Back In The Closet

Come Together

2011-11-05T21:45:00.003+08:00

Come. I've done it. Maybe you have. Maybe you've done it with me. Admit it, it feels damn good.

Come on.
Come alone.
Come with me.
Come one. Come all.
Come. Just come.

Or better yet...
Come together.

Hey, hey, hey... Before your dirty mind goes places, let me just stop myself as well. What the hell am I talking about?

Come Together is the latest HIV and AIDS campaign by MTV's Staying Alive Foundation.

So why should this particular HIV campaign pique your interest?

Well, just having names like fashion designer Kenneth Cole, music legend Cyndi Lauper, Glee's Cheyenne Jackson, songstresses Skylar Grey, Estelle and Ke$ha, and actresses Rose McGowan and Sarah Jessica Parker backing the campaign may just get your attention.

Fashion designer and Chairman of amfAR, Kenneth Cole, has partnered with MTV International’s Alive Foundation and amfAR on the reinterpretation of the iconic AIDS ribbon. Designed to commemorate the discovery of the virus 30 years ago, and to ignite a new wave of awareness about the pandemic with the next generation, the new AIDS ribbon, features a double loop, and symbolizes the coming together of individuals and the re-doubling of efforts in the fight against HIV and AIDS. Kewl.

You can buy the new double ribbon for $5.00 from the Kenneth Cole site, of which 100% of the profits will be donated to AWEARNESS, the Kenneth Cole Foundation in support of amfAR and the MTV Staying Alive Foundation.

But aside from buying and wearing the double red ribbon, you can also pledge your support by making a donation, watching and sharing the campaign videos, or just simply getting educated and spreading the word on HIV and AIDS.

For more information, visit www.mtvcometogether.com.

Disclosure... Sort Of

2011-10-26T08:30:00.000+08:00

Okay, so maybe I’m not new to disclosure. The back of my head was featured on TV for GMA’s Think Positive documentary about HIV some years ago. And I was part of DepEd’s Power of You sexual health awareness campaign, disclosing my HIV-positive status to an audience of students and faculty, both in Subic and Cebu.

For some, those are amazing steps to take. But for me, I could inch a wee bit further.

Really, those times I’ve delved into the business of disclosing my HIV status have almost never been any risk to me. I mean, almost all of these people, I had not known before, and they would only have known me after the fact. And also, there was little chance of seeing most of them ever again. Non-detrimental is the term I’d use.

So in summary, brave as some of you think it to be, there was to be little bearing on my everyday life. But, in the interest of being a guinea pig of the HIV experience, I’ve been taking it a bit further.

You know how when you get urine tests for illegal drugs, they would usually ask if you’re taking any medications? Well, the reason for that is the possibility of false positive results. Our doctors and nurses have always said that some of the ARVs could result in a positive result of a typical urine test for drugs.

So lately, I’ve been figuring, I may as well tell them before a drug test that I am indeed taking maintenance medications... just so it doesn’t sound like a defensive afterthought after a false positive result of a drug test.

The first time I applied this new mentality of mine was some months ago, when I went to have my driver’s license renewed. So, wary of my shy bladder, I arrived with my bladder already full to the brim. In afterthought, not a very good idea.

Hour after hour of filling out forms, waiting, waiting and more waiting, it was finally, finally, finally my turn to collect my urine sample. Sounds normal, right? But at some point of filling out the form, I filled in “Yes” to answer the question of whether I was currently taking any medications. And in the blank provided, I wrote “Lamivudine”.

Lamivudine is actually just one of my three ARVs. So, of course, like I taunted it out of him, the guy who checks my form asks what I’m taking it for. Okay, in all honesty, I didn’t exactly disclose that I’m HIV-positive. But rather, the next best thing... how about disclosing one of my co-infections? Good enough.

Hepatitis B. Yep, aside from HIV, I indeed have Hepatitis B. Not your typical Hepatitis that you get from dirty food, but rather, an STD as well. But fortunately, due to some odd circumstances, two of my three ARVs, Lamivudine and Tenofovir, are acting against both my HIV and Hepatitis B. Two birds with two pills. So I could really claim that I am taking them for my Hepatitis B.

So to cut this chapter short, I renewed my license without a hitch. No false positives. No problem with disclosing having an STD either. No... Big... Deal.

Cut to the next scene. I’m tempted to try my stunt again. Let’s move on to a different challenge... something more detrimental.

So the last time I had a medical exam for employment was back in 2004. Pre-HIV. This year would be my first after that little milestone.

So I got a dental exam, blood tests, x-ray, and once again, another urine test for illegal drugs. After all that, I go to the doctor for the physical exam. And she was plotting out my medical history. Previous operations? None. Hospitalizations? None. Family history? Well, diabetes, heart disease and cancer. And medications? Yes. Lamivudine.

Of course, she needed to ask what I was taking it for. Hepatitis B. When was I diagnosed? Did anyone in the family have Hepatitis B? Did I have any blood transfusions? 2008. Nope. Nope. So I’m sure in her head, the doctor now could deduce it was sexually-transmitted. And so it was over, she sent me off. I could expect the results at the office.

For all I care, it’s no big deal. I just have it. It’s not affecting my work. I still wasn’t sure what effect it would have on my job prospects. Then the following day, I got called into the company clinic. Oh boy. Here it goes.

So I was called in with a couple of others. One needed a follow-up urinalysis. The other, a re-x-ray. And then, my turn. I was told to shut the door to the clinic. What the? So I was asked by the company nurse about my Hepatitis B. How long I had it and what not. And I was just answering it matter-of-factly. Then she places a call to the doctor, asking about my case. Chit-chat chit-chat over the phone. She looks at me from head to toe, and looks into my eyes while still on the phone.

Hindi naman po siya naninilaw. Okay, salamat doc.

She puts the phone down.

Okay ka na. Fit to work ka na.

I knew it was right, but I honestly was still in a level of disbelief. Sigh of relief.

Yeah, yeah. I know that was just Hepatitis B. But really, if you think about it, disclosing HIV should be just as easy. Exactly like I just happened to have Hepatitis B, I just happened to have HIV. I am still fit to work. I am still fit to live. I am still fit. Period.

If you think about it, I didn’t have to say it. I didn’t have to disclose. I didn't have to take the risk. They wouldn’t have found out if I didn’t tell them. I have an STD. Hmmm, not the easiest thing to say. Let alone I have HIV. But why must it be that way? Why must HIV be the one skeleton I have in my closet that I have to keep hidden? Sadly, for now, there’s still a higher level of stigma that surrounds HIV. But times are a-changing... Someday... Someday.

How Do You Live Positively?

2011-10-14T07:00:00.001+08:00

Meditate.
Smile.
Laugh.
Love.

Living positively takes a myriad of forms, from the most profound to the simplest. How do you live positively?

Show us. If you have time on October 22 or 29, and have P 1,000 you're whole-heartedly willing to donate, come and join the Living Positively campaign of Yoga for Life... an awareness-raising and fund-raising campaign to help YFL reach more people affected by HIV.

Find more information on www.yogaforlife.ph, and join the legion of HIV advocates that is Yoga for Life.

Living Positively

2011-10-03T21:30:00.000+08:00

Inner peace is found from within.
Seek it not from without.

Do you live positively?

Show us how.
October 22 and 29, 2011

Whether it's as huge as making the world a better place, or as small as stopping to smell the roses, you too can live positively and live well in your own ways.

This is a project of Yoga for Life to raise funds to support the training of a new yoga instructor from within the community... so YFL can serve and reach more people... because everyone should live positively and live well. Help us. Join us.

Pulses

2011-09-14T19:15:00.000+08:00

Simply a thesis? Maybe. Maybe not.

Dulaang Laboratoryo presents Pulses, a play produced and performed by a group of theater majors from the University of the Philippines in Diliman. But more importantly, it is said to be a play inspired by people living with HIV.

Pulses is a play that weaves personal accounts, monologues, scenes, songs and poems. By creating a tapestry of whispers, cries and clamor, Pulses is a play that asks everyone to be aware - and to understand. It is a prayer for love, hope and acceptance.

The initial student run of Pulses is slated on the following dates:

~ September 22, Thu, 7pm
~ September 23, Fri, 7pm
~ September 24, Sat, 3pm and 7pm

at the Tanghalang Hermogenes Ylagan, Faculty Center, University of the Philippines, Diliman, Quezon City.

Written by Icarus & Iscariot
Directed by Pat Valera

Princess' Touch

2011-09-01T21:30:00.002+08:00

HIV does not make people dangerous to know...
So you can shake their hands...
And give them a hug...
Heaven knows they need it.

Princess Diana
July 01, 1961 - August 31, 1997

I found this quote on one of the advocacy blogs... And I'm glad I did. I actually never encountered it before. I never knew Princess Diana for such words.

I know it should be heartwarming... it probably is for most. But I had to read it a couple of times, trying to feel the "kilig". Alas, it did not come.

Sorry. I know it seems blasphemous of me to be saying this about something the late Princess Diana said. I mean, most of what she said is fine and perfect. I was just turned off by the last part... "Heaven knows they need it".

To me, it sounds like pity. And no, I don't need pity. I'm not a victim. Don't stigmatize against me. But don't patronize me.

No. Just because I have HIV, doesn't mean I need your hugs... at least not any more than any other human being would.

That's all I want. Don't treat me bad just because I have HIV. But don't treat me any special either. Treat me normal... because I am.

That being said, Diana is still an angel... I shall bow down before her in honor of her gift to the HIV cause... a Princess' touch.

K-Pop ICAAP

2011-08-25T11:45:00.000+08:00

We bid farewell yesterday to our Yogi Babe. She left us.

No, silly! Not for good!

She's flying off today for Korea to attend and represent Yoga for Life at this year's International Congress on AIDS in Asia and the Pacific, or ICAAP for short.

The 10th ICAAP will begin tomorrow, August 26, 2011, and will end on Tuesday, August 30, 2011, and will be held at the Busan Exhibition and Convention Center or BEXCO in Busan, South Korea.

ICAAP is the second largest HIV and AIDS forum in the world, and is held every other year. The ICAAP becomes the venue for the release and discussion of scientific, programmatic and policy developments in the global response to the issues of HIV and AIDS. The co-convenors of ICAAP are the AIDS Society of Asia and the Pacific and the UNAIDS.

The theme of the ICAAP10 is “Diverse Voices, United Action.” By sharing knowledge and experience at the ICAAP10, the organizers hope that participants shall be able to step forward further to combat the HIV and AIDS epidemic as one. ICAAP10 offers a platform where the region can be united in action.

The overall objectives of this year's Congress include:
• To accomplish the theme “Diverse Voices, United Action
• To empower and strengthen political, community and business leadership
• To offer a platform for voices from Asia and the Pacific to reassemble
• To exchange and share achievements, successes and best practices
• To ensure those affected are free from stigma and discrimination
• To promote equal access to prevention, support, treatment and care

Participants from different nations in the Asia-Pacific region were invited to share their efforts to the community through oral and poster presentations, and each project falls into 1 of six categories or "tracks".

Track A: The evolving epidemiology of HIV in Asia and the Pacific
Track B: Advances in basic and clinical sciences
Track C: Meeting the challenge of Universal Access
Track D: Building and supporting leaders and advocates
Track E: Engaging communities for effective responses
Track F: Overcoming human rights, legal and policy barriers

I took a look at the roster of presentations, and saw that the Philippines is well represented in both oral and poster presentations. Some of the presentors I knew as fellow Yoga for Lifers, though they would be there representing different organizations. And some I recognized as fellow advocates from other NGOs. Some just caught my attention because their studies included the Philippines. And one, well, their names just sounded Pinoy... I just had to guess.

So here's the Pinoy contingent at the ICAAP:

Oral Presentations

Number 208, Track E
29 August, Monday, 10:50-12:00
"Who Will Take a Bakla Seriously?": HIV Risk of Filipino MSM and Transgender Persons as a Function of Gender and Sexuality Values
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Mikael Navarro

Number 212, Track E
29 August, Monday, 10:50-12:00
HIV Rapid Antibody Testing Among MSMs at Easter Weekend 2011 Festivities in Puerto Galera, Philippines
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Bric Bernard Bernas

Number 238, Track E
29 August, Monday, 10:50-12:00
I am POSI+IVE Campaign: Bringing the Voices of Young Key Populations to the Filipino Youth Communities
Corresponding Author: Igor Mocorro; Presenting Author: Vermont Arvesu

Number 253,Track E
29 August, Monday, 13:30-14:40
Motivations to Engage in Intentional Condomless Anal Intercourse (Bareback Sex) in HIV Risks Awareness Among Men Who Have Sex with Men in Davao City
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Elizabeth Malonzo

Poster Presentations

Number 288, Track A
27 August, Saturday
Risky Behaviours Among Young Urban Professionals in the Philippines
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Richard Howard

Number 595, Track C
27 August, Saturday
Utilizing Internet and SMS Technologies to Provide Care and Support to Young MSM living with HIV: Experience from the Philippines
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Igor Mocorro

Number 845, Track D
27 August, Saturday
Churches as Channels of Hope for PLWHAs: World Vision’s Experience in Engaging Faith Communities
Corresponding Author: Alain Dizon; Presenting Author: Mary Grace Pasion

Number 1003, Track E
27 August, Saturday
Factors Affecting Success in Promoting AIDS Competence in Cambodia, Thailand, and the Philippines
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Dusit Duangsa

Number 1253, Track F
27 August, Saturday
Seeking Redress for HIV-Related Violations of Human Rights
Corresponding Author: Manuel Guzman; Presenting Author: Ranier Ritchie Naldoza

Number 1264, Track F
27 August, Saturday
Barriers in Access to Justice and Legal Redress among People Living with HIV in the Philippines
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Jeffry Acaba

Number 653, Track C
28 August, Sunday
AIDS Stigma: Attitudes of Filipino Nursing Students about HIV and AIDS
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Igor Mocorro

Number 1145, Track E
28 August, Sunday
Impact of Anti-Prostitution Laws on HIV Prevention among Sex Workers in Quezon City, Philippines
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Jeffry Acaba

Number 932, Track D
29 August, Monday
I.Lead@GFATM Philippines: Empowering Young Filipinos Towards Meaningful Youth Involvement in the Global Fund
Corresponding & Presenting Author: Igor Mocorro

And last, but definitely not least...

Number 1199, Track E
29 August, Monday
Yoga for Life: Promoting Health and Healthy Behavior among People Affected by HIV and AIDS
Corresponding Author: Amanda Maud Jones; Presenting Author: Charmaine Cu-Unjieng

Yey! I'm honored to be part of the team who put together the Yoga for Life poster, so I will be in Korea in spirit... or more! Wink, wink!

So if you're in Busan this coming weekend, check out Yoga for Life and the rest of the ICAAP... and bring me home some Kimchi or K-Pop! Annyeong Haseyo!

For more about the ICAAP, visit www.ICAAP10.org

No Of-Fence

2011-08-23T09:15:00.001+08:00

This was on TV in the morning news today. HIV once again is the star. Oddly enough, this was not a health segment or anything close to that. It was really just meant to be bizarre news.

So HIV makes for bizarre news these days?

Well, see for yourself...

Click here if you can't see the video.

Okay, don't nosebleed on me. Luckily, I speak Spanish... no I'm kidding. I did research.

So basically, a doctor in Brazil was getting tired of being burglarized while at work. The solution? She took HIV-infected syringes home with her and built a "wall of HIV" to stop people jumping her fence.

Of course, seeing syringes might not have been enough. So she put a warning sign on her fence that reads, "Wall with HIV-positive blood. Don't climb it."

Hmmmmm. Wherever this woman lives, burglars must be pretty educated to know exactly what HIV is. Oh, but then this begs the question whether they are educated enough to read and understand the sign in the first place.

But kudos to this doctor for taking advantage of the myths of HIV that have actually been haunting the Philippines for years now. Remember, around a decade ago maybe, rumors that instilled fear in Pinoy moviegoers of being suddenly pricked by HIV-infected needles in theater seats? Oh... reminiscing.

But really, her method probably won't scare away those who already are HIV-positive, those who know that her contaminants will probably not be fresh enough after being exposed to air and sunlight for days and days, those who take a cutter to the tape that's holding her syringes, and those who can see that there are gaps in the fence that are clear of her prickly things. Darn, doctors ain't all that smart, huh?

In the end, the Homeowners' Association called the police, who said they couldn't do anything about it. So the Homeowners' Association gave her 5 days to take down her HIV-tainted needles or get fined.

So yeah, HIV is in the news once again, hilariously bizarre as this story may be. But to all of us living with HIV, no of-FENCE.

Simply Complicated: Workout

2011-08-01T17:30:00.001+08:00

Were we officially a couple? Are we officially a couple?

Okay, okay, hold your horses.

I hope to successfully zoom through what’s left of my little flashback that’s taken up more than a handful and a month’s worth of entries, and answer that question by the end of this post.

So... let’s continue.

When June 1st came, I don’t remember exactly why, but I didn’t report for work that day. If I’m not mistaken, I just wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t be late for Yoga for Life’s anniversary that evening. Yep, I think that was it.

When I told the boi of my free day, his reply was an invitation for me to join him at the gym. I froze. I was a gym virgin, having never worked out before, at any gym. Mostly it was because I was intimidated of the place and the people . Seriously. Paranoid, I know. I mean, yeah, I’m pretty sporty and all, but gym… all the horror stories and visions of predators lurking in the locker room ready to pounce on any fresh meat that passes... been dreading it, been dreading it.

Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do it, for decades now, but dreading it. And here was someone offering to hold my hand through the experience. We’d actually talked about this before, under the context of sharing. He would teach me what he knew about working out and swimming, and I would teach him what I knew about Photoshop and organizing a space. Fair trade.

So I faced my fear, and agreed to the gym date. So we met and went to his gym. I was almost clueless. And here he already had printed out a workout regimen for me. Nice. So I was devirginized, gym-wise, that is. And I also saw and appreciated what passion he had for working out. He proved he wasn’t there to hang out at the showers and flirt around with guys. These were the perks of going to a bakal gym instead of all the commercialized gyms. Perfect for me. Very, very nice.

It was actually an eye-opener, that little invitation. This was turning out to be our first taste of commitment. From gym to commitment? What the hell am I talking about?

Let’s face it, here he was, inviting me into his territory, the gym he goes to, where I would see him half-clothed, sweaty, grunting, making faces, and down to his bare elements. And, I was to be enrolling for a month at a time. So it was a month’s contract not just between me and the gym, but between me and him too. I wonder if he realized that.

After a good couple of hours at the gym, we freshened up and headed for yoga together. We passed by a Yellow Cab to schedule for a couple of pizzas to be delivered at the end of the session that evening. We made it to yoga, went through the class, and Savasana’ed into the anniversary celebration of Yoga for Life, a banquet of food to reward everyone for their practice that evening. We then headed home, still together. And by the end of that day, it was clear that we would be sharing more time together.

So I’ve known him since February. Buddy-buddy since March. Love since May. Gym buddies since June. And been practically together since… sweating through gym and yoga; chatting online when time permits, talking on the phone when load doesn’t; a lot of lunch and dinner dates just anywhere, and a couple of out of town trips with yoga friends; making it through a sick period on his end (though all I could really do to ease his discomfort was bring his favorite cake and buko shake), currently going through a career hitch on mine; and even things as simple as shopping for vegetables at the local wet market, and raiding an ukay-ukay a couple of times.

Throughout our kinda-sorta-relationship, I’ve made sure there would be no pressure. No pressure for us to be together every minute of everyday. No pressure to be at yoga or wherever together all the time. No pressure to stop either of us from going out with other friends. No pressure to text every single chance there was.

But surprisingly, despite not being together all the time, not texting every chance we got, nor talking every single day, I can confidently say that we are pretty secure… even despite the technical non-relationship.

So again, the situation begs the question, are we a couple? At this point, if you were to ask me if we were a couple, I’d say officially, we’re not.

I know, I know. Why not? Why not? What am I waiting for? I’m really not in a rush to define us with a couple label. Why, because it’s just that… a label. It doesn’t define what we do have. And that’s something even I can’t put into words.

What about the early bird catching the worm? Was the worm meant to be his soul mate, or might another bird be the reward for his patience?

Someone mentioned about good guys finishing last. First, I’m flattered to be considered a “good guy”. Other than that, it’s not a race. I don’t mind finishing last, because the last means no one comes after. Yep, the last guy gets forever.

I don’t want to be pushed towards proposing prematurely just because someone else might get to him before me. Even if someone did, I know, I know, I know he’d be happier with me. Wooooow... confidence, no? Hahaha.

So there, no proposals, no courtship, no I-dos. Rest assured, we’re working it out, albeit slowly but surely. Hmmm, if you think about it, we’ve gone pretty far in the mere five months we’ve known each other... that ain’t too slow. So officially, we are NOT a couple. But there’s love. I know it. He knows it. And even if we haven’t declared ourselves a couple, it sure feels like we are. And damn, it feels good. It feels right. And that’s what’s important, right?

It seems complicated, but it's really been simple... thus, Simply Complicated.

Simply Complicated: Surprises

2011-07-27T23:45:00.002+08:00

Am I ready to deal with all the competition?

Again, the too-cute category instantly invokes a fight or flee mode. And honestly, I would usually flee. I’m not a competitor. I was never raised to be. Inferiority complex, that’s me. But this time was different. I found myself with an unusual conviction. Go ahead... someday you’ll see we belong together. Wow. My confidence amazed even myself.

So I was sticking around for that “someday”.

And in sticking around, we were spending more and more time together.

Having met there, definitely, yoga was a staple. As he became a regular, so did we become... uhm... regular. On Wednesdays, we’d see each other there, him from school, me from work, and head home together. And on Saturdays, we’d meet around our place and go together, and after head home together.

But in all that, I made sure we weren’t a package deal. We should go for the benefits of yoga, remember? So on more than a handful of times, either he’d be there and I’d be stuck at work, or I’d be there and he’d be busy with school. No big deal. And even when we’re both there, we’d usually be in different parts of the room, only catching up when it was time to leave.

And aside from yoga, at times, I’d take leaves from work, to give myself a break and to accompany him on errands. I dunno, I felt like I needed – no, not “needed” – I wanted to take of him. But even if I wasn’t completely helpful on his errands, he appreciated me being there, and we both always had fun spending whole days together. A very good sign.

When our birthdays came, mine a day ahead, I wanted to spend it with him. Dinner would do. It was a Friday, so I suggested we meet at the mall. I’d be coming from work, and him, school. As I got there, he was on his way. Next text, he said he was there, but with a classmate he needed to shake off. It turned out to be a harder shake that expected.

I ended up waiting a couple of hours, and found myself alone, no dinner, no date, no nothing. I admit, I was a bit disappointed. It was my birthday! I had dodged other invites so I could be with him! Geesh! Instead I was home, lying in bed with my dog, munching on some cookies for dinner. Very spinster.

Ah well, no grudges. No big deal. By the next day, we were together on the MRT, on the way to yoga kissing and holding hands. No blaming, no apologies… he told me about his night out with his friends, and I was happy he had fun. Sincerely. So at yoga, we got offered a lot of sun salutations that day, a number equal to the average of our ages, actually. And after, we were able to have our birthday dinner finally, with Yogi Bear and BFF.

He fell asleep with his head on my shoulder on the long bus ride home from Makati. We took a cab from the bus stop, and I dropped him off at his place. But before he alighted, I reached into my bag to pull out a gift I got for him. Surprise! He thanked me intensely, as we greeted each other happy birthdays, and he gave me a kiss. I hoped he’d like the gift.

It was tough thinking of what to give him. But this was something I knew he needed. So I got it, and made sure he’d see a message as he opened it. I fell in love with you. Happy Birthday. The L word. I used the L word. It may have been the first time I used the L word towards him, but I had been feeling it for quite a while already.

Cheesy, I know. But it was the truth. I wasn’t saying it so he’d love me back. I was saying it because it was matter-of-fact. No more, no less.

I was thinking, even if he didn’t like the gift, I hope he appreciated the feelings that I sent with it. Napaiyak mo ako sa saya! Maraming salamat! Mwah mwah mwah! With that, I believe he was happy. And so I was happy too.

We saw each other again the following Wednesday at yoga. I ended up carrying a package of his through a dinner meeting and on the trip home. As I handed it to him as we were about to separate, he throws me the most beautiful smile and says Surprise! What the?! Apparently, what I thought the whole time was his school project was his gift for me! Grrr, I hate surprises, remember? Hehe.

As I got home, I opened up the gift, and it was something I could definitely use, and even better, something that would surely remind me of him. I spied a little card at the bottom of the package. Thank you for being there when I needed you. =) Love you too! Happy Birthday! The L word? From him?! And, hard as it is to admit, I broke down. Argh, I still get teary-eyed every time I read it till now.

So was this it? Were we officially a couple?

Simply Complicated: Competition

2011-07-24T18:00:00.002+08:00

Should I die now? Of course not. OA lang ako.

So yeah, people were noticing the chemistry between us. They were seeing a lot of us as a package, arriving and leaving yoga a lot together. Sometimes, during dinners and get-togethers with friends, he would be my plus-one. And on more than a handful of times, I’ve been asked whether we’re a couple. I have to be honest of course and say that technically, we’re not.

But the path we were treading was far from perfect, or ideal for that matter.

On one occasion, after a yoga session just on heels of our being introduced, some were going for dinner, and some were going home. I thought we were heading home together. But he got cornered by someone else... actually the same guy who was molesting him at the dinner some nights back. Before I knew it, they were walking together to the dinner place. And seeing he didn’t even look back to see if I was coming or where I was, I bade goodbye to the others and headed on home.

On the bus, I got a text from the boi. Sabay ka ba maya? Darn, so he looked for me? Should I head back? Geesh. So I replied that I was already on my way home. We sent each other Ingats. So everything was fine, right? Sort of. I found out after that the guy he was with took him home. Whose home? Well, the guy’s status message after which read, Perfect na sana, lakas lang humilik, should tell you what happened.

In all actuality, this guy was pretty persistent. The next yoga session, despite the fact that I had arrived with the boi, the guy again marked his territory. As in I was seated in front of the boi while we were joking around, and the guy actually squeezed himself in between us and immediately put a hand on his leg. Ohhhhh, okay. I backed off.

After yoga, the guy tried to whisk him away, offering him a ride home. Assuming “home” was really home, I should hitch too, so I did. Very third wheel of me, I know, I know.

With the boi in the passenger seat and me at the back, I was witness to a courtship ritual. Actually, from the turn of the key, the stereo flipped on with Cee Lo’s “Fuck You” at the top of the playlist. Wow, all planned out? Double entendre quips. Caresses here and there. And attempts at convincing the boi not to head home yet. Ahm, excuse me, am I not in the car? But at the end of the trip, I had managed to keep my food down, and found myself on the MRT... with the boi... having been dropped off at a station.

This guy was not the only one.

It wasn’t alien for people to be talking with him while caressing his strong arms and bulging chest. Don’t get me wrong, he would never shoo people away, enjoying the attention. But on my end, I’d be rolling my eyes into the back of my head thinking, excuse me, he’s a human being, not a piece of meat.

Sometimes, at yoga, guys would call him over to take the place next to them. In all fairness though, I appreciate how, when that happens, he looks back at me with a face that says What do we do now? I just nod at him to give him the go ahead. We’ll be back together after yoga anyway.

And then the boi has a circle of friends he would hang out with. Out-of-town trips and parties. He tells me about plans, an FYI short of asking permission. Trips and parties, nothing bad about that. Supposedly. But hanky and panky were there hanging out with them. He told me himself when I asked him if he was going to be good at these things. He couldn’t say yes outright. He said I shouldn’t expect, for I’d just be courting disappointment. Rather, I could hope. I appreciated the honesty.

But I think my bigger concern with this group of his would be vices. Fine, I can drink a lot too. Drugs, only time I’ve done it was one session smoking a joint of marijuana. First and last time. But the boi wasn’t averse to these things at all… claiming he knows his limits. But then there’s a reason why the ABCDE of HIV prevention has D as Don’t Use Drugs or Alcohol... because it clouds your judgment.

That being said, mix alcohol, drugs and hanky panky, and you’re flirting with trouble. Yes, even if I’m NOT a trained HIV counselor, I know that. I’ve made sure I’ve done my part reminding the boi of that fact, and repeating time and time again that he stay safe. I just hope this circle of friends of his be real friends - be better influences and keep him safe too.

So a lot of people were interested in him. As in, a lot. And since I was hardly trying to fence him off, it wasn’t unusual for the boi to turn into a free for all.

Nope, all these things were still not a big deal. We weren’t a couple anyway. Special friends, maybe. But not a couple. Yet. So as long as he was safe, I was fine. So it was probably the drugs part that brought me the most concern.

But otherwise, certainly, the too-cute thing was certainly turning into something to deal with. Like I mentioned before, the very first time we were introduced, I instantly put him into my too cute category. Too cute meant too out of my league. Too cute meant too much competition. And the world itself seemed to not even try to debunk my theory.

So should I fight, or should I flee? Am I ready to deal with all the competition?

Simply Complicated: Revelations

2011-07-20T23:45:00.002+08:00

Did the relationship end before it even started?

Saturday was yoga day. Sadly, the boi was a Wednesday yogi. I man the Yoga for Life attendance files, contact numbers included. I was tempted to take advantage. So even after my rePUTAtion being broken, I swallowed my pride and texted the boi inviting him to Saturday yoga. I even offered that we go together. Time tick-tocked away as I waited anxiously for a reply.

All he said was that he’d try. As Saturday morning rolled by, I followed up if we were going together. We could meet at the MRT. No reply.

So I went on my usual itinerary, taking a bus to Makati. Lo and behold, the boi suddenly texted asking where I was, saying he was running late just approaching the MRT. Yikes, but I was already on my way. But of course, I hopped off the bus.

I headed for the nearest MRT station. Ideally, I would ride the MRT back to his station, and enjoy the entire ride with him. But, I stopped myself. I had other plans. Let’s not be totally easy-to-get. I suggested we meet at the destination station, Ayala. Wooooow. Hard-to-get. LOL.

So I got there ahead, and exited the turnstiles and waited patiently. I think it was a good 20 minutes. He got there and looked around for me as I was walking towards him. Fine, I admit, I was a bit thrilled to see him, and more to be with him.

Focus. Focus. This is not a date. This is just a walk... to yoga. This is yoga time.

After yoga, our Yogi Bear insisted we hang out with him before his next yoga class. So we had a snack together at a mall food court. Nothing fancy. I believe I had siomai and a drink.

With much time to spare, the tambay time quickly turned into getting-to-know time. Everything from personal, school and family, to HIV, safe sex and fetishes... oi, this wasn’t an interrogation. This was one huge round table with everyone sharing.

So I got to know a lot about the boi. One thing that struck me was that he was no angel. He’s been around. Yes, sexually. My rePUTAtion heaved a little sigh of relief. Very, very interesting.

One other thing that struck me, was that our birthdays were both coming up... just a day apart from each other. Fate... almost. So we shared the same zodiac sign. Big deal? What if we shared the same animal sign, too? It was creepy.

Were we the same age? Unfortunately not. Which, based on the cycle of the Chinese zodiac, meant we had an age gap in a multiple of 12 years. Age GAP. It’s a wonder that I’m attracted to him. I used to really prefer guys older than I was. But in hindsight, I was attracted to the maturity, which, as I learned the hard way, does NOT come with age. So it was not a wonder after all that his age didn’t matter.

Soon, Yogi Bear needed to leave for his class, and I was left with the boi, still basking in all the revelations. We headed for the MRT together. I put my arm around him as we walked. No resistance. Nice.

Getting to the landing, he said he was staying behind. He was going to a friend’s place in the area. His smirk told me it was a date. Hehehe. No problemo. I said I’d go ahead.

So before we headed off our separate ways, he looks at me with these puppy dog eyes, leans in and pouts his lips. I got it. And I obliged. I leaned in and gave him a smack on the lips. Yes. In public. I smiled. He smiled.

Don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t necessarily a big deal, the kissing in public thing. I kiss BFF in public. I kiss Yogi Bear in public. I kiss my favorite doctor-slash-advocate in public. And so many others. It’s just something we’re not shy about, being the liberated gay bunch. No... big... deal.

Okay, fine. I had a smile on my face the whole way home. I was happy, not just with the kiss. You know how you’re attracted physically to some people, but once you start getting to know them deeper, it changes things make-or-break? With getting to know him, I liked him just the same, if not more.

With that, I texted him reminding him to stay safe on his date... in all senses of the word. He knew what I meant. And I couldn’t stop myself.

Stay safe... Like kita. :-) Send.

Beep beep. Haha stay safe too. Like din kta! Lambot ng labi mo. :)

Should I die now?

Simply Complicated: Reputation

2011-07-16T08:00:00.002+08:00

Were things going to get… complicated?

So the next time I saw him was the following Wednesday. Yoga for Life day again. No biggie, nothing unusual, I was just yogaing away. After the class, in one way or another, we found ourselves planning to head home together. I can already hear you saying HMMMMM.

But no, this was still no big deal. No hangover from the hand-squeezing that happened. None at all. It was all just common sense. We lived within 15 minutes of each other, so it was just logical for us to head home together.

Incidentally that evening, our Yogi Bear, BFF, and other Yoga for Lifers planned to have dinner somewhere in our part of the metro. So logical again, we hitched a ride and joined them for dinner at a local ChicBoy.

Seats were taken around a long table. The seating arrangement? Nope, we weren’t dinnering as a pair. Hell, we weren’t even sitting beside each other. I didn’t even try to elbow my way there. I’m not that type. Truth be told, someone else’s hand was all over his thigh... almost the whole way through dinner. Ohhhhhkay. I’m not reacting. No reason for me to react. I’m an observer. So I observed. And I observed that someone was aggressively interested in him. Geez, the guy didn’t spend much effort trying to hide it either. Deadma. Good job to him, I thought.

The next thing I know, the topic of the conversation went my direction. As is, I’m not comfortable having the spotlight on me. To make it worse, I was being outed as the slut that I potentially could be. Okay fine, true as it all was, it’s not exactly something that I would like a new acquaintance to know. Let alone a new acquaintance that seemed... uhm... interesting.

Geesh. Thanks ha. Ang linis nyo lang teh eh no? And these were supposed to be my friends?! The friends-make-laglag-friends principle is one I don’t really subscribe to, sorry. I don’t know what face I was making, but I guess I kept my evil eyes at bay because the person who started it was and is still alive. I’m pretty sure though that my eyes rolled into the back of my head a number of times. And I was fake laughing. Tact, anyone?

It was embarrassing. Frustrating. Irritating at the most. But fine, que sera sera. And indeed, sira went my reputation. I reminded myself that I spelled my reputation with a capital P-U-T-A. Ah well. There goes the norm of making a good first impression. Instead of having my best foot forward, my filthy ass led the way. Nak nam puta.

So with that, the little hope or dream or whatever spark I had for the guy fizzled out. I was thankfully first to get dropped off, as I could not have turned invisible soon enough.

And with that, the relationship ended before it even started... or did it?

Simply Complicated: Squeeze

2011-07-09T08:00:00.002+08:00

I apoligize for being so quiet. Too quiet. I've been busy. With work. And with family. Okay, fine... and with my personal life. It's been a case of I-want-to-tell-you-all-about-it-but-I-don't-want-to-jinx-it. But right now, I'm afraid that I've been saving too many details in the memory card in my brain... so I decided I'd tell my story. Or start to. So allow me to backtrack... to when it all began.

It was February, (hahaha, what?! i told you i would backtrack didn't i?!) and Yoga for Life was celebrating the love month with a series of partner yoga sessions. Basically, you do yoga in pairs. You get into more intense stretches and positions with the help of your partner, and vice versa. And you get the challenge of going into a deeper state of focus, having to interact with someone in your personal space. Sound interesting? It is.

So basicaly, as much as I wanted to have my actual partner-hubby at the time there, he just wouldn't have it. No way in hell. Fine. I will go alone... and be a broken record explaining why I didn't have my boyfriend with me. Screw you all.

So it was a packed class on my first partner yoga session. And I looked around the room wondering who I was going to get paired up with. I had a few that I was eyeing. Crushables, you might say. Mostly shorter guys. Yeah, I tend to be attracted to short guys, because they tend to be more chunky... CHUNKY in my bitch-tionary is short for chubby-slash-hunky. Basically, I’m tall and lean, I’m borderline-twink, so I prefer guys who are more built that I am, albeit a little extra or more to love. And shorter usually means the weight is packed into a smaller frame... ergo, chunky. Mmm.

But then of course, partner yoga pairs you up with someone closer to your height. Lucky me, I got paired with the young, tall, lanky, straight guy. He wasn’t bad looking at all, don‘t get me wrong. A number of others were eyeing him... but he wasn‘t rowing my boat. Oh well. I was there for the yoga anyways, so I got down to business.

At the end of the class, we were okay. We worked hard, I could say. It probably helped that there was no sexual tension going in either direction. We were all about the yoga. And then of course, I got approached by some saying how lucky I was to have him for a partner, and how envious they were of me. And I was like, yeah, whatever.

So after class, I got introduced to some of the other guys, including one of those I way eyeing. Acquainted, and that was that. I looked him over and thought... mmm, chunky, more hunky at that... but cute. Too cute. Yes, some guys fall into my category of too cute... and I fall into out-of-my-league mode. As in this guy is too cute to be interested in someone like me. So on that note, I drop it. Done. Acquainted, and that was that.

As fate will have it, we both live up north of the metro, so we headed in that direction together with our yogi bear. The MRT was packed. No poise whatsoever, not that I needed it. Yogi bear got down first, leaving the two of us. He was getting down next, a station before mine. Dito na ako, he said. Okay, I replied, Ingat ha.

Simple, right? Yes. But only until his hand slid down the handrail to where mine was, managing to squeeze the fleshy part at the base of my palm, before he stepped out of the train. What the hell was that?! I stared at my palm, and my brain went haywire. Was I imagining things?! I admit, I was giddy, but didn’t want to assume anything. I was left speechless. And confused. It couldn’t be. No.

And with that, were things going to get... complicated?

K Brosas for TTT

2011-06-28T09:45:00.000+08:00

K Brosas on real beauty... for Take the Test.

Graduation Day

2011-06-21T12:30:00.000+08:00

It’s Tuesday, the start of another workweek. It was a holiday yesterday. So after a long, cold, rainy weekend, it was going to be tough to get into work mode.

But today, I decided last minute… as in after taking a shower and dressing up… to make a detour onto the path of my past.

Blame my current workplace, they suddenly decided to get some pre-employment requirements from everyone, even those who’d been with the company for years on end. I’m one of the newbies, so I had most of mine. Except one. My diploma.

I never got my diploma. No toga. No ceremony. No nothing. Don’t get me wrong, I finished my degree. Albeit taking three extra years. Well, I blame Happy-150th-Birthday-Jose-Protacio-Rizal-Mercado-y-Alonso-Realonda himself because I failed his subject so many times. And I blame ROTC, whose irrelevance to life was just not giving me enough sense to finish. So three years after I should’ve, I finally passed Rizal, and ROTC got reduced to two semesters, and I finally graduated. Whoopee!

And I think that was a factor. I was a bit ashamed to suddenly show up at my college three years late, claiming my diploma. Not exactly something to be proud of. So I just got my Transcript from the Registrar’s Office, which was all that I needed thus far, for work and whatnot. Until now.

So today, I took the turn to a different yet familiar destination. I soon realized that familiarity was not only about location… it’s also about time. And here, I’m not talking about days, not months, not just a couple of years. I’m talking 7 years after settling my clearance, and 9 years since my last enrollment. So things had changed.

Just getting there, I no longer knew. Where exactly is the jeepney terminal? Which line is it? Did the route change? Where can I get off? Where are the jeepney stops? Thankfully, I got there without having to ask, or even look stupid.

First stop the Registrar’s Office. It was in a new building that wasn’t there yet when I was still in school. So I had to find it. I was led by the guard to the Records Section. I waited. Soon, the window opened, and I asked if I could get my diploma there. Asked when I graduated, whether I’d been cleared, and what documents I had, I was told I should claim it at my College. Fine. I am not a coward. I am not a coward. Brrrrr.

I guess my biggest fear has been seeing someone I know who would ask me what I’ve been up to. Hmm, nope, I’m not anyone’s boss. Nope, I don’t work for a big multinational company. Nope, I’m not even practicing my degree anymore. Yes, I’m still rank and file. And yes, my biggest achievement might just be that I’m now HIV positive. Not exactly the most ideal spiel.

The stroll across the picturesque campus to my old College building may have helped calm me down. Climbing the front steps, the guard at the gate asked for an ID. Okay, security has changed as well. I asked what time the office of the college head opens, instead he pointed me to another room. Apparently, even that had transferred.

The office was still closed, and a bunch of students were outside. I tried not to let the generation gap stick out. Allow me to say I think I can still pass for a college student. Time ticked away, the students left for class, and still it was closed. Hmm. Good thing I walked towards the old Admin Office, relieved to see that it was still where it used to be.

I walked in and saw familiar faces, still the ladies who always used to be there. I’m pretty sure though they didn’t recognize me. So I asked if I could claim my diploma there. Bingo. She took my transcript and asked what year I graduated. I told her the year I last enrolled.

She approached a cabinet and pulled out a diploma jacket and a binder, and started leafing through the pages. Back and forth, back and forth. She asked me what year again, and if I was sure. Honestly, I wasn’t. She even asked for an ID to prove I was the same person. Fine. Still nothing. I was beginning to sweat. Did I not graduate after all?

Finally she was approached by one of her colleagues, asking what the problem was. She took my ID and searched the computer database. Okay, my year was right. And in a few minutes, they found it. I was hearing the graduation march in my head. I was in disbelief. Not much hassle. A single trip. A couple of hours. No payments made. That’s it. It’s done.

I walked to where I could have it photocopied. And honestly, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face the whole time. It was a gutsy day. A gutsy move. And I’m officially a diploma-holder. Should I frame it? Should I give it to my mom? Oi, I was giggling.

I was actually so proud at the time that I wanted to treat myself with a day off from work. Watch a movie maybe. Go home and sleep. Workout. But my pride was prize enough. So I shook it off, and just hopped on a bus to work, which is where I am now.

Obviously, I’m still caught up in the excitement because I’ve managed to blog instead of work. But hey, gimme a break. This is the closest I’ve gotten to my graduation day.

Alicia Mayer for TTT

2011-06-18T06:20:00.000+08:00

Alicia Mayer on real beauty... for Take the Test.

Geneva Cruz for TTT

2011-06-15T17:30:00.003+08:00

Geneva Cruz on real beauty... for Take the Test.

Sweet Break

2011-06-07T21:30:00.007+08:00

May pasalubong ako sa iyo! Baket ka nagagalit sa akin? Nagpapakasweet na nga lang ako eh!

Him dropping the call was the most welcome thing for me. That was it. We didn’t talk nor text for the next two weeks.

Yep, I’m talking about the hubby. Do I seem harsh? Snapping at someone just because of a pasalubong? I think so too a bit, but here’s my story.

So he goes out of town, and asks me what pasalubong I’d like. He always brings me pasalubongs. Too much in fact, that when one pasalubong comes, I would still have pasalubongs from previous trips still at home. Perishables every time at that. So I declined this time.

You don’t need to get me anything.

But I want to.

No, no need, there’s already too much food at home, but thank you.

So he goes on his trip and comes back. May pasalubong ako sa iyo! And I’m pissed.

Why? I’m a quiet guy. An introvert. I would usually rather keep things to myself. So those few times I speak up, I would appreciate if you'd listen.

And I repeated myself.
No need, thank you.

But I want to.

Fine, bahala ka.

Baket ka nagagalit sa akin?
Nagpapakasweet na nga lang ako eh!
Sige na nga, matulog ka na!

Call dropped.

I felt offended. Not by the dropped call. But by the insinuation that material things equal sweetness. No. I’m not that kind of a guy, sorry.

Sweet is listening to what little I have to say.

Sweet is calling not just to say you love me... ask how my day went!

Sweet is not stopping me from putting my arm around you in public.

Sweet is not just saying you want to hug me whenever we meet. Do it.

Sweet is accepting my invitations to share my yoga time with me.

Sweet is not a “Masaya ka na?” after meeting my BFF the first time.

There, that’s why I snapped. Sweet?! These were things I had been letting pass. I was patiently letting him have his way. And this, this seemed like the last straw.

I’m sorry. I’m the farthest thing from a closet case. Fine, I’ve declared I’m Back In The Closet with this HIV thing, but even with that, I haven’t let the closet doors stop me from living. Not at this point where I’ve gotten a wake up call to treasure life more, and be thankful for every moment I get to live, laugh and love.

I was soon asking myself, why was I so bitchy? Why was I nitpicking? Why did I snap at him? It was becoming clear what the underlying issue was... I was falling out of love.

Some of you will think that I’m letting go of a perfectly good thing, knowing that an HIV-negative guy accepted me for who I am and what I had. But that’s not the end all and be all of it all.

He will not be the last person who will accept me despite my HIV-positive status. Call me much hopeful, but I guarantee that. Like I always say, if you don’t like me just because I’m HIV-positive, then you’re not worth my time anyways.

So there. Pending one final conversation... closure to be exact... this BITCH is officially single.

So, sweet ba kamo? Break.

"Functionally Cured" of HIV

2011-06-06T08:30:00.000+08:00

Since HIV was discovered 30 years ago this week, 30 million people have died from the disease, and it continues to spread at the rate of 7,000 people per day globally, the UN says.

There's not much good news when it comes to this devastating virus. But that is perhaps why the story of the man scientists call the "Berlin patient" is so remarkable and has generated so much excitement among the HIV advocacy community.

Timothy Ray Brown suffered from both leukemia and HIV when he received a bone marrow stem cell transplant in Berlin, Germany in 2007. The transplant came from a man who was immune to HIV, which scientists say about 1 percent of Caucasians are. (According to San Francisco's CBS affiliate, the trait may be passed down from ancestors who became immune to the plague centuries ago. This Wired story says it was more likely passed down from people who became immune to a smallpox-like disease.)

What happened next has stunned the dozens of scientists who are closely monitoring Brown: His HIV went away.

"He has no replicating virus and he isn't taking any medication. And he will now probably never have any problems with HIV," his doctor Gero Huetter told Reuters. Brown now lives in the Bay Area, and suffers from some mild neurological difficulties after the operation. "It makes me very happy," he says of the incredible cure.

The development of anti-retroviral drugs in the 1990s was the first sign of hope in the epidemic, transforming the disease from a sudden killer to a more manageable illness that could be lived with for decades. But still, the miraculous cocktail of drugs is expensive, costing $13 billion a year in developing countries alone, according to Reuters. That figure is expected to triple in 20 years--raising the worry that more sick people will not be able to afford treatment.

Although Brown's story is remarkable, scientists were quick to point out that bone marrow transplants can be fatal, and there's no way Brown's treatment could be applied to the 33.3 million people around the world living with HIV. The discovery does encourage "cure research," according to Dr. Jay Levy, who co-discovered HIV thirty years ago, something that many people did not even think was possible years ago.

You can watch Brown talk about his cure in this CBS video report.

Source:
Yahoo!

YFL Hits the Inquirer

2011-05-29T14:28:00.005+08:00

MAROON 5 VOCALIST Adam Levine recently revealed his obsession over yoga, how it helped solve his flexibility issues and how it sculpted his body. For a group here in Manila, yoga means more than just a workout. To them it is a community whose common advocacy focuses on helping people with HIV.

Read on as Yoga for Life is featured by Emman Cena in the Philippine Daily Inquirer article "Yoga for people living with HIV". :-)

Founded by yoga instructors Charmaine Cu-Unjieng and Paulo Leonido who once dreamt of bringing yoga particularly to the HIV community, Yoga for Life became the buzzword in June last year. With the help of ECHOyoga, Positivism and core volunteers, Charmaine and Paulo were able to start yoga classes initially with 14 students.

“The first months were like walking on thin ice as we needed to get people to open up to either experiencing yoga and facing the issue of HIV,” the founders recalled. After almost a year, the Yoga for Life community has grown to over 300 members holding bi-weekly classes in Ortigas and Makati.

As a community of people living with HIV and those tested “negative” but likewise support the cause, YFL seeks to send the strong message that “there is no place for fear, stigma and discrimination in our world.”

The number of people getting HIV infection is sending shockwaves of alarm the world over. In the Philippines alone, six cases are recorded a day unlike in 2006 when it used to be just a single case per day, said Cu-Unjieng in an interview with the Inquirer.

It should be noted that Philippines and Bangladesh are the only countries in the whole Asia Pacific region whose HIV prevalence has increased by 25 percent in over 10 years. Most countries have HIV epidemics that are controlled or decreasing, she said.

Best yoga poses
What makes the YFL program different from among the yoga programs available is its emphasis on the practice of breathing techniques (pranayama) and meditation to deepen the yoga experience.

“Many of our students face extraordinary fear, stress, anxiety or depression because of the impact of HIV and AIDS in their lives, so we use these yoga techniques to help alleviate these and bring them back to a peaceful, happy and optimistic, positive state of mind,” Cu-Unjieng told the Inquirer.

Because HIV attacks the immune system, people who develop AIDS become vulnerable to opportunistic infections. YFL puts premium on certain yoga poses that are especially beneficial in boosting the immune system, stimulating the thyroid gland and detoxifying the body, particularly inversions and fish pose. All breathing techniques are beneficial to the immune system, especially the Ujjayi breath (“victorious breath”), Cu-Unjieng said.

“Meditation is good for everyone, especially those suffering from mental and emotional stress. People living with HIV need to adopt a healthy lifestyle both physically and mentally. Healthy diet, regular exercise, stress-free environment and avoidance of toxins like alcohol, cigarettes and caffeine can all strengthen the immune system,” she furthered.

Part of the YFL program is discussion on relevant issues such as safe sex and positive prevention using the yoga philosophy.

The YFL community provides a safe haven for people living with HIV because they do not need to disclose their status to become members, the founders said. Members are welcomed and treated with the same respect and love as anyone else. The group relies on the support of private and public donors to cover for their expenses and from the minimal “suggested donation” of P200 from students who join their classes.

All the regular yoga classes that YFL conducts are open to anyone who supports the HIV and AIDS cause. There is no registration fee to be a member. Schedules are available at www.yogaforlife.ph.

Yoga for Life Touched Lives

2011-05-22T14:00:00.001+08:00

Around two months of preparation is finally over. Last weekend, we held Yoga for Life's first major major event for the International AIDS Candlelight Memorial. Most of what I did was in preparing print materials like banners, teasers, flyers, etc... my fault for getting my proposed design approved, and thus getting assigned to cascade it as well. Hehe. But it was fulfilling for a frustrated designer as myself. Oh, money matters too... till now, a week after the event, I have the tail end of the accounting to deal with. MS Excel mode, on! All in all, it was a fun event, with the support of the community taking most of the feeling of work out of it. A true group effort, making it feel, for me, like it was a huge success. :-)

On Sunday, May 15th, the Yoga for Life community came together to join the world in commemorating the 28th International AIDS Candlelight Memorial at the Glorietta 3 Park in Ayala Center, Makati City. Entitled “Yoga for Life: Touching Lives”, the afternoon gathered yoga enthusiasts and HIV/AIDS advocates alike in a candlelit sunset ceremony honoring the lives of people affected by HIV and AIDS.

Participants gather for the Candlelit Memorial
The Yoga for Life community took the traditional candle lighting ceremony a step further by making an impact in the way it knows best—through yoga. Co-founders of the Filipino branch, Charmaine Cu-Unjieng and Paulo Leonido, were joined by the country’s top yoga instructors in leading the community through yoga poses, breathing techniques, and guided meditation, thus demonstrating how the discipline and kinship of yoga can help those affected by HIV. More importantly, however, the event, which took place amidst the ordinary buzz of Makati traffic, united the community’s energies towards igniting the flames of HIV awareness in the general public.

Participants engage in yoga practice led by the country's best instructors... I'm actually in this picture... SPOT ME?! Hehe.
As people passed by on the street, some staring, some joining the gathering crowd of spectators, acclaimed yoga instructors Roland dela Cruz, Jeannie Javelosa, Tesa Celdran, Marilen Elizalde, Marc Carlos, Lex Bonife, and Rebecca de Villa each led the participants through a brief series of postures. The yoga practice was followed by a candlelit “kirtan”, an ancient call-and-response chanting experience that originated in India and involves chanting hymns or mantras accompanied by musical instruments. The kirtan called upon sacred energies which served to quiet the mind, remove obstacles, and bring the participants back to the center of their being—while also commemorating the lives of those who have died, and allowing spectators to recognize how precious and powerful their own lives are.

The event also celebrated Yoga for Life’s official launch as a non-profit organization. Yoga for Life began in June 2010, and is the Philippines’ first community-based yoga program for persons living with HIV, as well as others who support them and the cause and want to experience the beauty of yoga. To date, the community has grown to over 300 members, as YFL continues to reach more people and build a community of advocates who, through yoga, share their energies towards living positively and living well.

Participants in the yoga practice model their warrior pose
This particular event, the 28th annual International Candlelight Memorial (the longest running grassroots movement around HIV and AIDS), also marked the first time YFL has joined the global cause and the tens of thousands of people from 83 different countries who participated in similar memorials. While the Candlelight Memorial was originally started to commemorate the lives lost to HIV/AIDS, Yoga for Life chose to expand the mission, praising the lives of those who continue to triumph in spite of the virus, and celebrating the HIV advocate in everyone.

Charmaine Cu-Unjieng, co-founder of Yoga for Life, joins others in singing the kirtan, an ancient call-and-response chanting experience
The memorial coincidentally occurred in the same week as a groundbreaking new discovery relating to HIV treatment. Results announced on May 12 by the United States National Institutes of Health show that if an HIV-positive person adheres to an effective antiretroviral therapy regimen, the risk of transmitting the virus to their uninfected sexual partner can be reduced by 96%. This discovery will seriously change the way HIV is treated, and hopefully have a huge impact on the so-called “prevention revolution”. At a time when the number of HIV cases in the Philippines, once noted for its remarkably low rates of HIV, is rising steadily—the results from March 2011 marked a 43% increase compared to the same period last year—any HIV advocacy, such as that encouraged by Yoga for Life, is of great importance to the country.

Participants engage in the kirtan
If you are interested in joining Yoga for Life or want to help their mission, visit www.yogaforlife.ph.

Yoga for Life offers classes twice a week for those living with HIV and/or those affected by HIV in some way. Classes include breathing techniques, postures, and guided meditation meant to address the fear and stress of HIV, as well as the stresses of everyday life:

Wednesdays at 7pm: 28th Floor Conference Room, Medical Plaza Ortigas Building, 25 San Miguel Ave, Ortigas Center, Pasig City

Saturdays at 2pm: Century Plaza Penthouse, 120 Perea Street, Legaspi Village, Makati City

Photos courtesy of Yoga for Life

Touching Lives Thru Yoga

2011-04-29T23:15:00.004+08:00

On Sunday, 15 May 2011, the Yoga for Life community will come together to join the world in commemorating the 28th International AIDS Candlelight Memorial at the Glorietta 3 Park in Ayala Center, Makati. Entitled Yoga for Life: Touching Lives, it will be an afternoon that will gather yoga enthusiasts and HIV advocates alike in a candlelit sunset ceremony honoring the lives of people affected by HIV and AIDS.

The Yoga for Life community will take the traditional candle lighting ceremony further by making an impact in the way that it knows best - through yoga. Co-founders Charmaine Cu-Unjieng and Paulo Leonido will be joined by the country’s top yoga instructors in leading the community through yoga poses, breathing techniques and guided meditation, to demonstrate how the discipline and community of yoga help those affected by HIV. More importantly, the event aims to unite the community’s energies towards igniting the flames of HIV awareness in the general public.

The event will begin with registration at 3:30 pm, and will be supported by yoga instructors Roland dela Cruz, Jeannie Javelosa, Tesa Celdran, Marilen Elizalde, Marc Carlos, Lex Bonife and Rebecca de Villa, HIV advocates from different sectors and friends of the Yoga for Life community. Proceeds from the event will support the services that Yoga for Life provides to the HIV community, which include yoga classes, meditation sessions, and HIV and life-skills counseling.

This is the 28th year since the International Candlelight Memorial was first held, making it the longest running community event around HIV and AIDS. It will also be the first time that the Yoga for Life community is joining the tens of thousands of people from 75 different countries in touching the lives of those affected by HIV. While the Candlelight Memorial was originally held to commemorate the lives lost to HIV, Yoga for Life chooses to empower the lives of those who continue to triumph in spite of the virus, and celebrate the HIV advocate in everyone.

Yoga for Life began in June 2010, and is the Philippines’ first community-based yoga program for persons living with HIV, as well as others who support them and the cause and want to experience the beauty of yoga. To date, the community has grown to over 300, as Yoga for Life continues to reach more people and build a community of advocates who, through yoga, share their energies towards living positively and living well.

So come and join us as we touch lives through yoga!

Intercourse of the Church

2011-04-25T22:00:00.002+08:00

The issue of the Reproductive Health Bill or RH Bill has been heating up again. What with President Noynoy Aquino seemingly back to support the RH Bill again, and as expected the Catholic church not backing down from opposing it. Oi, who would ever have thought that Reproductive Health would be of a priestly concern? For me, it would be like me promoting sex with a female... irrelevant... disjunct... does not compute. But well, things happen. So the church and the RH Bill have headlined Yahoo! news today... not just once, but twice!

Some Priests are Pro-RH Bill - Bishop

The Catholic Church does not have the unified support of all its members when it comes to the issue of the Reproductive Health Bill, an official of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) disclosed today.

Pampanga Archbishop Paciano Aniceto, chairman of the CBCP’s Episcopal Commission on Family and Life (ECFL), revealed that there are some priests who are pro-RH bill.

“Well, in the Church, there’s a space for dissent also… Even the 10 commandments, there are many who disobey it, right?” Aniceto said in an interview. “We leave it to their conscience. We respect that. But majority are not in favor. I think, in their own moral and theological discernment, we should respect them for that.”

He said these priests have maintained anonymity although some bishops are aware of their dissenting positions.

Aniceto believes that these priests are only misguided or are lacking sufficient knowledge about the provisions of the bill.

My thoughts? "I respect your views, but you're misguided." LOL! Ironic much!

Filipino Cardinal Urges Charm Offensive but Hits President's Lack of Faith

Take it from someone who has walked the corridors of power at the Vatican. Saying that Philippine President Benigno Aquino III was now "losing his popularity", Jose Cardinal Sanchez, the oldest among the country's three living cardinals, has urged Catholic bishops to go on a charm offensive and befriend congressmen to win them over in the reproductive health (RH) bill debate.

Sanchez, 91, also lamented in an interview with CBCP News that President Aquino's mother (the late President Corazon Aquino) and his sisters had "more faith than him".

"He is now losing his popularity. He has no firm idea on marriage. It is too much politics now and no longer religion. (His) mother (the late former President Corazon Aquino) and (his) sisters have more faith than him," said Sanchez, who once oversaw the diocesan priests around the world as prefect of the Vatican Congregation on the Clergy.

Hiking Filipinos' income: Sanchez said that the government should try to improve the lot of Filipino families by increasing their income instead of "destroying" them by pushing for the RH bill.

But with the President losing his popularity, Sanchez said that Congress would not be able to pass the bill. And a charm offensive could help.

Sanchez recalled that when he was once a bishop assigned in Bicol, he was a "friend to all the congressmen" so it was easy for him to confront them when a proposed law contradicted church doctrine.

"If there are bills contradictory to the Catholic teachings, I would go to these congressmen one by one to enlighten them with the Catholic teachings and they would easily agree with me. And as friends, they would find it hard to go against the bishop," Sanchez said.

However, he admitted that it would be harder to do this now since many lawmakers today are non-Christians.

What next? Sanchez said he came back to the country from Rome to ward off the "tendencies that threaten to destroy the Catholic Church."

He said he was worried that same-sex marriage, which he said had been approved in Brazil - the world's largest Catholic country - might also be "accepted" later in the Philippines.

"I did not come here to fight the RH Bill. I came here to protect the Catholic doctrine. (The RH bill) is insignificant as far as the problems of the world are concerned. But I'm happy that it is being faced seriously by the Philippine Church," Sanchez said.

He said that if the Church fails to reverse these "tendencies" that threaten the Church, there would be fewer priests in the country in 50 years' time.

"The world is changing, and the evil doesn't stop. I hope the Philippines will remain a Christian country. But I know the (Filipino) Christians are not sleeping, they keep on fighting," Sanchez said.

My thoughts? Government increase Filipino families' income how? Perhaps if we begin collecting taxes from the church, hmmm. And it's nice know that the cardinal spilled the beans. So the church is only concerned about the Catholic doctrine and about there being less priests in 50 years. So they really aren't out to care for the people... sigh. Huhuhu... hu.

Let me end with this picture...

LOL! Just quit the intercourse of the church with the state, okay? Abstinence to you!

Sexidents - Toilet

2011-04-21T11:15:00.001+08:00

It wasn’t planned. I couldn’t get out of it. He started it.

This hilariously sarcastic ad campaign created by Grey Worldwide for the MTV Networks says it best with its Sexidents series.

Sex is no accident. Always use a condom.

This particular one is entitled Toilet.

Sex is no accident. Always use a condom.
So, what's your excuse?

Noynoy Risks Ire on RH Bill

2011-04-18T12:30:00.000+08:00

President Benigno Aquino III pledged on Sunday to push for the passage of a reproductive health bill in Congress as a tool to fight poverty even at the risk of excommunication from the Roman Catholic Church.

Efforts to enact a law that would promote access to sex education and contraception have been blocked since the 1990s by powerful Roman Catholic bishops. Around 80 percent of the country's 94 million people are Catholic.

"I remain committed to push the passage of a law for responsible parenthood," Aquino told graduates of the country's premier state university.

"I know there are those who oppose it. At risk of excommunication, it is my obligation as leader to explain my principles to them, even if their minds are already closed. But, in the end, I must listen to my conscience and do what is right."

Last year, Catholic bishops denied threatening to impose canonical sanction against the president due to his plans but reminded him to consider church's position.

The bishops said some forms of contraception were tantamount to abortion. Abortion is illegal in the Philippines.

Aquino has indicated support for the bill, raising hopes it could be passed, but the measure was not on a list of priority bills submitted to Congress.

During his speech, Aquino spoke of meeting an unemployed 16-year-old boy with two children. He said:

"How will they feed their children when they have no jobs? Who is to blame for their situation? How did such responsibility fall on them? More importantly, how can I help them?"

The church says tackling corruption would do more to reduce poverty than slowing population growth. The Philippines has one of the region's highest rates of maternal deaths -- an average of 11 women a day die giving birth.

Foreign missions and international agencies have been urging the Philippine government to adopt a reproductive health legislative framework as an anti-poverty strategy.

The European Union has also called for the passage of a maternal health law, saying slower population growth would improve health and lower poverty. It has promised $50.5 million health package to raise contraceptive usage in low-income, rural communities.

Source:
ABS-CBN News

PGH with a capital ACHE!

2011-04-14T15:00:00.002+08:00

I met a new friend at Yoga for Life quite recently. Despite starting from zero, and being almost a whole generation away from each other, we clicked. Blame location, blame the zodiac, blame Chinese astrology, we just clicked.

So I swore I’d take care of him, as a friend and as a newbie to the HIV scene.

So we were headed home from yoga one Wednesday when he mentioned he was going to PGH for his lab tests the next day. He asked what I was going to be doing. Work as usual. Hey, I’d be a newbie to PGH as well, right? “Sayang, magpapasama sana ako...” and he laughs it off. I didn’t.

The following day, I left the house at 7:00 am as usual. But whether I was going to work or going to accompany someone to PGH was still undecided. Deep inside I knew I wanted to go with him to PGH. I honestly did. He was just hesitant to have me take a leave just for him. If hiya was all it was, then darn. So I decided. I would go with him.

After scurrying about with last minute plans, which entailed a misunderstanding as to where we were meeting, we finally caught up, as his sweet smile and thanks told me I made the right decision.

We took a familiar route, one that I took to the Social Hygiene Clinic in Manila, and the same one I used to take when I used to date someone who lived in Sta. Cruz. A jeepney ride, and a short LRT trip to Pedro Gil Station, and we were at PGH. It wasn’t my first time at PGH, I’d been there for a meeting before. But for medical services? Never. Here goes nothing.

He suddenly realized he didn’t seem to have his lab requests with him. No problem, right? I’d just ask Ate for another set, and that would be that. So we headed to the Infectious Diseases Section (IDS) and knocked on the door. A nurse opened the door, and greeted us, but not so warmly. She was short of asking who the hell are you and what are you doing here. PMS, teh? Okay, stay cool.

So he relayed his problem. And with a furious frown and clearly peeved, she told us to wait outside for the doctor. Hmm. I had to ask, is this nurse always this bitchy? I could not help compare to how Ate takes care of us at RITM.

So we sat along the corridor for a good half hour. We talked about anything and everything, thankful that neither of us had to experience such a thing alone. We fidgeted in each other’s bags, for fans, clothes and books... Good enough as we found his lab requests hidden under all his stuff. Whew!

So we walked down to the cashier and lined up. At the window, we got asked about a Blue or White Card. What card?! I just answered that we came from the IDS. The cashier mentioned something about Charity, and I just thought, okay, if you say so.

From there we walked a short way to the Express Laboratory. But only to get pointed to another lab, Laboratory Info on the second floor. Then we were pointed to the OPD Lab in a whole other building. We managed to walk the whole PGH block to the Faura end, near the Supreme Court. It was the building that housed the OPD. Made sense, at RITM, we were at the OPD department as well.

Inside, gasp! Long lines, hot air and dismal faces. And not just any lines. You were supposed to line up to get a schedule, and come back another day for the actual test. Seriously?! We walked back to the IDS to ask. That just couldn’t be right.

Nurse PMS opened up again. Fine, she was calmer this time. Apparently, we had gone to Charity indeed, which explained the long lines. We were ushered back to the Express Lab. There, we were told we had paid the Charity rate. So once again, we had to line up at the cashier to pay for the upgrade to the Express rate. And again, back to the Express Lab.

So apparently, only blood tests could be done there. No sputum tests. No x-rays. Fine, fine. He took a seat. Before he got pricked, the nurse asked what he was getting the tests for. He hesitated, so I just answered we came from IDS, hoping that she’d understand without us having to spell it out. But she continued to badger. Was this for employment? A check up? Close tayo, teh? I was fed up. Just blurt it out. You want to know? Fine. He said HIV. Happy now? She went on telling my friend not to be too paranoid about the tests and all... Hmmm, free counseling I see. Interesting.

From there, we were pointed to the x-ray section, where we were pointed once again to the OPD building. We got there and it was closed for lunch. Let’s try the sputum.
We headed back to the IDS to ask where we were supposed to go, and nursey pointed us to another section, Lab Info, the same one we passed earlier. Okay, we were really making the rounds.

So apparently, we again weren’t charged the right rate at the cashier, so we’d have to line up. Again. At that point it was noon, and we gave up. He needed to be somewhere after lunch. We agreed that at least we got most of his tests done. And at least we got to tour the PGH, albeit mostly unnecessary, but together.

From there, we had a well-deserved lunch, just some pasta and chicken at McDonalds across the street. Remember, he had been fasting since the night before for his blood tests. So I’m sure he was happy.

We were both skins sweaty, both bodies tired, both legs aching, both tummies finally full, and it was time to go. From there, we were off. He was on his way to school – yes, school – he was enrolling that afternoon... and I was on my way home.

PGH was an experience. It was a long arduous day. But it was a good one. I got to spend the day with my favorite new person. He was happy not having to go through all that alone. And I was happy that he was happy. And I apologize in advance, but let me just say, at the end of the day, I was happy I was with RITM.

Miss Saigon to Miss Condom

2011-04-12T18:00:00.001+08:00

Any time a well-known personality supports condoms and the Reproductive Health Bill is certainly blog worthy, to me at least. And as well as well-known can get, internationally-acclaimed Broadway star Lea Salonga - just of the tiny Miss Saigon and Les Miserables fame - has joined the fight to support the RH Bill, thanks to that crazy ordinance that the officials of Barangay Ayala Alabang passed. So who said I was making a big deal about it? Apparently, I'm not alone.

Lea Salonga joins Ayala Alabang residents to protest condom ordinance

It was the same scene two weeks ago, rallyists dressed in yellow with placards protesting the passage of a barangay ordinance that regulates the purchase, sale and promotion of condoms and other moderns forms of contraception. Only this time they were angrier, noisier and demanding.

Storming the gates of the uber posh Ayala Alabang Village, rallyists were vigorously waving signs. Words that were previously only spoken in angered whispers or "shouted out" in the realm of Facebook, were now brandished in bold red letters: "I am a citizen of the Philippines, not Alabangistan!" read one placard. "AAV = Alliance Against Vaginas" read another placard, giving another meaning to the acronym of the village name. "Get bigots out of our bedrooms!" cried another. Other posters asked those passing by to show their support by honking their horns. And they had every right to be angry.

Since the last demonstration that coincided with the second public hearing on the controversial ordinance last March, there has been no word from the Barangay Council if they were going to repeal the ordinance which was rejected by the City Council and later declared as unconstitutional by various local government agencies.

"Wala pa kaming balita sa barangay council kung ano ang gagawin nila," said former DOH Secretary and Alabang resident, Esperanza Cabral."Hindi dapat pa patagalin ito." Cabral has been leading the efforts among the anti-ordinance group in the village.

Broadway star Lea Salonga, who openly opposed the ordinance said, "We live in a democracy and this is simply not right. Maigiging public record ang pabgili ng condoms at kahit ng pills na pwede naman hindi lang pang-contraception, pwedeng pang treat ng ovarian syndrome, magiging public record. It simply is not right." Salonga said she would have joined the previous demonstrations, but was out of the country.

Raoul, the 27-year old resident whose attempt to buy condoms last March from a drugstore in Alabang Town Center was secretly captured on video, also revealed himself. "I'm an example of who this ordinance directly affects. I'm going to have to go to my doctor and get a prescription for condoms. And how will I even say it, "Doc I'm going out on a date and it might work out."? It's just crazy."

Despite a statement from Barangay Captain Xerex Burgos that the ordinance was not be implemented as it had not yet secured the approval of the City Council, condom sales are being regulated. This was validated by Raoul. "Just three days ago, I tried to buy condoms at the Rustan's supermarket inside the village and they wouldn't let me. Bawal daw." Raoul also explained that condoms were at the back and not accessible without the assistant of a pharmacist.

"We want a resolution to this already," added Cabral who said that since the March 19 rally, nothing yet had been done by the Barangay Council, not even an update. When asked about being prepared for the worst and the ordinance being kept in effect, Cabral said, "They cannot not repeal that. And if they don't then we will just keep on doing this," Cabral concluded.

Read the article here.

All I can say is, "You go girls!"

Three Cheers to Three Years

2011-04-04T08:10:00.001+08:00

It’s April. In the snap of a finger, the first quarter of the year just passed. And in a snap of the finger and all the knuckles of a hand, it’s been just over three years since I got myself tested for HIV. Well, whaddaya know?! Three frickin’ years?! Imagine?!

Yes, yes, yes. I think I’ve told this story a number of times already before, but please bear with my reminiscing.

I recall it was the last day of March 2008. It was supposedly the last day the Manila Social Hygiene Clinic was to offer free HIV testing. And just in time, I had gathered all the guts I had to drag myself there to get tested. And like you may already know, I had scouted out the place some days before, meaning to get tested, but chickened out at the last minute.

The second time proved to be a charm. I guess the end of March deadline was the push I needed. I am a crammer, after all. I mean I was still nervous as hell just walking there, let alone getting tested. But I have no regrets getting tested. At all. I got my results two weeks after, in mid-April.

So I tested positive. Oh well. I was fortunate that I was up for the challenge of living with HIV, which really proved not to be as much of a challenge as I‘d expected. I was curious, open, forgiving, and just ready to delve into unknown and unfamiliar territory, and I guess that helped in the adjustment period. A short learning curve before I could say to myself proudly, “Yep, I have HIV, no big deal“.

Even now, three years later, it’s not at all the big deal everyone expects. I’m still not going to die. It’s still not going to kill me. I’ll still be okay. But of course, I can only say all that because I got tested. Because I know that I am HIV positive. And I know what I have to do to take care of myself. That makes things alright.

In the span of three years, I have never been hospitalized for anything. Well, actually, it’s never happened in my lifetime, except if you count birth and circumcision. These past three years have been almost normal. So if HIV were a battle, then I’m successfully keeping the enemy at bay.

Three years. Geesh. It’s been a while, huh? But what’s changed? Well, of course I‘ve been taking anti-retroviral drugs or ARVs, for almost three years as well. It’s a daily habit, much like drinking multi-vitamins. I’m consciously keeping away from food with raw meats and fish, which I never really crave for anyway. Other than that, I’m not giving myself special treatment.

I am still working, in a field that got presented to me BECAUSE I was HIV-positive. As in, had I not been HIV-positive, I would probably not have started blogging, and would not have gotten the opportunity to write for the advocacy called Positivism, and would not even have gotten the chance to dare to delve into the industry I’m in now. So I can say I thank HIV for that. Interesting, huh?

I also have HIV to thank for some of the friends I have. My BFF. My pozzie posse. The rest of the positive community. The HIV advocates. The Yoga for Life community. I was telling W the other day that I would probably be a totally, totally different person on a totally, totally, different path in a totally, totally different place, had I not been diagnosed with HIV. I mean, I’m still me, but different. Am I making any sense? Bottom line, I have no regrets. I’m glad that three years ago I got tested.

Oh, speaking of tests… let me segue.

I haven’t told you yet, but I got my first CD4 test for this year. I was actually supposed to have it done February, but then I was informed that there was no reagent available to run the CD4 test. So I had to wait. As March came, I got the go signal. So in early March, I scheduled a trip to RITM with W. He was having his CD4 done too, along with all the other blood tests like the CBC and blood chem.

Funnily, I realized I fasted since the night before unnecessarily, since I wasn’t having a blood chem done. I pretended I was merely sympathizing with W’s own fasting. Hehe. Getting to RITM, there was no one at the clinic. It was past 8:00 am, and that was unusual. We headed to the back office, and were told that everyone was attending a seminar that week. Ah, okay. And skeletal force was late?! Argh.

After waiting a while, we decided to go back to the clinic. The nurse was already there, and so were a lot of other clients. Hmm, and we weren’t told. Gee thanks.

This was supposed to be a long story. Long, because the nurse on duty was all flustered, confused, overwhelmed and unfocused, probably because there were so many people there, but if you ask me, she was just plain unorganized and unsystematic. To cut the long story short, all I needed was a CD4 count and a med refill, and yet it took me till past 11:00 am. Geez. I swear, I was at the end of my patient nerve.

I waited for so long that I had time to think about how my last six months were, which could determine how I’d do at my CD4. That meant August to February. In that span, I stressed over Christmas, I lost my job, started a new and more stressful one, and so on and so forth. Sounded bad. But this was also the first full six months that I had been doing yoga as much as twice a week. That may have evened out the odds. So maybe I should think about what I’d been up to immediately prior to getting the test.

Well, the day before, which was a Wednesday, I was working stressed as usual. Bad. But it was yoga night, too. Good. But I slept late and got just about 5 hours of sleep. Terrible. But only because I had some safe mind-blowing sex that evening. Great. Still had no clue. No choice but to wait for the verdict.

Luckily, my calf-caressing friend went to RITM the following day. I texted him for the favor of asking what my result was. Back tracking, if you recall, I had just recovered from a CD4 yoyo of 493 - 447 - 493. Being up and down and all around was no pattern to expect. So when calf-caresser texted, I was shocked. My result was… 646. Whoa! Up 153?! I was in disbelief, honestly.

I was as a point where I thought the 500 mark was just taunting me. I’d been so close, so close. So to absolutely hurdle the whole 500 range was amazing! I’m happy. I officially now have a CD4 count of a normal, non-HIV-positive person. Kewl. I need to keep up with what good I’d been doing. Religiously drinking my ARVs. Of course. Doing yoga. Definitely. Having mind-blowing safe sex. Perfect. And just being optimistic and happy. Easier said than done, but the least I can do is try.

Great news without the April fools! Three cheers!

You and the Youth

2011-03-22T09:00:00.001+08:00

Last March 12th was unlike any Saturday. While there was a Yoga for Life session, I was excused because I was to be one of YFL’s representatives to a major major activity of another of the HIV NGOs. Youth AIDS Filipinas Alliance or YAFA was launching its latest awareness campaign. Entitled the I Am Positive campaign, it was brilliant because the heavens know the thought of such a concept had crossed my mind already before. And to see it, albeit not my own doing, made me think, “Damn, brilliant!”

So Saturday morning, I was on my way to Manila Grand Opera Hotel, the venue of the event. I had it all planned out, having searched for its exact location, mapping my route, plotting my schedule. But I needed to make drastic changes to my travel at the last minute, as non-operational LRT stations botched my plans. Ergo, I was late. Well, not so bad, just about 10 minutes. So I guess you can say I was fashionably late.

Getting there, I saw some familiar faces. A long-time-no-see pozzie friend, Juan dela Cruz, greeted me as I entered. Saw a number of YAFA peeps, who I’d gotten acquainted with as fellow Yoga for Lifers. A number of other people I knew from other NGOs and government agencies. Even the UNICEF lady who E and I worked with for the Power Of You campaign in Subic and Cebu was there.

Checking out the programme, a number of other familiar faces would be there. Performing would be Nyoy Volante and my ever favorite Kung-Ako-Na-Lang-Sana girl, Bituin Escalante. Whoa. Not bad. Not bad at all.

I knew Congressman Revilla was to be guest of honor. I had been jokingly wondering which Revilla it was. I swear, I didn’t know. Tina Revilla? Not exactly the politician type. Bong Revilla? Isn’t he a senator now? Jolo Revilla? He’s too busy with showbiz. I jokingly wondered if it was Lani Mercado-Revilla. Sure enough, it was. She never struck me as a Revilla, because she was always known as Lani Mercado.

I didn’t know that she was into HIV issues. I was told she was an advocate, rightfully so since she is mother to confirmedly sexually active kids. If we recall, her son Jolo sired a son with the daughter of Rosanna Roces, out of wedlock and at such a young age. And then her other child, a daughter, was pregnant at age 16. Hmm. Sounded good, if only she wasn’t feeling important enough to be more than an hour late for the event. Oh well. Might be Noynoy’s fault for banning the indiscriminate use of sirens.

So anyways, the event began late still without Ms. Revilla, with speeches from the head of YAFA, and representatives of UNICEF and UNFPA going ahead. I think the most common thing about all the speeches were the reason behind the campaign. Statistics saying the Philippines is one of only seven countries with an alarming rise in HIV cases were cited as reasons. I don’t know. For me, the rising rates still just say that more people are having the guts to get tested, which isn’t exactly a bad thing.

Up next, another huge part of the event, was the launch of YAFA’s Youth Ambassadors. Consisting of individuals in their 20s and below, this was a group that would be roaming the Philippines to spread education and awareness on HIV issues to their fellow youths.

A hefty group of seventeen, it was astoundingly a mixed group. Genders? Males and females. Sexual orientations? Straight, gay and bi. Regions? Metro Manila, Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao. At-risk groups? MSM (men who have sex with men), IDU (injecting drug users) and F/MSW (sex workers). HIV statuses? Positive and negative. Just really all sorts were represented in the 17 individuals. I guess the only common thing was that they were all youths. Precisely, Youth Ambassadors.

Finally, the time came for Congresswoman Revilla to take the podium. She started off well, citing the reason for her concern, and using her own kids as examples. But then her speech took a turn… for the worse. As she bombarded us with statistics and research, I noticed she began delving into data about condoms being ineffective, condoms having holes bigger than the HIV virus, and condoms encouraging promiscuity. I needed to refresh myself, what event was this again?

In a while, she made it clear. She was against the Reproductive Health Bill, and was going the path of promoting an Abstinence-Only campaign. So what in hell’s name was she doing here? I have no idea.

Seriously, Ms. Revilla? Are you not aware that at least two of your own children have taken the risk? Have you even had them tested for HIV? Don’t tell me that a condom appeared in their dreams and persuaded them to have sex? Oi, you’ve been starring in too many fictional stories… or maybe had too many doses of anesthetics.

At the end of her speech, I did not clap. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who reacted violently. I know at least one other person wanted to speak to her before she left. But she didn’t accept the confrontation, asking the person to e-mail his thoughts to her. Yes, she left the event right after lunch, missing out on the open forum. I smelled the fear. Anywho, as the good congresswoman fled, so did the antagonism.

So instead, the concerns with her speech were flung at the Youth Ambassadors at the open forum, to which they answered that they would still be promoting all forms of awareness and education on prevention measures, condoms and all. That was good to hear.

While sadly not all of the seventeen Youth Ambassadors were there, it was a good representation. There was a performer, a pharmacist, a nurse, and a med student among the eight who were there.

I guess my biggest concern with the Youth Ambassadors would be how committed and capable they are to live the I Am Positive campaign. I do know one Ambassador chose against joining the press conference/open forum because he wasn’t ready for or into that sort of thing. He was also concerned about his fellow Ambassadors who were disclosing their HIV statuses. Hmm. What’s an ambassador supposed to do again?

And the two of them there who disclosed their HIV positive statuses seemed they were still dealing with a lot of their own personal issues. It seemed that getting onto the advocacy bandwagon was their way of coping. Now I’m not saying that it’s illegal to be all emo and teary about being HIV positive, but then I wished they came across as more prepared and ready, and committed to saying with conviction “I AM POSITIVE” in all senses of the statement.

I regret that no one thought this up back when I was still classified as “youth”. Hehehe. Sans the Revilla incident, I can say the event was a success. This was, after all, just the beginning of the campaign. The real work comes as they face their peers around the country, and only then can we judge the success of the campaign, if indeed they spark a new generation of advocates in the Youth Ambassadors and the people they will reach. Congratulations YAFA!

You can learn more about YAFA and the Youth Ambassadors on their website and you can also find them on Facebook.

Temptation

2011-03-08T10:00:00.000+08:00

In the straight crowd, they say there is such a thing as the seven-year itch, which I think means that seven years into a marriage or relationship, reevaluation of the partnership happens, and infidelity tends to step in. Okay, fine. So maybe I’m not straight enough for this to even remotely apply. But honestly, I am feeling an itch. And it’s been just six months into my relationship. So it’s a six-month itch… not even close to seven years. But already, the itch is creeping in. Heavens help me.

Ex-boyfriends of years ago have been making their presence felt again. Not really wanting to try again, but just for old times sex sake. Even the one ex with whom my breakup was far from civil has been haunting me. As in he lied to me, cheated on me, owes me money, and made up stories, to the point that I’m tempted to infect him with my HIV and some STDs just to get back at him… But then, to give him the pleasure of my sex would just be too much in his favor, so I haven’t acted upon his advances.

Some former fuck buddies are back. These are guys with whom my trysts can still stir an erection in me even after all these years, so completely forgetting these hot guys and the hot sex is completely alien to me. I’m not sure if it’s a gift or a curse that I am able to keep fuck buddies of years and more years ago. I guess I try not to be a wham-bang-thank-you-man kind of guy, and can actually build a friendship on the foundation of great sex. And great sex it was indeed.

Pozzie friends should be expected. I’ve had more than my fair share of positively romantic proposals. And if I ever did give in, it would be more than just because we were both HIV positive. These guys are smoking hot and oh so my type! Some pozzie friends, have even been crossing from the Yoga for Life line. I’m beginning to question my principle of not shagging in my own backyard.

Speaking of backyards, I even have a neighbor in my list. As in the guy lives about a block away, in a house that I walk past every single day. Hey, it’s not my fault that he followed me home a couple of times and mustered up the courage to talk to me the next chance he got. But man, a block away? Who are the people in your neighborhood? I now know one of mine. How much more convenient can it get?

Strangers, of course. Buses, the MRT, the mall… good thing I’m not even really into bathhouses, gay bars and other more rampantly sleazy places. And then the internet. Oi. Fine, my fault for still having my accounts on personals sites up. But even without those, even Facebook is becoming a potential cruising place for me. Argh.

Unfortunately, fidelity has never been one of my strong points. I mean I have managed to be completely faithful to some guys I was with… okay, fine… I think I’ve done it twice out of seven. But those two periods I was able to do it, I did under my own power and choice. But, mind you, it was never easy.

I’m not blaming any of these male stimuli for being hot. It’s my fault for giving in to seduction. And until now, I have never regretted having sex with anyone. It was my choice every single time.

It’s just me. I love sex. I absolutely love sex. I love giving pleasure. It fulfills me. I gain pleasure from giving pleasure. And to a point, I let it define my role in life. Who doesn’t want to be of service to others? Some do it through charity. I just happen to do it through sex among other things.

So I really hope the boyfriend knows what he got himself into choosing me as a partner. I mean, yes, he does know every mince of past that I have. He knows I’m HIV positive. He knows I’m a slut. He knows I have the sexual charge of five grown men. He knows I have kinks others can only imagine. He knows it all. But the one thing that makes the story different is that he chose to accept it all. Darn.

So I’m trying. I’m trying extremely hard. It’s not frickin’ easy. At all. And the boyfriend hinting he’d be open to letting other guys into our relationship is not helping my noble cause. Argh.

We all know I’m no angel. So just wish me luck on my huge endeavor. May I make it through my six-month itch. And the seven… And the eight… And… And as Eva Eugenio once sang, O tukso, layuan mo ako.

Prescription for Objection

2011-03-01T10:45:00.003+08:00

I first saw a friend’s Facebook post ranting about Ayala Alabang. I didn’t understand really what it was all about, and brushed it off as something personal. Oi, little did I know that there was more to the sentiment. And boy, when I found out, was I shocked! Who wasn’t? Rumor has it, you now need a prescription to buy condoms in Barangay Ayala Alabang.

No... effing... way.

I heard it on TV, read it in the papers, and of course, it’s true. I searched frantically for where this all came from. Fortunately, the Alabang Bulletin website itself carries the very source. Apparently, this was an ordinance passed by the Ayala Alabang Barangay Council just this year. Entitled “An Ordinance Providing for the Safety and Protection of the Unborn Child within the Territorial Jurisdiction of Barangay Ayala Alabang,” I just had to read it for myself.

So indeed, Section 3 which states the objectives mentions repeatedly about the unborn child, unborn child and unborn child. And right off the bat, starting with the objectives, I OBJECT! What the hell does the “unborn child” have to do with condoms?

I just think that if condoms were indeed used, and used properly, there wouldn’t be an unborn child in the first place. And if there indeed was an unborn child already - ergo sperm has met the egg - then condoms can’t do any more harm to it, can they? So the condoms and the unborn child connection absolutely does NOT compute.

At this point, I need to make clear that I can only defend condoms. The rest, which are defined to be abortifacients, I leave to the straights to take care of. I seriously doubt if I’ll ever need the service of abortifacients in my personal capacities.

In truth, condoms were only really mentioned explicitly once. Section 2 D states that the Barangay, “denounces the use of condoms as far as they promote and sanction immoral sexual congresses among the unmarried and especially among the young...”

Poor, poor condoms. Why denounce condoms? Do condoms contain subliminal messages that human beings do not have the intellectual capacity to thwart? Or is it not true that human beings entertain their own thoughts, make their own decisions, and are responsible for their own actions?

Seriously?! Are we not in 2011 to be this prude? Was it not some biblical character who said something like, “Go forth and multiply”? If that’s not promoting sex, what is? Should we then condemn the bible and Catholicism altogether?

In addition, Section 2 D also states that the Barangay, “condemns the irresponsible and indiscriminate use of contraceptives as they undermine the solidarity of families by promoting premarital sex, giving rise to more fatherless children, more single mothers, more poverty, and more abortions when the contraceptives fail to prevent conception, and by causing a decline of legitimate marriages”

So, in the same sense, should we condemn the use of seatbelts altogether because they also give rise to more fatherless children, more single mothers, more poverty and more abortions when seatbelts fail to prevent deaths due to road accidents? Duh.

And is there a study that proves that contraceptives actually cause a decline of legitimate marriages? I thought we were protecting the unborn child? How come it seems we are now protecting legitimate marriages? Again, the connection is lost.

Personally, I actually think this ordinance was just a sneaky way of getting condoms into trouble by generalizing the contraceptives category. I mean, seriously, to ask for a prescription for condoms... Isn’t that a bit much?

If doctors do prescribe condoms, I suggest they give free Viagra along with it, as people would have to sustain erections much longer to make up for the consultation time. Oh and the clinics should be open 24 hours a day, too, to accommodate late night and early morning spontaneous sex.

I mean, Filipinos are conservative now as it is, that you have to take a pack of condoms up to the cashier. And now you have to go to a doctor to prescribe them? Considering it would technically be a doctor’s consultation to have to ask for a prescription, a consultation you may have to pay for, could this be a ploy for additional income for doctors in Ayala Alabang? Don’t doctors in Ayala Alabang have anything better to do than prescribe condoms? How sad.

Fine, so maybe I’m biased towards condoms, but let me ask you a few questions...

If this were enacted just to save the unborn child, then should this prescription requirement not be targeted only to straight couples having vaginal sex? Because the last time I checked, homosexual acts, and anal and oral sex can only give rise to pregnant tonsils and fudgy cream pies. Let’s not even talk about bestiality. No unborn children there... ever.

Oi, there are so many issues in this ordinance that violate basic human rights.

If in this Barangay, commercial entities are not allowed the fair right to do business and sell their innocent goods, then they should pack up and move out of the Barangay. If schools are not allowed to be proactive and care enough to uphold their constituents’ rights to education, albeit sex education, then these schools should move where they are free to do their duty. Barangays need to care for businesses too, ya know.

Clearly, this Barangay has a hidden agenda, and does not truly care about the wellbeing of their people. To everyone living in Ayala Alabang, move out, and go to where you will be cared for. Or stay there, and just go to neighboring barangays to get condoms and get the health services you deserve.

Oh, and next time, do NOT vote for the people behind this ordinance, namely Barangay Captain ALFRED A. XEREZ-BURGOS, JR., Barangay Councilors JOANNA CALUGCUG, ALICE A. BACANI, MARIA CARMEN G. REYES, MA. SOLEDAD M. TUGADE, MARIANO S.MANAS, JR., APOLINARIO R. DE LOS SANTOS III, GIANCARLO A. NAZARIO, and SK Chairman JUAN ENRICO A. PARFAN.

They are NOT at your service. They are not very smart either. While Ayala Alabang is known to be the village of the rich and cultured, clearly, the rich and cultured are not exempt from being uneducated.

A quick search reveals that Alfred A. Xerez-Burgos Jr. is President and CEO Landco Pacific Corporation (I would think twice about living in Landco properties now). He is President of the Muntinlupa Development Foundation, a 20-year old Foundation helping the poor people of Muntinlupa (helping themm multiply?). He is also the President of Club Punta Fuego, Inc., and Chairman of Philippine Red Cross, Rizal Chapter (seriously?). He graduated from the Asian Institute of Management in 1971. Prior to this, he graduated among the top 25% of his class from the De La Salle University in 1969 (yes, La Salle, he is your product).

One last question. If I move to Ayala Alabang and have unprotected sex with everyone there and infect everyone with HIV, would I be applauded and excused because of the unavailability of condoms? You know, for the protection of the unborn child? Hmm, interesting.

Read the entire text of the ordinance below, or visit the Alabang Bulletin website.

Republic of the Philippines, City of Muntinlupa
Sanggunian Barangay of Ayala Alabang
Barangay Ordinance No. 01, Series of 2011

AN ORDINANCE PROVIDING FOR THE SAFETY AND PROTECTION OF THE UNBORN CHILD WITHIN THE TERRITORIAL JURISDICTION OF BARANGAY AYALA ALABANG; FIXING PENALTIES FOR ITS VIOLATIONS, AND, FOR OTHER PURPOSES

Be it enacted by the Sangguniang Barangay of Ayala Alabang, Muntinlupa City:

SECTION 1. SHORT TITLE
This Ordinance shall be known as the Protection of the Unborn Child Ordinance of 2011.

SECTION 2. DECLARATION OF BARANGAY POLICIES
A. BARANGAY AYALA ALABANG (hereafter, the BARANGAY) upholds (a) the State’s recognition of the sanctity of family life and its obligation to protect and strengthen the family as a basic autonomous social institution (Article II, Section 12 of the Constitution); (b) the duty of the State “to equally protect the life of the mother and the life of the unborn child from conception” (Ibid.) since the unborn is the family’s most vulnerable member, and, (c) the State’s identification of the Filipino family including the unborn child as “the foundation of the nation” and its pledge to “strengthen the family’s solidarity and actively promote its total development” [Article XV, Section 3 (1)];

B. The BARANGAY also adheres to (a) the State’s declared policy of “full respect for human rights” (Article II, Section 11), the most basic of which is the right to life for without it all other rights become meaningless; (b) the implicit Constitutional principle that the people’s right to life (Article III, Section 1) like that of the unborn child is an absolute value and norm that cannot be repealed by ordinary legislation;

C. The BARANGAY likewise supports the State’s recognition of (a) the right of children to proper care and nutrition, protection from all forms of neglect, abuse, cruelty, exploitation and other conditions prejudicial to their development [Article XV, Section 3 (2)]; (b) the vital role of the youth in nation building, and (c) its commitment to promote and protect their physical, moral, spiritual, intellectual and social well-being, and, (d) the role of women in nation-building, and, its pledge to ensure the fundamental equality before the law of women and men (Article II, Sections 13 & 14);

D. The BARANGAY as well (a) endorses the view that contraceptive pills and hormonal contraceptives and the IUD may kill children and injure the health of women who use them; (b) condemns the irresponsible and indiscriminate use of contraceptives as they undermine the solidarity of families by promoting premarital sex, giving rise to more fatherless children, more single mothers, more poverty, and more abortions when the contraceptives fail to prevent conception, and by causing a decline of legitimate marriages, and, (c) denounces the use of condoms as far as they promote and sanction immoral sexual congresses among the unmarried and especially among the young, thereby contradicting the Constitutional injunction that the State “shall promote and protect … the physical, moral, spiritual, intellectual and social well-being” of the youth;

E. The BARANGAY (a) acknowledges that the unborn possesses and enjoys all human rights like other persons by nature and by law and that he or she shall be entitled first and foremost to the right of life, safety and protection even as he or she may still be in his or her mother’s womb; (b) follows the mandate of the Constitution that the unborn child shall be protected from the moment of conception from all outside interventions, interferences or intrusions, including, but not limited to, intentional acts that may be medically considered as abortive whether through the use of chemicals, surgical or abdominal massage during the natural process of growth of the fertilized ovum, and (c) backs up the principle that the right of the parents over their minor daughters with unborn children is superior to that of the State in instances involving the safety, protection and welfare of the said unborn children and their mothers of minor age; and,

F. The BARANGAY lastly deduces from pertinent Constitutional tenets that since life begins at conception there is no place for the so-called “free choice” argument to justify compulsory sex education in the schools within its territorial jurisdiction that, among other things, disregards “the right of families or family associations to participate in the planning and implementation of policies and programs that affect them” [(Article XV, Section 3 (2)] or that insidiously allows the State to take over “the natural and primary right and duty of parents” to rear their children “for civic efficiency and the development of (their) moral character” (Article II, Section 12 last sentence).

SECTION 3. OBJECTIVES
The ordinance has the following objectives:
(a) to promote the safety, protection, and, welfare of the unborn child from the moment of conception or fertilization and during all stages of development while inside the mother’s womb;

(b) to acknowledge the unborn child as a human being with human personality and to extend the mantle of legal protection to the child from the moment of his or her conception or fertilization;

(c) to mandate that the delivery of health services to the mother during pregnancy shall be done without prejudice to the unborn child;

(d) to ensure the continued well-being and good health of the mother by protecting her from any act or threat that may adversely affect the viability of the unborn child in all stages of the mother’s pregnancy and even after the child’s delivery;

(e) to encourage the legal, moral and healthy sexual relationships among those entitled thereto under the laws of the country and pursuant to the religious convictions of the couples concerned as mandated by the Constitution; and

(f) to support the Constitutional precept that the total development of the child is a primordial duty of both the parents and the State and its agencies, including the BARANGAY.

(g) to promote and provide effective and scientifically proven Natural Family Planning (NFP) services to married couples and those engaged to be married, because NFP, unlike contraceptives, strengthens rather than weakens the marriage bond between husband and wife, which is the foundation stone of the family, the foundation of the nation.

SECTION 4. DEFINITION OF TERMS
For purposes of the Ordinance, the following terms are defined as follows:
Unborn – refers to a child at any stage of his or her existence and development beginning from the union of the sperm and the egg until the birth stage;

Conception or Fertilization – refers to the time that the sperm fertilizes the egg, which starts a new life that has a distinct existence and genetic make-up of its own;

Implantation – refers to that stage of development of the fetal life which takes place around five days after fertilization when the fertilized egg is implanted in the ovum.

Fetal development – refers to the development process of human life from the union of the sperm and egg until the birth of the child.

Abortion – any act or practice whether done intentionally or unintentionally to endanger, cause or bring about the death, injury, damage, expulsion or interference in the natural development of the fetus or the unborn child such as through “hilot” (abdominal massage), administration of certain medicines or herbal concoctions, suction, hysterectomy, saline injection, hormonal contraceptives, intra-uterine devices (IUD’s) or other similar means or devices like vacuum aspirators or abortifacient substances whether used singly or in combination with other substances.

Abortive acts – abortion practiced by the woman herself or by her parents or guardians, physicians or midwives or pharmacists who dispense abortives in violation of the provisions of the Revised Penal Code (Articles 256-259).

Contraceptive – any device or drug that is intended or has the purpose or effect of preventing conception as a consequence of sexual intercourse.

Abortifacient – is any device, medicine, substance or practice which may damage, injure, interfere with the natural development, endanger or cause the expulsion or death of an unborn child; except for such devices, medicines, substances or practices which are standard medical treatments for medical conditions which threaten the life or physical health of a pregnant woman or an unborn child, when used to treat such medical conditions, and neither the primary effect nor purpose of such device, medicine, substance, or practice is to cause the termination of a pregnancy or prevent conception. Abortifacients include Intrauterine Devices (IUD’s), and hormonal contraceptives, as well as any and all other devices, medicines, substances or practices which fall within the foregoing definition, including but not limited to the list hereto attached as Annex A entitled as List of Hormonal Contraceptives. This list shall be updated from time to time as the need arises.

Human personality – refers to the status that is gained and attaches to an unborn child from the moment of conception.

Parental Right – refers to the right of parents to give or withhold consent when minors are involved in any decision or disposition relating to unborn children at any stage of their development in the wombs of their minor mothers.

SECTION 5. HEALTH SERVICE DELIVERY
All health services performed within the territorial jurisdiction of the BARANGAY including any other institution or person, whether natural or juridical, the Barangay Health Centers and any domestic health care institution, which is duly licensed and accredited and devoted primarily to the maintenance and operation of facilities for health promotion, prevention, diagnosis, treatment, and care of individuals suffering from illness, disease, injury, disability or deformity, or in need of obstetrical or other medical and nursing care shall use only safe, ethical, effective, legal and non-abortifacient medicines or drugs or machines, devices or methods of treatment that do not cause abortion intentionally or unintentionally.

For the protection of the unborn and the institutions of marriage and family, no abortifacients shall be prescribed by health care providers within the territorial jurisdiction of the BARANGAY.

All funds which are budgeted or disbursed by the BARANGAY for programs to support responsible parenthood shall be used exclusively to promote and provide effective and scientifically proven Natural Family Planning (NFP) services to married couples and those engaged to be married.

The BARANGAY shall encourage, and where possible support, financially and otherwise, the establishment of one or more crisis pregnancy centers within the Barangay, to provide assistance in the form of counseling, and, if possible, medical and material support to women who are experiencing a crisis pregnancy.

SECTION 6. PROHIBITED ACTS
It is hereby declared illegal and unlawful for:
1. Any natural or juridical person to advertise within the territorial jurisdiction of the BARANGAY by billboards, brochures, leaflets, flyers or similar means or in any manner or form, sell, offer for free or endorse, promote, prescribe or distribute abortifacients as defined in Section 4. Definition of Terms.

2. Any person to subject an unborn child or his or her mother to acts that may endanger or expose the unborn child or mother to injury or death.

3. Any person to hold, conduct or teach compulsory sex education without prior consultation with, and written permission of, the parents or guardians of minor students in any school, public or private within the territorial jurisdiction of the BARANGAY;

4. Any funds of the BARANGAY to be used for the purchase or provision of contraceptives as defined in Section 4. Definition of Terms; and,

5. Either the BARANGAY or its employees or its agencies to solicit, accept or dispense contraceptives as defined in Section 4. Definition of Terms.

SECTION 7. REGULATED ACTS
The pertinent provisions of Republic Act No. 5921 entitled AN ACT REGULATING THE PRACTICE OF PHARMACY AND SETTING STANDARDS OF PHARMACEUTICAL EDUCATION IN THE PHILIPPINES AND FOR OTHER PURPOSES enacted into law June 21, 1969 are hereby incorporated into the Ordinance as an integral part thereof and are reproduced as follows:

“Section 37. Provisions relative to dispensing of anti-conceptional substances and devices. No drug or chemical product or device capable of provoking abortion or preventing conception as classified by the Food and Drug Administration shall be delivered or sold to any person without a proper prescription by a duly licensed physician.

The pharmacist in charge of a drug store or pharmacy after filling a prescription containing abortive or anti-conceptional substance or devices shall record in a separate register book for abortives and anti-conceptionals, the following data;

(a) Number and date of the prescription;
(b) Name and address of the physician;
(c) Name, quantity and manufacturer of the drug;
(d) Name and address of the purchaser;
(e) Date of filling the prescription; and
(f) Signature of the pharmacist filling the prescription.

“Section. 41. Other penalties. Any pharmacist who shall violate any of the provisions of Sections twenty-eight, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-seven and thirty-eight of this Act or any pharmacist after his certificate of registration has been lawfully suspended or revoked, who continues to engage in the practice of pharmacy, shall, upon conviction thereof, be sentenced to a fine of not less than one hundred pesos but shall not exceed five hundred pesos or to an imprisonment of not less than thirty days but not more than four months, in the discretion of the court.

Any person other than citizens of the Philippines having been found guilty of any violation as provided for in this and the preceding section shall, after having paid the fine or having served his sentence or both when so required be also subject to deportation.”

In addition to the above provisions of Republic Act No. 5921, classifications of drugs or chemical products or devices that are abortifacients as defined in Section 4. Definition of Terms shall also fall under the regulatory provision of this Section.

SECTION 8. PENALTIES
(a) Any person found guilty for the first time of violating any provision of Section 6 of the Ordinance shall be fined in an amount not less than P1,000 but not exceeding P5,000; for the second offense, he or she shall be fined in the amount of not less than P5,000 and be imprisoned for not less than one month but not exceeding six months; and for the third and succeeding offenses, he or she shall be sentenced to an imprisonment for not less than six months but not exceeding one year. Violators of the Ordinance shall also be held civilly liable to the offended party.

(b) If the person violating any provision of the Ordinance is an employee of the BARANGAY, he or she shall also be dismissed from his or her office and shall thereafter be barred from holding any public office.

(c) If the person violating any provision of the Ordinance is a business enterprise, firm, company or corporation or an educational institution, its president, chief executive officer or any other person responsible for the management and/or operation of the enterprise in the BARANGAY, shall suffer the penalties provided for in Section 7. In addition, the BARANGAY permit to engage in business of the said business enterprise, firm, company or corporation or to operate a private educational institution in the Barangay shall be declared null and void.

SECTION 9. EXCLUSIONARY PROVISION
Acts already proscribed by the revised penal code or by any special law are excluded from the purview of the ordinance and shall be penalized pursuant to the provisions of the code or the applicable special law.

SECTION 10. SEPARABILITY CLAUSE
If any provision of this Ordinance or part thereof is declared invalid or unconstitutional, the remaining provisions shall remain valid and subsisting.

SECTION 11. EFFECTIVITY
Within three (3) days from the enactment of this Ordinance, the Sangguniang Barangay shall furnish copies thereof to the Sangguniang Panlungsod of the City of Muntinlupa for review. If the Sangguniang Panlungsod fails to take appropriate action on the Ordinance within thirty (30) days from receipt hereof, the same shall be deemed approved. The Ordinance shall take effect upon the approval by the Sangguniang Panlungsod or as herein provided and after its posting at two conspicuous places, one at the entrance of the Barangay Hall of Ayala Alabang and another at a visible place accessible to the public in the BARANGAY for three (3) consecutive weeks and its publication in a newspaper of general circulation for one (1) week.

PASSED AND APPROVED, JANUARY 3, 2011.

Signed by Punong Barangay ALFRED A. XEREZ-BURGOS, JR., Barangay Kagawads JOANNA CALUGCUG, ALICE A. BACANI, MARIA CARMEN G. REYES, MA. SOLEDAD M. TUGADE, MARIANO S.MANAS, JR., APOLINARIO R. DE LOS SANTOS III, GIANCARLO A. NAZARIO, and SK Chairman JUAN ENRICO A. PARFAN. Attested by Barangay Secretary SANTOS A. RANCUDO.

Feb & Favorite

2011-02-25T11:55:00.001+08:00

He’s a reader who I met and became friends with. We don’t see each other much though, but we text every so often. I received a call from him a couple of weeks ago. He broke some news. And it was great news. It would be an honor. It would be flattering. It would make me proud. But I was still in disbelief. I needed to see it for myself. Or hear it for myself rather. So I did.

What the frick am I talking about? I was apparently mentioned in a Fabcast, which is a podcast of THE fabulous people, the Fabcasters. And not just any Fabcast, mind you. This was the Fifteen Favorite Blogs of the Fabcasters.

Wehhhhh?! Totoo?

Searching for the entry on the site of ManilaGayGuy, I fortunately found it. So apparently, they listed down fifteen of their favorite blogs – not necessarily the best or the top, just their personal favorites – that are gay-originated or oriented, and definitely Pinoy. Check, and check...

And indeed, I was there, first mentioned! Well, not necessarily because I was the best, or the kulelat at that. I was just lucky to come first in alphabetical order. Hehehe. I’ll take it!

Apparently, it was an AJ who nominated my blog. Not sure if this is “Baklang AJ” of the BaklaAkoMayReklamo blog, who I remember commenting on my past blog entries. Whoever this AJ is, Migs, the ManilaGayGuy reveals him to be an acronym for Ang Jojologs...

I giggle everytime I hear the part where he playfully teases, “Jologs nga!” Hehehe, everytime! EVERYTIME! He took it back anyways, saying, “Magfe-favorite ba tayo ng panget?” Even if he possibly meant it, who cares?! Ain’t nothing wrong about being jologs!

Of course, I didn’t stop the Fabcast after hearing my blog. I was curious who else was on the list. And what good company it was... Here are the other blogs on the list:

BaklangMaton

Chuvaness, apparently a writer of the Philippine Star... Wow!

CityBuoy, who has won at the Philippine Blog Awards

DiscreetManila

HotMenInThePhilippines

FickleCattle, a lawyer by profession... Ooh!

JessicaRulesTheUniverse, no less than Jessica Zafra! Whoa!

Lexuality, director and screenwriter Lex Bonife of Lalake sa Parola and Kambyo, and who I’ve met and yoga-ed with!

MandayaMoore

MisterHubs, the blogger I’ve said in the past I’d like to meet, and have!

TheBaklaReview

TheProfessionalHeckler

Tiggah'sLife, apparently an exhibitionist – interesting – from California

and TristanTales, a friend from Washington DC... but rival for the malibog at malandi throne, hehehe.

Whew! Even if I were actually just the fifteenth ranked, still an honor to be in this list!

Answering why they came up with this list, the Fabcasters say they wish to encourage more people to read these worthy blogs. Naks.

So to Migs the ManilaGayGuy, Gibbs Cadiz, McVie, CC (who I believe is supposed to be CorporateCloset), Tony, and AJ, MARAMING MARAMING SALAMAT! and THANK YOU! and WORLD PEACE!

Listen to the Fabcast here.

For Rent

2011-02-15T20:45:00.001+08:00

In the relationship I’m in, I hardly make decisions. Partly because I really am less dominating, but also because he’s more critical. He’s more set in his ways, and I’m more open to anything. It’s a match actually. My favorite line, “Up to you”. So taking the reins for a major date night was huge for me. But I took the chance.

It was back in January that I struggled to even consider planning it. There were so many reasons to. I was about to be fresh out of a job, with loads of free time to spare. It was Valentine season, a first for us, a major reason for a major date. A friend was going to have his star shining on that stage, and I was thrilled at the chance of watching him. And I had never watched Rent before, not in the movies, not on video, not on stage, not ever.

So I scoured the net for ways to get tickets. I found it, and asked Hubby if he was game, without revealing what exactly I was planning. I tried to keep it a secret. I chose a date, he marked it off. I wondered what seats would be good, he left the choice to me. I opted for what I guessed to be the best seats to watch from. I made the reservation, paid through a bank deposit, and it was set. On the very opening day, the very first evening performance of its 2011 run, I was finally going to be able to watch Rent.

Though our reservations were still for the 8:00 pm show, we had practically the whole day planned out. We met to have lunch, some mmm mmm Savory chicken after his morning meeting. I skipped yoga to keep my day open for our big date. We drove to the Rockwell area, where he had some work to do for a client, with which I was able to help out as an extra pair of hands. I truly enjoyed that. From there, we had an early dinner at XO on Jupiter Street in Makati, and headed finally to RCBC Plaza early so we’d not have to be hustling our way there.

We got the tickets we reserved, and had about an hour to spare. So we grabbed some coffee, and hung out. After a while, we took one last trip to the restrooms, and headed in. Drumroll… and… whew! I was happy that he approved of the seats I got. Not too near, not too far. We were right smack in the middle of Orchestra Center.

Soon, a robotic sing-song voice flooded the theater. “This show will begin in ten minutes. Thank you.” Then five minutes. Then two minutes. Before I knew it, the lights dimmed, and I held my breath…

Before this, all I knew about Rent was that it touched on HIV and AIDS. And of course, Seasons of Love. I knew that three hundred sixty five days, at twenty four hours per day, and sixty minutes per hour, made ‘five hundred twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes‘. That’s all.

So without giving anything away, I giggled at Gian Magdangal’s grind, groove and guy-liner, I am humbled with how homey OJ Mariano plays a homo, I was superbly shocked to see Ciara Sotto’s sensual, sultry and slutty side, I mooed at Maureen’s maniacal monologue, and of course, I acclaim at the acrobatics and antics of the amazing Angel, played by Job Bautista, famed tomcat of the Pole Cats, and fellow Yoga for Lifer. Bravo!

Of course, as pleased and excited I was every minute I was there, Hubby had different things on his mind. Thanks to my super power of peripheral vision, I could see every smirk, every sigh, every tsk, every head scratch, every eye roll… everything from notes not hit, to lines unheard, to palengkera pokpoks behind us, to the cigarette breath of the guy seated next to us, he was just stressing himself out.

It wasn’t easy. It just wasn’t easy. But then, he’s just like that. Blame that he is himself musically gifted. Blame that he is a performer himself. Blame the hypertensive genes. Blame age. Whatever. I admit, it wasn’t easy, but it was fine. I try my best to appease him whenever he gets like that. Thank heavens I don’t sweat the petty stuff myself. Maybe opposites do attract, huh?

Well, he didn’t exactly ruin the evening, despite all that. He did have a good laugh as we got lost in the parking lot. He did admit that criticizing stuff was one hobby he enjoyed and enjoyed a lot. He did say he was happy just spending the whole day with me. Good answer. Good answer.

So would I recommend watching Rent? Of course! It was a great place for a Valentine date, and a perfect last hurrah to my bumhood. Now I’m not naturally a critic, not of the performing arts at least, but I can safely say I enjoyed the production. Immensely.

I giggled every time the “AZT break” punch line got thrown… oh, boy, could I relate! And I got teary-eyed when Angel got kinuha-ni-Lord, and even when he showed up again at the curtain call. Cheesy! And I absolutely especially loved every time the chorus sang the all-too-familiar Seasons of Love. It never tires. It never tires. Fine, so maybe I’m not really musically inclined enough, but who cares if the highest note Mimi hit was the screech of her thighs against a cold metal pole?! Ah basta, I enjoyed myself!

Perhaps it helped that I was relating on a personal level. Perhaps it helped that I myself have been counting my own five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes for the past almost three years now. And mind you, I’m still counting and I have no plans of stopping just yet. Go and check out Rent. Perhaps someone you know is counting his or her own five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. I can only say, there’s only me. There’s only us. No day but today. No day but today.

Rent is being held at the Carlos P. Romulo Auditorium in RCBC Plaza, from February 12 to March 6, 2011, on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. For more information on the schedule, reservations, and tickets, visit www.9workstheatrical.com.

Work It, Jerk

2011-02-04T08:20:00.001+08:00

I’m unemployed, but my body clock is still wired, so I still wake up early. But after breakfast, I walk the Li’l Bastard. I love how I can sleep a couple of hours more before lunchtime, and doze off again for siesta afterwards. Then the drowsy side effect of my ARVs help get me to bed early, earlier than usual even. So I’m truly enjoying my break from work. I may be enjoying it too much. As much as I’m enjoying being a bum, I don’t really want to get used to this.

So this early, barely a week since my unemployed status, I’m keeping myself on my toes, thinking about what career paths I could consider in the next phase of my life. Truth be told, I have a lot of options. Only because I’ve done a whole spectrum of things in the . And in a world that demands a master-of-one, I’ve learned to embrace the jerk-of-all-trades in me. Let’s see, what are my “trades”?

I like telling stories. Okay, let’s qualify that statement. Yes, I may flunk in interpersonal skills, bordering on anti-social, and I’d rather take the non-confrontational communication in the form writing. I tell my stories in a written form. And status quo would declare that I milk this love for the language and stay a writer. Oh heavens if I could couple that with my love for adventure and become a travel writer… I’ve been lucky enough to have met one, and boy, did I envy his job.

I love sex. There, I said it. I love sex. But I doubt if there are any job openings for sex educators. I remember back in college how I loved seeing raids on callboys, macho dancers and toreros. Rather than thinking “Shame on you!”, I’d have “Darn, why can’t I do that?!” running through my head. It just seemed like a logical thing for me. They say do what you love, right? But then that’s the extreme that I may do even without the monetary returns. And that won’t pay the bills.

I am organized. Fine, I was being politically correct. I am almost obsessive-compulsive. I hate clutter, and love having a place for everything and everything in its place. I’ve actually been able to use all that to my advantage when I was doing admin work at a previous job. Files and materials were neat and orderly, saving on both time and space. And the ultimate sign you could make a living out of being OC? When you’re better at organizing other people, than you are at organizing yourself. Hehe.

I like working with my hands. And I’m not talking about sex at all. I have unleashed the inner “er” in me more than a handful of times before. From plumbing, to painting, to building, to gardening. But I would love to use my OC side as well, and do organizing through custom closets. Yes, I have considered taking up carpentry courses at TESDA a while back. And yes, if I were to turn it into a business, it would have to be called Back in the Closet. Interesting…

I have a visual logic. And although I’m a self-learned designer, I have been able to use that in previous tasks, doing brochures, presentations, branding, layouts, websites, cards, and so on. I don’t even remember how I learned to use Photoshop, for heaven’s sake. I’m not sure I’m skilled at it either. I just discover things as I go. But it works. And coming from a design firm with real graphic designers, while I learned a lot, I know I have more to learn.

I love numbers. I do. I love how, with numbers, there’s only a right and a wrong. No subjective, just objective. That’s the logic and the geek in me speaking. Again, this has been something I’ve used before, doing everything from feasibility studies to accounting. Add to that how I’ve been known to be the Excel nerd, oh, heaven. Rows and columns of integers and decimals to sort and sum, all give me pure orgasmic pleasure... Oops, sorry, I got carried away.

So there. I’m overwhelmed, and this is just the tip of the iceberg. As much as I would love to jump on the first job vacancy that comes along, I am unfortunate to have a brain that works this way. So many options, so many factors, so many decisions. And even more unfortunate, even as a self-confessed jerk-of-all-trades, the one thing I don’t believe I’m very good at, is making decisions. Ugh. Wish me luck.

Going Down with the Ship

2011-01-31T08:00:00.002+08:00

I’ll have a lot more time for reading. I’ll have a lot more time for sleeping. I won’t exactly have a lot more room in my closet. But I can now stay out all night long if I feel like it. IF I feel like it. That’s still one big if.

It’s official. I’m out of a job. I’m now unemployed.

It was in the last quarter of last year that things began to get fishy at work. Certain people were pulled aside, with whom something serious was discussed. The next thing we knew, that same day was to be their last day. They were to be retrenched.

Nope, I wasn’t exactly heaving sighs of relief. Now that was an absolutely demoralizing thing, even for the rest of us who were spared. And deep inside, no pep talk from management could stop us from wondering when the next cut would be, and who would be the next victim.

During the following months, people began resigning one after the other, and for one reason or another. But I’m pretty sure the uncertain future of the company was a factor.

Again, it was difficult working through all the turmoil. And it wasn’t hard to notice how the management wasn’t even trying to replace those who were leaving. This wasn’t just about thinking positive. It was about whether or not we were blind… or even stupid. Still, some of us stood strong - I’d like to believe I was one of them - keeping focus on the tasks at hand, carrying on carrying on.

And then it happened. Apparently, before New Year, the owners decided that was it. They would cease operations. The ship was going down.

I found out unofficially in the first week of January, having had to be told only because it was detrimental to how we would be dealing with existing and potential accounts. It’s just really beyond me as to why they didn’t just spell it all out the first working day of January. Must our agony be delayed? Will it make it easier? Not at all.

Some people who did know about the pending fate of the company became so different at the time. They were less personable, more uncomfortable, not even being able to look into our eyes. Some made themselves less conspicuous in the office, transferring almost altogether to the other side, the sister company. It was funny, it felt like the captain and his staff abandoned ship, but sadly, leaving some of us behind and in the dark, and taking all the lifeboats along with them.

Finally, the second Monday of January, they made the announcement. It was a brief pep talk, but really, not brief enough. At that point, all I really needed to hear was “We’re closing by so-and-so, and we will need everyone to so-and-so before that.”

Slowly, things became clearer. It was our department, the Creatives, which housed the accounts, writers and designers, that was really getting the brunt. And tenure with the company apparently made you even more of a target. Hmm.

I hate that I understand a bit of the business, admin and human resource side of things. That it’s not that easy to close a company. That it’s odd for people being retrenched to be asked to resign. That thirty-days-notice is an absolute number, either it is or it isn’t. That all this could’ve been handled in a better way.

So for the weeks that followed, we were counting down the days. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t demoralizing for me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel any negativity. I did, I did. But I hope I kept those feelings to myself successfully. As proudly and professionally as I believe anyone could ever manage to, we trudged along, keeping up the level of service to our clients, all while watching the end of an era approach.

And by Friday, the 28th of January, after one last client meeting, we headed back to the office and three of us colleagues, three of us friends, began cleaning out our drawers. No sadness, really. We knew we did our jobs. In fact, that evening, we had a little reunion, where 10 people, who had at one time or another become colleagues at the company, got together again to catch up, this latest milestone as stimulus. A great night of chatting and drinking in the cool breeze and under the night sky.

It was not a bad year-and-a-half to sum up. It was an opportunity that came, enticing enough to draw me away from a previous job I was in for a good five years. It was an almost alien field to start with, and people from whom I learned a lot.

It was the first place where I really saw how one's HIV-status need not be detrimental to one's career. It was an unusual environment, where I may have unexpectedly just met the best straight guy friend I’ll ever have... nope, no sexual tension at all, just a lot of respect regardless of my seemingly differing sexual orientation and HIV-status, all of which he accepted, and despite which, we clicked and made a great team at that.

So for now, with this turn of events, is it an unknown future for me? Not exactly. Uncertain, maybe, but not bleak at all. It’s not like I’m going to go hungry in a day or two. Fortunately, I’m not the type to live a hand-to-mouth existence. I guess my biggest worry, once again, would be the potentially huge change. I still hate change. But then, as long as it’s something I can even try to handle, as much as I tried with this HIV thing, then bring it on.

For now, I’m just hoping I spare my mom of any worries. I actually just told her the story of what happened yesterday. A bit late, I know, but as usual, I was just handling things by myself as much as I could.

I did keep the hubby in the loop the whole while, and he’s been very supportive, and an ear to rant to, but I still hate how he promises he’d take care of me, no matter what, because he loves me. Sorry, I’m too proud to take any glimmer of charity just like that. But I love the guy and confess that I was touched when he said that. Gah. Cheesy.

Oh, well. I guess, it was all fate. It was written in the cards. Just like the HIV-positive chapter of my life.

If at least, this has kept me on my toes. If at least, it has become a time for me to evaluate exactly what I am capable of doing, what I want to do, and what is available. If at least, it has brought the realization that I’m actually quite fortunate to have options. If at least, this has reminded me how friends should hang in there for each other through thick and thin. If at least, this has taught me to take all the Feng Shui hullabaloo with a grain of salt... quit relying on burning and incense, and just do your job, will you. If at least, this has shown me that going down with the ship ain’t nothing at all to be ashamed of.

Meds, Grants & Insurance

2011-01-16T11:15:00.001+08:00

So as I mentioned in the story of my last trip to RITM, aside from getting my ARV refill, I ended up accomplishing something else, which was to submit partially to the RITM personnel the required documents regarding my PhilHealth. PhilHealth is the Philippine government’s health insurance system. Why is it just now that I’ve needed to submit stuff regarding my health insurance information to my HIV treatment hub?
Okay, here’s the deal. The Philippines’ ARV supply is currently supported by Global Fund grants, Global Fund being an international funding agency that somewhat focuses on HIV and AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria. And the Philippines is and has been a beneficiary for the past few years for HIV and AIDS, and Tuberculosis.

Naturally, that’s how funding works, right? You take out a grant for a project, towards certain goals for a certain time period. As that period draws to a close, the beneficiary is expected to furnish the benefactor the proper documentation to show where the funds went and how the funds were used. Causes or projects that are able to prove themselves trustworthy of funds can then usually easily apply for a new round of grants.

As such, the Philippines has been a beneficiary of the Global Fund for some time now. It is shouldering the cost of ARVs and some aspects of care and treatment such as medical consultations and laboratory tests. But at this point, a wave of anxiety and an unsure future is spreading through the whole positive community as it is being revealed that funding will cease by 2012.

Gasp! How cruel, how cruel! But is it really merely cruelty at all?

The first problem is that, from way back to my 2009 Funder Blunder entry, one of the non-government organizations, the Tropical Disease Foundation or TDF, that had served as a primary recipient for Global Fund grants, has failed to properly account for I-don’t-know-how-many millions of US dollars in grants, which the Global Fund itself has evaluated as “unauthorized expenditures“.

As a result of that, the Global Fund suspended for some time further funding of new beneficiaries, or new pusits. It was actually a relief that, later on, the funding was reinstated to the Philippines, with the Department of Health or DOH taking over the role that TDF was playing. So we all breathed sighs of relief. I’m quite uncertain though if TDF was able to fix the controversy it got into. Millions of dollars? I doubt.

The second problem is that the grant that is being enacted today, specifically for the care and treatment of HIV and AIDS, was really only meant to last until the year 2012. Meaning, 2012 marked the end of the period covered by the grant, and a new round of grants would need to be applied for beyond 2012. Simple, supposedly. But apparently, the country’s application for a new grant beyond 2012 didn’t make the deadline. Seriously? We missed a deadline?!

So who was supposed to do that on behalf of the country? The Philippine National AIDS Council, or PNAC. I’ve seen certain persons from the HIV organizations in online discussions blaming PNAC. HIV positives blaming PNAC for the oversight may be expected, of course, we are the ones who are directly affected, right?

But I must amusingly point out that these very HIV organizations are supposed to be members of, and be representing the positive community in PNAC, alongside government agencies like the DOH, DOLE, DOJ, and DSWD, and other non-government organizations. So wouldn’t their finger-pointing towards PNAC just ricochet back to their own organizations? Hmmm.

It’s just funny that, back in the day when we, the first positive bloggers, were making our voices heard, it was people from these very groups that were trying to take us down. And even more funny was that even as we were just putting together Positivism, they had tried to defame us, probably because they saw us as rivals for funding.

And now, we have them there on online discussions trying to rally us, the positive troops, around the issue, and even going as far as criticizing as being negligent of duty, anyone who is any ounce short of participating. Where the hell is all this negativity coming from? Heaven knows. Perhaps if certain people realized that snuffing positive voices and killing new advocacy groups was not part of their duty, then they could have fulfilled their responsibility to be representatives of the positive community.

Anyway, back to the problem of grants. So as a backup plan for persons living with HIV, should the time come that grants from Global Fund cease, Philhealth may shoulder the medical tests and services needed, and subsidize the cost of ARVs. So I had to leave photocopies of my Philhealth ID and my ARV regimen booklet, submit a copy of my Philhealth Member Data Record or MDR, as well as accomplished Philhealth Claim Forms 1 & 2. Just a few more things I need from my employer.

Since I’m currently employed, membership in PhilHealth is mandatory, so I get part of the premiums deducted from my salary automatically every month, while my employer is obliged to pay for another part. For those unemployed or who have never signed up for PhilHealth, there is an option of voluntary membership, which I think costs PhP200.00 or so a month.

So there. If at least, the Philippines is on the road to becoming less reliant on external funding to fulfill everyone’s, us HIV-positives in this case, basic right to healthcare.

Considering that voices from the grapevine say ARVs may still cost us around PhP3,000 a month even with PhilHealth subsidy, I think the ones who will be most affected by any interruption of Global Fund grants would be those who aren’t working. But then, having HIV is NOT an excuse to stop working, right? Not unless you’re paralyzed from the neck down or in a coma, which is hardly the case.

Some may think it’s easy for me to say that, since I’m currently employed and working right now. But then it is the truth. Having HIV is NOT an excuse to stop being productive. I’m not in a particularly secure situation myself right now... I’ll tell you about it later... but I’d still vouch for it.

But anyway, I’m not panicking about the funding issue. Stressing out about it this early just may affect my health, won’t it? And worrying about the future just ruins what you have today. We still have hope. No reason to stop hoping. Things will happen if they’re meant to happen. Que sera sera. For now, I still have the rest of my life to deal with. To infinity and beyond.

Honeymoon + Wedding

2011-01-09T07:45:00.002+08:00

The year 2010 wasn’t so bad. Status quo, I think. As 2010 slipped away, it left me wondering how 2011 would fare. Or more like how I’d fare in 2011. Hmm. Aside from the usual family thing we have on January 1st every year, I started the year of with a planned trip to Tagaytay, primarily for our Yogi Babe’s wedding, but at the same time an out-of-town trip with the Hubby. A wedding and a honeymoon. A honeymoon and a wedding.

Sunday morning, I was lugging my backpack, a shoe bag and my yoga mat, on my way to Greenhills to meet the Hubby. I waited outside a Starbucks. In almost perfect timing, he passed by after a couple of minutes, had me load my stuff in the trunk, and hop in as we proceeded to the parking area. From there we walked back to Starbucks and chatted over drinks.

Why Greenhills? Hubby and I were going to mass. It was a Sunday, after all. He had invited me before to attend mass with him so I could see him play, but I’d never gotten the chance to. I knew it was important for him, so even if I’m not really a staunch churchgoer, I was there. Watching him on the organ while the choir sang was entertaining. If not for the couple of cute boys on the choir, just seeing him move, a la Cecile Licad at that. And he was so proud. I was happy he wanted to share that experience with me.

After the mass, around noon, we forewent lunch to get on our road trip. A stopover along SLEX to buy ice and reload the toll thingy, and we were off. Traffic wasn’t bad, considering most were going the opposite direction, on their way back to Manila. The next stop we made was at Paseo de Sta. Rosa for lunch. Poquitomas, not a very attractive name, but the food not bad at all. After a go at the buffet, we took a little stroll around the picturesque grounds. And full with gastric and scenic delights, we resumed our trip.

I think it was about 2:00 pm when we got to the house in Tagaytay. It was his aunt’s place, which he borrows sometimes. We’d actually spent a weekend there together already once last year. Our little love shack, if I may say. We unloaded our stuff, and settled in. We were both tired from the trip, but after a while just laying in bed, talking, tired but unable to doze off, we decided we’d just head on out and take in the town.

We headed off to find dinner, ending up in a quaint restaurant called Greek Taverna. Just two tables were occupied, again perhaps because everyone had left the little vacation town as the holidays drew to a close, and were on their way back to the real world already. But we appreciated the quiet. We ordered some pasta, lamb and skewers, all the while taking snapshots of ourselves documenting our little meal.

We went to get coffee at the nearest Starbucks, but the lines were too long. We did however chance upon a holiday bazaar, where we each bought a warm and fluffy animal cap - him a pig, since he was born in the Year of the Pig, and me, a goat, only because there was no horse, and not even for an Arian, which I am not. It wasn’t too late yet, so we thought we’d visit the wedding venue, an ocular of sorts, armed with a printout of a map, just so we could study the route which at that point we were both unfamiliar with.

I admit, we made stopovers on the way, at a drugstore and a couple of convenience stores. We looking for... lube. We were on a honeymoon, weren’t we?! Depressing how the drugstore and the first convenience store didn’t have any water-based lubricant, so much so that I actually felt I had to buy out the stocks of the second convenience store just to make sure. Supply and demand. Supply and demand. I demanded.

Anyhoo, we didn’t actually make it to the wedding venue that evening. We didn’t get lost, but we gave up. The only resolve was realizing that it was much farther away than the map suggested. Oh, well. We’ll find it tomorrow. We went home, washed up, relaxed, and put the condoms we brought and lubricant we bought to good use. Mmm.

Come morning, I awoke first and started preparing early. It was the wedding day itself, but I was dressed down in shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Nope, not for the wedding just yet, but for yoga. Yep, Yoga was part of the wedding itinerary.

Hubby dropped me off at Hacienda Isabella, where the wedding and all the other activities were to be held. Yep, he just dropped me off. Even with the other Yoga for Lifers there, he drove off without even getting introduced to them. He’s shy. Discreet somehow about what we have. Truth be told, of all my friends, he’s only ever managed to agree to BFF to meet us as a couple.

So with the Yoga for Lifers, we walked in and took in the sights. From what areas we had access to, it was amazing. Sprawling lawns with flourishing trees and charming structures all around. And to realize we were going to do yoga outdoors on the grass in the morning sun and cool breeze was amazing. It was an exhilarating practice, along with some of the other wedding guests, about twelve of us if I’m not mistaken, that left us energized for the day ahead, and the bride de-stressed hopefully from the wedding jitters.

Feasting on a well-deserved breakfast of eggs Benedict, I hitched out with the Yoga for Lifers, and got dropped off at the house where Hubby was waiting. He had had breakfast as well on his own. I showered and rested a bit, after which we hit the road again, to get some Good Shepherd products for him to take home, and have a hearty lunch of kare-kare at Sanctuario.

Back home, we laid in bed a bit. As in, a bit. It was twenty minutes, maybe, before I realized I had to start preparing for the wedding ceremony. I needed to shower, dress up, and pack the rest of my stuff so everything would be ready, as we planned to head back to Manila right after the wedding dinner. Nope, Hubby wasn’t coming with me to the wedding. He’s shy, remember? He was just really there to spend the rest of the time with me.

So I hitched to the wedding with one of the Yoga for Lifers, just to save Hubby from the long drive so he could just relax at the house. Now the wedding was to die for. The ceremony itself was heavenly, less religious than usual, but solemn and romantic nonetheless. Perfect. Simply perfect.

Drinks and finger food by the pool, a raid of the photo booth, and a hangout at the wish quilt, and I got a text. Hubby was in the parking area. I rushed over to keep him company, but he ushered me back in, saying that he’d just hang out and wait. How could I? He wasn’t there just to be my driver, ya know. But he convinced me he was okay waiting, and I hesitantly headed back in already planning my early exit.

I tried to enjoy dinner as much as I could, and the great food made that easy. The guests all sat at long tables dining on pasta, skewers and veggies, capped off by a slew of desserts, from fruit salad to strawberry crepes. But then I really couldn’t get away from the fact that someone was waiting for me in the parking lot. Mmm.

The programme started, and as much I would have wanted to go up to the couple and thank them for the wonderful evening, they were too enthralled in each other and in the speeches their families and friends were giving, that I decided against it. So I sought permission to go from the Yoga for Lifers instead, as BFF volunteered to accompany me to the car. Again, BFF is so far the only one privileged to see us as a couple. A hug and a kiss goodbye, I packed myself into the car and we drove off.

In the car, I did get the vibe that he wasn’t totally okay just waiting it out in a parked car. But he did know he made that decision. Besides, he was able to go for a spa day while I was at the wedding. So after a while, we were all good again.

We had dinner again along the SLEX, but still, in a whiff, thanks to the traffic-less streets, we were home around 11:00 pm. What a way to end the holidays, and start the New Year. It was a tiring trip, but I dare to speak for both of us when I say that we had a lot of fun. Enough warmth to cut through the Tagaytay chill. A honeymoon and a wedding. Not bad. We haven’t gotten a lot of opportunities to go out of town together, so to start the year off with this one should make the rest of 2011 one hell of an adventure.

Shooting Stars

2011-01-07T11:00:00.001+08:00

Okay, fine, so maybe I'm not shooting stars... or any heavenly body for that matter. But how about the Philippine Star? Hmmm, why not?

So Yoga for Life has once again made the pages of a national broadsheet, the Philippine Star specifically. And I sort of got quoted. Not mentioned, but quoted. Considering my last mention was in Abante, I'll take this one.

Yoga for Life, and Living for Yoga
by Audrey N. Carpio

On the first day back from the holidays, my yoga class was expectedly full with new people and their steely resolve to get on the fitness track. As we stretched out our creaky bones, saturated with Christmas fat, and sweated out the hangovers, I once again thought about what it was about yoga that has made me keep coming back to it throughout the years. I was always a nerd, unathletic and gawky, and in high school I would skip PE classes by managing to always have my period. The competitiveness of team sports didn’t appeal to me, and running like a hamster in the gym was boring and tedious. Discovering yoga was somewhat of a breakthrough in my physical routine, mainly because it wasn’t all about the physical. There was a mind-body connection that appealed to my intellectual and spiritual side while also creating a stronger, more toned body. After the last minutes of savasana I would always feel centered and peaceful, free of toxins both physical and emotional. So I wasn’t surprised when I came across yoga for people living with HIV. As a practice with proven physiological and psychological benefits for almost any type of body, it makes perfect sense.

Yoga for Life, a community-based yoga series created by Charmaine Cu-Unjieng, a Yale-educated HIV specialist, and Paulo Leonido, a fitness expert and personal trainer, came together when the two met during yoga teacher training under Roland dela Cruz of Bliss Yoga. Call it dharma. “We were together six days a week for two months. We’re both passionate about HIV. We even have the same birthday,” Charmaine says. “I always wanted to merge the work I had been doing with yoga, and meeting Paolo catalyzed it.”

With her contacts at Echo Yoga, a group that offers alternative classes to niche groups like overweight and older people, and his contacts at Philippine General Hospital and the Research Institute for Tropical Medicine, Charmaine and Paulo developed an Iyengar-based yoga program designed for the needs of people living with HIV and AIDS. Worldwide, yoga is being recognized as an important complementary therapy for immunosuppressed patients. “I have friends living with HIV. I had always wondered, what happens next?” Paulo says. “So we came up with Yoga for Life, which is a non-strenuous, holistic approach to wellness.”

The first couple of months of classes were not so easy, as newcomers had many fears to overcome and needed to grow more comfortable about opening up and talking about HIV. “We didn’t know at first whether to focus on people with HIV, or make it an advocacy against stigma and discrimination, open to everyone. We were also concerned about confidentiality,” says Charmaine. But it has become a safe space: there is no requirement to disclose one’s status, and the classes are indeed open to people with HIV and those who support people with HIV. Ninety percent of the students are gay men, and half of them are estimated to be HIV positive.

In Ayurvedic philosophy, specific poses like inversions are beneficial to the immune system, while backbends stimulate thymus activity and forward bends detoxify the liver. B.K.S. Iyengar, the founder of Iyengar Yoga, outlined a sequence of poses that encourage proper blood circulation and activate glands that are known to regulate the production of T-cells, the body’s army against infections. For people living with HIV, yoga alleviates stress and depression. For those on ARV drugs, yoga helps detoxify their system. After an hour and 15 minutes of asana practice, the students are guided through meditation and breathing techniques, and it is in these moments that yoga becomes its most medicinal. “Our approach is to bring back the inner peace, self love, self empowerment and happiness. You don’t have to be reminded about your sickness,” Charmaine explains.

Feedback and results from students have been encouraging. One student, with a dangerously low CD4 count of 7 (HIV-negative people normally would have 700-1,000 T-cells) was getting sick with opportunistic infections. The doctor advised him to stop exercising. Charmaine and Paulo put him in relaxing poses. He stopped getting fever every day, and started gaining weight and getting stronger. His new CD4 count is unknown, but one can surmise that his stabilized health reflects a higher number of T-cells. Paulo shares that other students are starting to practice on their own, even employing breathing techniques inside taxis when they need to calm down.

With Paulo as a great motivator for the students, keeping in touch with inspirational texts, Yoga for Life has become more than just a place for a judgment-free work out. “Yoga for Life has proven itself to be a real community,” blogged one practitioner who had been living with HIV for three years. “Being with the Yoga for Life community turned out to be the best way to celebrate World AIDS Day. Yes, I dare to use the word ‘celebrate.’ Because gone are the days of World AIDS Day being a commemoration of the lives that had been lost to AIDS. Rather, we should be celebrating. Celebrating life going on in spite of the virus.”

For the new year, Paulo and Charmaine are hoping to scale up their program, introduce fun safer-sex campaigns to spread the message of positive prevention, and find more yoga teachers. As they run it on a volunteer basis and only ask for a suggested donation of P200 per class, the sustainability of Yoga for Life still looms as an issue. But with the energy they give out in service to others, the universe is sure to respond in manifold.

* * *

Yoga for Life is held on Wednesdays, 7 p.m. at 28th Floor Conference Room, Medical Plaza Ortigas Building, San Miguel Avenue, Ortigas, Pasig City, and on Saturdays, 2 p.m. at Echo Yoga Community Center, 9th Floor Penthouse, Century Plaza Building, Perea Street, Legazpi Village, Makati.

Holiday Count Down

2011-01-01T00:30:00.001+08:00

The eve of Christmas, mass and dinner with my mom’s side of the family. And on Christmas itself, home recovering from the holiday stress. And then back to work for the few days before the turn of the year. That’s how it’s been in previous years. But this year was quite different. Good or bad? Let’s see.

The eve of Christmas was still marked off for the family. But more than my being stranded between the generations, this year I’d be the star. Oh wait, more like I’d have the star. The Li’l Bastard was to make his first appearance as the family’s new bunso at his first Christmas. He was dressed in a little grey shirt with blue piping that matched my own outfit. New places and new faces, kept him quite overwhelmed.

I successfully weaseled out of mass since pets aren’t allowed in the chapel. So we walked around the village to while away the time. Then it was time for a change of costume, as Santa Paws of course! Yes, the Li’l Bastard loves to dress up. And naturally, he became center of attention, the fashionable little whiny pup that always had his left paw up like a limp-wristed twink. Hahaha. Oh well. Mana mana.

By the end of the evening, I was just glad Christmas only happens once a year. Oi, pardon me for thinking that way as early as Christmas Eve.

Christmas Day, I had planned to stay home. But no. I had find internet access because I had work to do. Work?! I knowwwww! Work! So I spent the morning in a coffee shop at the mall, stalling enough through my iced mocha to get everything done. And then I headed back in time for lunch and to spend some home time.

The 26th and 27th continued in the same fashion. No plans, just rest. I did go out for a while to bump into a former college professor of mine to catch up on stuff over a couple of beers, but that was it. Recharge. Recharge.

I had the 28th planned out. I badly needed to go to RITM for med refill… as in two weeks ago. I had already borrowed a month’s supply of ARVs from W, with whom I share the same combination. So like a workday, I left the house at 7:00 am, but this time braved the MRT. Thankfully, it wasn’t as jam-packed as the usual workday rush hour. I actually got to RITM in under an hour, which I found amazing.

There, I texted an online friend. We were eyeballing. Meeting was easy since there were just two of us there at the clinic that early. We talked a bit. He told me about deciding to get tested after noticing he was getting sick a lot, and because he had come from a relationship with a particularly promiscuous guy. I found that amazing that he instantly thought HIV may be the culprit, not your normal reaction. He was barely a month on ARVs, and was there to complete some other baseline tests.

Ate came in and arranged for my refill. Leafing through my records, she pointed out some results. My viral load. The viral load is a quantitative measure of the HIV virus in the blood. The lower that is, the better. I’d never seen my results before. Apparently, my viral load, which is measured annually, has been UNDETECTABLE both in 2009 and 2010. I know I should’ve been jumping for joy, but I was probably in disbelief. Really?! Then my lifestyle, the medicines, and the yoga are working that well. Wow, well I’ll take that.

I left my new friend at the clinic while I went to the pharmacy. Mission accomplished. Ate also sent me to the back office, to submit some stuff for Philhealth. Oi, Philhealth is a long story...

So anyway, that done, I tagged along with my new friend for his errands. Back at the clinic, we caught the other nurse, Ate S. While figuring out my friend’s ARVs, she mentioned they’d started ARVs at the same time. Say what?! Sa kanya ako nahawa eh! I was aghast. Did they have unprotected sex? Did we have a pusit nurse all along?

Well, not quite. Apparently, Ate S suffered from an accidental needle prick injury while administering a PPD test to my friend on a previous visit. So however small the risk, she needed to have a prophylaxis, which meant a month of the very ARVs we‘re taking, just as a precaution. Talk about immersing yourself in the patient’s world, huh? A firsthand experience of ARVs. Not everyone can claim that. But she was in good spirits and was already joking about it.

Oh, and Ate S’ short stint with the RITM is about to end. She said she’d no longer be with us in 2011. Nope, nothing to do with the accident. She’s going to go to med school. I was saddened by the news a bit, she grew into such a competent nurse for us, but I know it’s for the best. You’ll never know, she might come back as our Doc S someday. Hmmm.

From there, we headed off and had lunch at the mall. An early lunch, he was, after all, coming from fasting for all his blood tests. From there, I headed back home to prepare to spend the afternoon with the hubby. Mmm.

Wednesday, the 29th, was Yoga for Life day as usual. But just after lunch, I was off on a mission in Manila. BFF and I met up and took the LRT to Tayuman. We walked a couple of blocks, and finally found our destination. YAFA. Youth AIDS Filipinas Alliance, an HIV advocacy group.

We found the address, but weren’t sure, since it didn’t look right. We knocked. The door was unlocked and opened up to a stairway. We walked up. Tao po? Someone walked out in just his underwear. Oh, welcoming committee? Hehe. Well, we seemed to catch them at the least perfect time. Let’s put things in context, they had scheduled a general cleaning that day, and there was a power interruption, thus, the outfit, or lack thereof.

As soon as they gathered their composure, we got the honor of sitting down with the famous DyingYoung. He told us all about YAFA, and BFF was able to ask his questions about one of their projects. It was actually very interesting, and reinforced the respect I have for YAFA. For such a young group, they’ve really been making waves.

From there, I got BFF to accompany me to the Manila Social Hygiene Clinic. It’s maybe been more than a year since I was last there. Nurse Malou Tan is no longer connected to the SHC. But I got to see Dra. Diana Mendoza, rebond and all. I don’t even think she remembered my name. I left some Positivism brochures with her and asked how the SHC was doing.

They still have free HIV rapid testing there at the Manila SHC, so she asked that we refer people to them for screening. They’re open Mondays to Thursdays, 8:00 am to 3:00 pm, and Friday mornings till noon.

And from there, we took the LRT-MRT route to Ortigas. After a quick snack in Shangrila, we headed to yoga early. Yoga was special today. A hundred and eight sun salutations. Yes, 108 forward bends, halfway lifts, pushups down, and upward- & downward-facing dogs. Was I confident I could do it? Not particularly. But I was going to try. And try I did.

After it all, up to today, two days after, biceps and triceps, quads and calves, back and chest, basically from the top of my neck to the soles of my feet, I’m sore. Sore in a good way. And the fulfillment of getting through the 108 sun salutations is phenomenal. Roarrrrr!

So that was my itinerary for the week leading up to the turn of the year. Sounds like a lot for just a week, especially for me. If that’s going to set the stage for 2011, then it’s going to be a busy one. Bring it on. Bring it on. With that, I hope everyone has all their fingers intact, and had a very Happy New Year. It's 1-1-11. Nagpaputok ka ba?

Party Party!

2010-12-24T10:30:00.001+08:00

Christmas. It’s here. Just when I turned my head away to focus on the flurry of yearend work, it ambushed me like it was no one’s business. It came faster than the MRT. And I snowballed with it as well. I was dreading it. All the stress, all the traffic, all the hassle... I was just really looking for ward to the break... both the Christmas break and a break from the Christmas rush. But it was not meant to be that easy. Christmas sent its advanced party.

I spent my first Christmas party with Yoga for Life. As usual, yogic stuff is far from the usual. The potluck was mind-boggling, it’s never easy for a meat-eater like me to figure out what he could bring for a vegetarian feast. So as I came from work, I shuffled through the mall and settled for some monggo bread. No meat in that, for sure. Rush, rush, rush. I made it to the venue with time to spare.

Not content with just partying hearty, we started with a short yoga practice. Then just as we got totally calmed down, our Yogi Bear and Babe snapped us out of it. It was time to party! I believe it helped that we went through the World AIDS Day thingy the week before. Dramatic as it was for some, it was an icebreaker for sure. A bonding experience. So for the Christmas party, everyone seemed game.

Game, indeed. Games, in fact. There was Paint Me A Picture. A yoga version of Newspaper Dance. Bring Me for items like a pair of underwear on your head, 5-centavo coins, and condoms, which, ahem, I handily got a prize for. And then of course, probably the most fitting yoga game, Twister. Woohoo for me and the four others who they couldn’t knock down! The energetic night was capped off with some take home gifts and an attack at all the meatless but scrumptious food. Kudos to them who organized it and the sponsors who supported it. This party just set the bar.

By that weekend, another one was lined up. Our work party this time. Not knowing people from our sister company, the tacky cowboy theme, the required production number, and the 3:00 pm start all made me less enthusiastic, honestly. But it was something I wouldn’t be allowed to pass up, but only because I got assigned to be the host... Geez, I know, this is the 2nd year in a row that they’ve gone for this admittedly anti-social host... Oi. So I gathered all the kapal-muks I had, borrowed a cowboy hat from my hubby, practiced a dance, and prepared early, and I was good to go.

With ceremonies like a wish balloon release, a holy mass, and photo ops with our big boss, this was certainly more formal that I’d need. I don’t know what happens, but I get drowned in shame and stage fright, and then I turn into a host. Go figure. I don’t know what exactly it takes, but I watch my words somehow, and just okray away, and voila! So with the exchange gift, variety show, raffle, a couple of shots of something I don’t know, and an abundance of my most favorite food, the party actually wasn’t so bad.

Next on the calendar was a couple of parties and gatherings at the RITM. Now these were the ones I was least enthusiastic about. The record of seemingly soulless partying of recent past. The threat of nega-monsters. Having work. The distance. The sleepover. Having to leave the Lil Bastard behind. I had all the excuses. Even the attempt at making it “in memory of Papi” couldn’t get me to go. A no is a no. Sorry.

Instead, we had gotten into putting together a little gathering of our own. A gathering of my pozzie posse. I don’t know why I seem to get myself into it every time, but I was secretariat again. I’m not exactly the kunsentidor of the group, maybe the matriarch, at least. Fine, so I disseminated the invites. It was my pozzie family, "plus plus". "Plus plus" because in the past year, some of them have managed to get hitched or have their own pozzie babies that not everyone knew yet. So it was a celebration of a year since the original group first got together, pre-Christmas, and was going to be a reunion-slash-inventory. Hehe.

As a group that began with us northerners, it was but befitting that it once again come home to the north. So it was set, meet at the local mall at 6:00 pm. I had gotten confirmations, but didn’t really have a good picture until people started trickling in. Me and BFF GreenFrog, Trese with adopted kiddos Pozzieboy and ThisHeartIsStillBeating, O and his hubby, my grandson APositivePointOfView, W, BFF’s latest kiddo, another fellow northerner RecordBreaker, BruskoBoi, and two of my own kiddos. We were far from being complete, but 14 was an achievement, I must say.

It was a good mix. Some of us who’ve been years old with HIV, and some newbies. I really believe it helps to be exposed to others in the same situation but in a normal setting. And normal it was. Dinner at a Japanese restaurant, and videoke after. Not everyone was a singer, but singing was not the only thing there was to do. There was dancing, joking around, catching up, chatting on. I was so happy, that I wanted to be seated at a vantage point where I could see how everyone was having fun. This may just be the start of a yearly gig for us.

Just this past Wednesday, Yoga for Life went for an unplanned part two. There was a mix-up at the venue, which left us without one, so definitely, yoga practice was out. I was ready to head on home, but they thought we could make do with what we had. My favorite doctor advocate played host to all of us, twelve thereabouts, feasting on pizza, brownies and chocolates, and stopping for an educational yoga video.

The highlight of the evening was all the sex talk. With all us gay guys at our soon-to-be-wed Yogi Babe’s fingertips, there was no reason to be shy about anything, not even sex and all. We were curious about her, she was curious about us. Hehe. The taboo, with all of the laughing, giggling and roughhousing, really turned it into a Christmas party part two for us, and bridal shower part two, a gay version, for her. I’m glad I didn’t miss this one.

So there, deny as I may that I’m not ready for Christmas, the party-party mode has certainly taken its toll. A good one at that.

So let me take this opportunity to greet each and everyone a Merry Christmas! Party hard, party safe, party on, and just PAR-TAY!

Goodbye for Now

2010-12-18T08:00:00.001+08:00

Every time I hear that a fellow pozzie passes away, I just thank the heavens that it’s not anyone I know personally, especially not one of my poz posse. I know it’s harsh to think that way, but I won’t lie. And every time, I wonder how it would feel if it was one of my little poz family to go. It’s a question I can’t answer, or am just avoiding altogether. But it is bound to happen. It has always been bound to happen. And recently, it just did. I lost someone from my pozzie family.

It was Monday early morning, around 1:00 am I think. I awoke to my mobile phone ringing. I was still groggy and actually missed the call. I tried to peek through blurry eyes at who called, and realized I had an unread message as well. It was E. Bitch, patay na si Papi. Nasaksak siya. What the?! He must be kidding. E can be such a joker.

Then my phone began ringing again. It was E’s kid, Lil Jenny’s boyfriend. I answered. I sensed panic in his voice. He told me to remain calm. Wala na si Papi. I sighed deeply. He passed the phone to Lil Jenny, who was sobbing. Mami, wala na si Papi. Shit... so is it true?

I don’t know how exactly I felt. I was probably overcome with shock. But hearing the panic and grief on the other side of the line, I needed to remain calm and strong, even though my mind was reeling. I thanked them for the info, told them to relax, and said goodbye. I needed to let it sink in.

The phone rang again, and it was my other kid, RedAppleBlackMark. He said the same thing. Hearing it thrice was enough. This would’ve been too much of a conspiracy if it wasn’t true.

Papi’s gone. Papi’s gone.

Apparently, he was defending his brother against a group of guys. Then it happened. He got stabbed. Twice. Even his current boyfriend, who was with him, got stabbed. Papi didn’t even make it to the hospital alive. Thankfully, his boyfriend did.

It’s not easy to explain how I felt. I was asking myself how the hell it happened. Why the hell it happened. I blame him and his confrontational nature. But why didn’t anyone try to stop him? But that’s that. Not something I can control.

I wasn’t crying. I just might not really be the crying type. Even when my own father died six years ago, I didn’t shed more than a tear. Was I sad? Of course. Sad but not crying. Yes, it’s possible.

I won’t deny that it dawned on me that he never granted me the closure I wanted back when things between us got complicated. Why didn’t I see his confrontational self when I needed it then? He left me to my own capacities to get over things, live with unanswered questions and just move on. Good thing I did, eventually. Civil, but he and I knew things changed between us.

So I was questioning, I was introspecting, I was reminiscing, I was blaming. Even though everyone expected me to be distraught and grieving.

Honestly, I wondered if I deserved the concern people were giving me. Remember, I’m no longer the boyfriend. He is still Papi, but he is not my papi. I no longer have the privilege of acting like I got widowed.

I texted my BFF, GreenFrog, asking if he was up. Thankfully, he was. I messaged him about what was up. He suggested we talk over the phone, so he called. We discussed it, and like me, he was shocked, probably even more than I was. While we were talking, he got online and stalked Facebook. Even more confirmations. It wasn’t just my imagination. Papi’s dead. Papi’s dead.

We had talked. We had vented. But really, there was nothing that we could do. So we bade each other goodbye, and I tried my hardest to go back to sleep. A feat after all that, but I had to wake up for work in a few hours.

Waking up, I knew what had happened the night before. But I was busy. It was Monday. I needed to prepare for work. Me and my routines keep me sane. It wasn’t until I was in the bus, stuck in traffic, left with hours of time to think, that it hit me. I was tearing up, trying hard not to lose it. I don’t know what was running through my head. Probably just me still hoping that he was just happy. Argh.

That evening, I decided to go to the wake. I was glad not to have to go alone. I had BFF, W, and O and his boyfriend with me. We took the trip down south, bonded over dinner on the way, and made it. Here goes nothing.

It was a small chapel in the church compound of the village. I was surprised a bit. Less glamorous than the royalty Papi always seemed to exude. A banner that said Official NBI Morgue... must be that way for murder cases. Why’d he have to beat us to the grave? And so close to Christmas? At such an unholy hour?! And on a Sunday?!?! Geesh, always the center of attention. Oh boy, I was really distracting myself, wasn’t I?

So we walked up to the casket, and took a look. I was aloof, as usual. I didn’t need to say anything. I’m sure Papi knew what was running through my head right then and there. He looked alright. His vain self would’ve been happy. I gave him a secret smirk which said, hey, I’m here, long time no see, we have a lot of catching up to do. I think I wasn’t sad because I felt he was in a happy place. I felt he was happy to see so many people cared.

Walking away, we greeted some fellow RITM peeps - and there were a lot, mind you. Ate was there. My eldest kiddo. Y too. And so many others. Papi was a loss to the HIV community. He was ever present whenever there’d be a gathering at RITM. Even more present than I was, for sure. So much so, he was probably the one who qualified most to be an honorary pusit. And he would’ve been proud.

I always wondered why he got so attached to the positive community of RITM. I remember he told me he got himself tested at RITM for the first time in a long while back in 2008. And though he turned out negative, he developed an affinity to the people he happened to meet then. And ever since, he never got the positive community out of his system. A negative attracted to the positives. Just how a magnet says it’s supposed to be.

Even in the advent of death, it’s never too late to say thank you. So I will. Thank you for the smiles. Thank you for the laughter. Thank you for that one fateful date. Thank you for laughing your ass off with me at Kimmy Dora standing at the back of the movie house. Thank you for the hugs. Thank you for the kiss and the kisses. Thank you for being my first “relationship” since finding out I was HIV-positive. Thank you for reintroducing me to the roller coaster of love. Thank you for saying you’d love me forever no matter what. Thank you for introducing me to the person who became my BFF. Thank you for being the Papi of the family. Thank you for the friendship. Thank you for sharing your life with me.

Life. You never know how it’s going to go. Too soon, they say. Too soon. So the world lost a life. I lost my first official pozzie, though just honorary. He was a couple’s son, a sibling’s brother, a friend’s friend, a stranger’s neighbor, a lover’s lover, a cause’s advocate, my posse’s daddy... and my Papi.

So long Papi. With no tears, all smiles. Goodbye for now. I’ll see you soon...

R.I.P
Papi
June 1972 - December 2010

Pride

2010-12-11T11:15:00.002+08:00

Oi, What a weekend it was. All as usual. Walked the Lil Bastard as soon as I woke up. Had breakfast. Gave the Lil Bastard a bath. Took my own shower. Went to the grocery with mom. Had lunch. Yoga for Life day, but this time, without the yoga. Yep, Yoga for Life without the yoga. Today was going to be different. We would be walking instead of yogaing. It was the 2010 LGBT Pride March.

The LGBT Pride March. LGBT stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender. I belong to the gay part, of course. I’m not lesbian, because I’m not female. I’m not bisexual because I’m not sexually attracted to females. And I’m not a transgender because I’m still all male body parts, no more, no less.

Gay. I’ve never been ashamed of being gay. Not even if most of the paminta population was up in arms declaring they were “bi” when they actually were really gay. Not even if and when the stereotypical gay was the parlorista, keribels. I’m gay, and proud of it. Bakla ako, may reklamo?

I was always out to prove that there are so many forms of being gay, and I was the discreet kind. I never dressed up in women’s clothes... okay fine, I did once when I was fielded to a beauty pageant by my college organization... but on a daily basis, I am still all man. And even if I was the “penetrated and perpetrated”, as my officemate would call it, I have never had the desire to sport a vagina or labia.

Unashamed, but I’ve never needed to shout out to the world that I am gay. As such, this year, I joined my first ever Pride March, as part of the Yoga for Life contingent.

Now Yoga for Life is in no way particularly targeted towards gays. But the reality is that most straight men would either underestimate the effort needed to do yoga, or cower at the possibility of them walking out of the class in a tantrum of I-can’t-do-this. Oi, men and their manhood. That being said, majority of those attending Yoga for Life are men... let me qualify that... men who have sex with men or MSM. A frustrating fact that the straight women who join us have to face. Hehehe.

That being said, whether Yoga for Life belongs in the Pride March is a resounding yes, if not just for the fact that both Yoga for Life and the gay community advocate acceptance and tolerance. Not to mention, this year, the Pride March was to be jointly celebrated with World AIDS Day.

So Saturday afternoon, instead of heading to Makati, I headed to Tomas Morato. This is the first time I remember that the Pride March was not being held in Manila, Malate being the unspoken home of the gays. And being a Quezon City boy, I was glad and proud that QC finally hosted the event. And I actually hope it steals it away from Manila altogether.

I was anxious, because I am never comfortable in crowds, not to mention the extra pretense of a gay crowd. Remember, we are the ones who brought scrutiny to the whole new level of okray. So, I was dressed in my usual comfortable clothes, purposely veering away from any attention-grabbing garb to keep myself under the radar. All I had was a backpack of essentials, plus our Yoga for Life banner in hand, as the cab dropped me along Morato.

I needed to wait a few minutes before the rest of the Yoga for Lifers got there, a few minutes of awkward paranoia, shielding myself both from the sun and from being noticed by others. Upon being prompted, I walked to the meeting place, ready to see my comfort zone.

Greetings and hugs aside, we stowed into a coffee place craving for some protection from the afternoon heat while waiting for the parade to start. Some more Yoga for Lifers trickled in one after the other. Soon we were about ten, thereabouts.

The sounds of percussion drew us out of the café, and we were ready to march loud and proud. Yogi Bear and Babe were there of course leading the pack, dressed in black outfits, a cross between sleek and sultry. The Yoga for Life banner. Some fuchsia balloons. And then the rest of us. Most of us were actually Pride virgins, which may have explained the mix of excitement and anxiety... but really, everyone was game, and we were just all out to have fun and proud to represent Yoga for Life. Then the parade began.

We walked. I spotted Carlos Celdran walking by us, and our Yogi Babe approached him to join us for a picture. He was game! The energy was high. We were following a float of trannies, and their music and antics were keeping the energy high. It was a great place in the parade to be.

We walked. Now I knew that media would cover the event and all. So was I scared of getting exposed as part of the Pride contingent? Not really. Being gay is the least of my issues. What if my mom sees my face on TV? Well, she knows I’m gay. Other people? So what?! My HIV status? Well it’s not like it’s tattooed on my forehead, is it?! I was just hoping I don’t get interviewed... else I might just faint. Hehe.

We walked. Shortly we encountered some guests, protesters to be exact. Waving bibles, disapproving condoms, and declaring “God did not make you gay”, it was laughable, especially since there were just three or four of them there. Old issues that for me were non-issues. Geesh, nothing better?

We walked. A lot of people came out to watch, from the residences and the buildings we passed. Our Yogi Babe was outrageous, approaching people encouraging them to do yoga poses for photo ops. From street kids and fab femmes, to policemen and titillating trannies, to hiphop dancers and construction workers, she was just out to get them! Oi, straight female wins over the gay contingent on this one. Hahaha!

We walked. It was hot. Scorching hot. Not gay friendly. Make-up melts, you know. And oiliness, they say, is next to ugliness. And sweatiness is next to confiscation of the gay license. Argh. But seeing everyone still all out in spite of that was great. It was good too that the streets along which the route ran were pretty wide, compared to Malate where I imagine the density of people would’ve added to the afternoon heat. QC rules!

We walked. Tomas Morato. Eugenio Lopez Drive. Panay Avenue. Timog Avenue. One last turn back to Tomas Morato, and we saw the home stretch. The protesters were back, the same ones we passed going the other way. Namaste. Peace, peace, peace. Some other city should host their march.

We walked. Oi, just a few more blocks... Finally, we made it back to the starting point, a good hour or so of walking under our belts. Geez, an hour?! All for pride. All for pride.

We got a breather before the program started as the darkness of the night set in. A few more Yoga for Lifers joined us, better late than never. As the show started, I think my energy went off with the setting sun. I was pooped! I couldn’t wait to rest. But we wanted to wait until they acknowledged the groups who participated in the event. As fate would have it, they made the announcements in alphabetical order. Yoga for Life? Oi, we were third to the last out of sixty groups. Oh well, we’ll take it.

After some part of the program, including speeches by Quezon City Mayor Herbert Bautista, Vice Mayor Joy Belmonte, both putting Quezon City behind the advocacy of HIV & AIDS awareness and LGBT rights, some musical numbers, a cameo by Journey frontman Arnel Pineda, the descent of seemingly godmother to the gays Risa Hontiveros, and a short segment allowing our Yogi Bear and Babe to talk about Yoga for Life, I split.

I had actually promised the hubby we’d meet, considering the proximity of the venue. But I had tipped him off after the walk about how tired I was already, and had already called our date off. But I thought I’d just push myself a little bit more, and ended up in a cab to his place. I was tired, sweaty, sticky and smelly, but still got the hugs, the kisses, dinner, a movie, and arms to fall asleep in. Mmm. Not a bad way to end the Pride weekend... Happy and Gay!

Yogaing Away AIDS Day

2010-12-04T08:00:00.001+08:00

Fine. It’s December. Primarily, I’m dreading the reality that Christmas is fast approaching. Gone are the days when hearing Christmas carols as early as August was a welcome thing. Lately, I’ve been trying hard to ignore the -ber if the months, even as they didn’t exactly sneak up on me. But even before Christmas hits me smack in the face, the dawning of December is something else. It’s World AIDS Day.

December 1 was World AIDS Day. This is officially my third as someone living with HIV. My first, back in 2008, I remember I was home watching how the news would ramp it up, at the same time awaiting the launch of Positivism. My second, last year, I think I was watching some local documentary about HIV. It’s my third. Imagine that?

It’s my third, and still, I object about being part of the celebration, considering I don’t technically classify as having AIDS. Maybe there ought to be a World HIV Day? Oh well, that’s just me and my twisted mind.

My third year. What did I do? I could’ve been glued again to the boob tube with my guns ablaze ready to shoot down all the reporters who would say something wrong about the issue. I could’ve been leafing through the latest UNAIDS report on the global status of HIV. I could’ve actually been surfing through the Project Headshot Clinic albums trying to spot the people I knew. I could’ve even been lined up at the cinema to watch the premiere of the HIV-inspired and DOH-supported indie film H.I.V.: Si Heidi, si Ivy at si Vi. But no. I had plans.

December 1st this year just happened to fall on a Wednesday. And Wednesday is Yoga for Life day. And as an official HIV advocacy, our Yogi Bear and Babe planned to integrate a World AIDS Celebration into the day’s session as well. Involved as I am in Yoga for Life, I honestly didn’t know what was going to happen exactly.

Getting there, the usual: Changed into my shorts. Rolled out a yoga mat. Chika with friends. Then things were taking a twist.

First, candles were being set up. Tea light candles in little red glasses were shaped to form a red ribbon. Around it, the mats were positioned like rays around a sun. And on each mat, another tea light candle was placed. Hmm. Two friends arrived and started hushing with our Yogi Bear and Babe, with a guitar on the side and a stack of papers in hand. What’s this all about? And shortly, we started.

After some breathing exercises and nine sun salutations, we sat down to start what was called a Kirtan, if I’m not mistaken. Basically, it was meditation through song. Fine, I don’t really sing, but I can try. And try I did. Some songs I actually knew. There were church songs, and you know how I’m not exactly the church type. There were Tagalog songs, the cheesy kind, which I like. And some English songs, including the Rent classic, Seasons of Love. But singing wasn’t all of what it was about, surprisingly.

In between the songs, the floor was opened to anyone who had something to share with the group. Our Yogi Babe started the ball rolling, expressing how honored she was to have been destined for Yoga for Life. My BFF followed, a bit emotional at that. Then our Yogi Bear. Then BFF’s kid. Then BFF’s future boyfie… it just went on and on and on. It seemed like so many people had something to say.

Quite remarkable was how most of those who spoke were the positives, telling their stories and how our little community had factored into their lives, actually getting to the point of disclosing their status to the group. Significant, as for some, it was the first time they were to disclose in front of a crowd. At Yoga for Life, there’s an unspoken don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy when it comes to status, aside from the fact that you really couldn’t guess who was positive and who was not just by looking at us as a group. Test us all, why don’t you…

Anyway, the stories varied. Some thankful. Some emotional. Some just poured their hearts out. One of them talked about feeling the ripples of disclosing to a parent, and how heartbroken he was about being judged for his condition by the very person from whose womb he came.

I admit, it wasn’t easy to listen to a sad story as that. And I would’ve had much to say, talking from my own experiences and drawing on what analysis I could make, if only I had the guts to speak up. But then I’m not exactly the expert on disclosing to parents, am I? Hehehe. Oh well, maybe what insight I can share with him someday might help somehow. Someday, someday.

I, of course, didn’t volunteer to speak. But alas. I was volunteered. Argh. It was a conspiracy against me. Darn, even Yogi Babe has now figured out how I looooove (urk) being put on the spot. So aloof and anti-social as I am, I dug deep trying to weave my thoughts together impromptu.

Of course, I still don’t have a sob story. But as I looked around realizing that I probably was the one person in the group that evening that had been living with HIV the longest, maybe I did have some thoughts to impart. Don’t ask me what those thoughts were exactly, because again, I was speaking half-conscious, half-unconscious, half-subconscious, and half-self-conscious. Dami, ‘di ba?

I remember pointing out how life must go on for all of us. I remember saying HIV is not a punishment, but rather a challenge and an opportunity to care for one’s self and others more, and make changes for the better. I remember mentioning my HIV tagline, about how H.I.V. for me is a whole different acronym… Happy In spite of the Virus. I was staring into the candles for most of that time, so I’m not sure if I made sense, if at all. But hopefully I did.

At the end of it all, I was glad I wasn’t glued to the television this year. Yoga for Life has proven itself to be a real community, and being with the Yoga for Life community turned out to be the best way to celebrate World AIDS Day.

Yes, I dare to use the word “celebrate”. Because gone are the days of World AIDS Day being a commemoration of the lives that had been lost to AIDS. Rather, we should be celebrating. Celebrating life going on in spite of the virus. Celebrating hope that humanity will not be beaten by a measly virus. Celebrating faith that there is purpose to be found in everything. Celebrating reassurance that every one of us, positive or negative, is and has been blessed.

Happy World AIDS Day!

A Good Night

2010-11-22T14:00:00.001+08:00

Last night. Saturday night. I got a birthday invite. Not just from one, but two people. A joint birthday bash. Two people I knew, and hadn’t seen for a while. This was the chance to. The perfect excuse to finally show up at a pusit party. Should I, or should I not? How sure am I that this is going to prove to be a good night? I’m not. But...

I don’t usually like going to pusit gatherings like these, mostly because of the possibility of seeing some... uhm... nega-monsters.

Nega-monsters. My term for a few pusits who are just swimming in so much bitterness that they’re just out to nitpick at everyone who crosses their paths - devoid of any wit, sense or reason - as though they’re perfect and actually have a hand in the lives of everyone else. Nega-monsters. Ironic how someone who is “positive” can be so negative. Ugh.

Of course, there’s a lot to nitpick about me, but then I never claimed to be perfect. But then again, it’s my life, right? And these nega-monsters have been out to get me and some of my friends. Not our fault, they just don’t have lives of their own. And I choose my battles, and these nega-monsters have never been worth one.

With that, I choose to avoid any possibility of encountering these negativities, not participating in some of these gatherings at the risk of appearing elitist, snooty and anti-social. I’m just not the type to care if others think that way.

So with this opportunity to celebrate another year for two friends, and the assurance that nega-monsters weren’t invited, I seriously considered and reconsidered going.

Saturday night, I found myself on the way up north, with BFF and O. After around two hours on the road, we got there, almost exactly on call time, but still early as just the second group to arrive. The celebrants were there already plus a couple of familiar faces. And as the rest of the group showed up, sans the fact of being an hour or so late, it struck me that that night was going to be a good night.

Primarily, there were no nega-monsters. That in itself was reason to party. Other than that, Ate showed up with some other staff of the RITM. Perfect. I always thought having authority figures at times like these will mean that things will be kept in check. Of the 30 or so people there, I only hadn’t been acquainted with less than a handful maybe. For me, that means a bit of a comfort zone.

A group of pusits who prefer not to call themselves pusits was there, but in all fairness they were the ones I didn’t have problems with... not so much at least. Mr. Mouth was there, flaunting his gift of gab as usual, but thankfully this time, not anywhere in my direction, so he was okay. Not a problem.

Another set of people, I knew from the empowerment seminar I attended several months ago. A majority of our batch was there actually. Some sort of a mini-reunion after months of not seeing most of them.

But really, the biggest surprise was the little pozzie posse I fell into since about a year ago. Roll call?

There were four of my “kids”; the first ever person I brought to RITM, LittleJenny, and RedAppleBlackMark, and my adopted kid Positive'sStory. There was one of E’s “kids”, who I surrogated and who just happened to currently be LittleJenny’s beau, making him an in-law. Some friends LuckyTrese, O, and BruceKho. Papi was there, as well as one of his “kids”, who just happened to be LuckyTrese’s ahem-ahem. And my friendly neighborhood BFF, GreenFrog, of course. I was missing a couple of people though, W and E. And maybe my “dad”, U, who technically is part of the family.

But twelve of us there made it one hell of a reunion. A reunion because it’s been a while since I last saw some of them. The only ones I would regularly are those who attend Yoga for Life. Other than that, being busy with each one’s lives has been keeping us apart. And quite frankly, I’m sort of happy that we didn’t see each other a lot.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not about me not wanting to see them. I’m happy because that just means everyone’s busy with their lives. Busy being productive. Busy with their own families. Busy with their personal lives maybe. Just basically being busy going on with life, sans the HIV-positive part. Busy proving that life goes on. Perfect.

But despite this apparent retreat from the posse, we still know we’re all just around, and we still love seeing each other every time we do. Sort of like we move in our own little circles but still gravitate towards each other somehow, like the planets to the sun. The bond remains, if not gets stronger. Absence, fonder.

Also funny that night, I realized that most of the posse I haven’t even known for a full year. But I’m pretty sure there’ll be more years to come. I don’t believe that it’s the HIV that’s keeping us together. It’s more like HIV brought us together, but it’s something else that’s keeping us tight. Jiving personalities maybe. The overall good vibe. Whatever it is, heaven knows.

And so with that, that night was indeed a good night. Even if I had to leave my little bastard at home. Even if I made the boyfie sad at the fact that I chose my friends over him for that night... he was extremely understanding but I’ll make it up to him. Even if I’m still reeling from lack of sleep right now. Even if there was that one parlor game that led to a hair-raising and spine-tingling mishap... not my mishap, but my hair raising and spine tingling. Even if, even if, even if... Last night truly, truly was a good night.

Propping Up Positivism

2010-11-12T09:15:00.003+08:00

I received notice from a fellow Yoga for Lifer and advocate about a meeting for which Positivism needed to be represented. Typically, it would be my boss who would be the rightful representative. But as he was overseas on vacation at the time, there seemed to be no other choice. I had no other choice but to go.

So I remember, it was a Tuesday. I took the afternoon off from work to attend the meeting. Call time was actually at 11:00 am, but I asked if I could drop in by 2:00 pm. I planned on leaving work at lunchtime, and just needed time to get to Quezon City where the meeting had been set. Luckily, they allowed my tardiness. Otherwise, I would’ve had to pass on the meeting.

I was quite nervous. I knew Positivism isn’t exactly an institution in the established HIV advocacy realm just yet. So in as much as I was told that I was there just to observe, I was expecting that I would need to give at least a backgrounder on Positivism. Yikes. It’s me again faced with public speaking. Good luck to me. But I did what I could to prepare for that possibility.

Getting there about half an hour earlier than my foreseen tardiness, I walked in and signed the attendance sheet by the door. I was pleased to see a familiar name on the list, and scanned the room to search for the face that went with it. I saw a hand wave me over, as our Yoga for Life yogi babe offered me the seat beside her. Whew… big relief to have her there.

The meeting was actually vision meeting among advocates in Metro Manila. A joint project of USAID (United States Agency for International Development), UNDP (United Nations Development Programme), UNAIDS (Joint United Nations Programme on HIV and AIDS), FHI (Family Health International), and APCOM (Asia Pacific Coalition on Male Sexual Health), it brought together representatives of groups and projects in Metro Manila working against HIV among MSMs, or men who have sex with men.

Manila was just one of six Asian cities being surveyed, a “City Scan” as they called it, for innovative and scalable responses against HIV among MSMs. The other 5 cities include Bangkok in Thailand, Chengdu in China, Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam, Rangoon in Burma and Jakarta in Indonesia. They would be doing their own “City Scans”.

In that room that afternoon, I was in formidable company. There were representatives from the National AIDS and STI Prevention and Control Program (NASPCP) of the Department of Health (DOH), Philippine National AIDS Council (PNAC), the AIDS Society of the Philippines (ASP), Health Action Information Network (HAIN), TLF Sexuality, Health and Rights Educators Collective (TLF Share), Action for Health Initiatives (ACHIEVE), The Rainbow Rights Project, Metropolitan Community Church Quezon City (MCCQC) and Pinoy Plus or PAFPI - sorry, I confuse the two - and some other groups.

A number of groups were given time to discuss efforts they had in support of the HIV advocacy.

ASP discussed their proposed online campaign of HIV awareness among MSMs backed by financial support from the Global Fund. They would get chatting with people on some of the gay hookup sites based on certain keywords on their profile, which included BB or bareback, PNP or party-n-play, and orgy or group sex. I giggled on the side wondering if they’d chance upon my own profiles on those sites. Boy, would they be surprised at how aware I am about HIV.

ACHIEVE had a campaign bringing together the Philippine National Police, the Quezon City STD/AIDS Council, and SAMACKA, which was a union of spas, massage parlors, clubs and KTV bars. Through this collaboration, they were to encourage the at-risk group of sex workers to practice safer sex and observe better health protocols, hinged on Quezon City‘s ordinance 1053 on sexual health response. Now this one was cool.

MCCQC and Rainbow Rights Project were two groups I don’t think I’d ever heard of before. MCCQC is apparently a religious group, while Rainbow Rights Project is a sort of law firm of sorts, both of which support the LGBT sector. It was good to know that there was such a thing.

Before moving on to the next part of the agenda, as expected, they gave a little bit of time for Positivism to introduce itself. Yikes. So I gave what I had, assisted by the internet access they had at the venue. Now I need to point out again that Positivism is not a presence in that circle of advocacy just yet. So unexpectedly, but thankfully, the idea of Positivism was taken in by the group with no negativity. No concerns, no violent reactions. Whew.

So at this point, I was still in shock to be in the midst of the group. And for Positivism, Yoga for Life, and Take the Test - three efforts that I was lucky enough to be a part of - to be considered among the innovative responses against HIV, was phenomenal.

So it came time for them to move on to putting together a contingent of advocates who would be sent to the big event in Hong Kong - the coming together of all the scans of innovative practices in the six cities represented in the study.

The Philippine contingent would have 9 slots available. Representatives from government were to be given three slots, representing NASPCP, QCSAC and PNAC. The rest would be split among the five identified fields of attack. “Strategic Information” would be represented by HAIN, “supportive interventions” by TLF Share, “Enabling Environments” by ACHIEVE, “Treatment, Care and Support” by the positive community, either Pinoy Plus or PAFPI, and “Prevention” by ASP.

Hmmm, that left one slot. I felt safe, since Positivism wasn’t represented or barely heard of in the group until that day, which was the last meeting. Plus Positivism isn’t exactly an effort targeted specifically towards MSMs. But of course, things don’t ever go as expected.

Positivism got in. They chose to give us another slot under the “Prevention” cluster, partially in consideration that it was an effort spearheaded by someone from the private sector. I was in disbelief. Too bad my yogi babe was no longer there to slap me silly that it was really happening.

Within the week, I needed to meet up again with the Philippine consultant of the program to give him everything he needed to know about Positivism so he could put us into his report. Again, I was the default since my boss was still out of town. That was again another moment of awkward speaking for me, which was thankfully helped out by a relaxed atmosphere in a casual venue.

It was a long, but less structured interview. But for me it was really an impromptu thing. It was good to hear feedback too from the consultant about Positivism. He found it remarkable how we are able to work without funding, relying only on collaborations in terms of efforts and services we would need. And hearing how existing advocacies could benefit from the tone Positivism takes in its messages and information was huge.

And in the weeks that followed, we then needed to figure out who would represent Positivism in Hong Kong. My boss was considering shouldering his own expenses just so we’d both be there. Actually, it would really just be either him or me.

But things can and will go wrong. Upon checking, I realized my passport needed renewal. I tried getting an appointment with the DFA for that, but the earliest slot available would fall on the exact week of the Hong Kong event. Funny, huh? Oi. Either fortunately or unfortunately, my boss would have to go to Hong Kong for Positivism. It’s fine with me. But it would’ve really been a great opportunity, too.

So there. Baby steps and all, Positivism now officially has its foot in the HIV advocacy door. Not that we’d stop doing what we do otherwise, but still way cool. The perfect way to wrap up another year of Positivism.

The Blame Game

2010-10-29T09:30:00.000+08:00

Yoga for Life has been going on for nearly five months already. Every so often, our Yogi Bear and Babe make it a point to survey how the participants feel, both physically and mentally, so in the future an analysis could be done to produce concrete data on how yoga has benefited the participants. Along with that, they ask for feedback. Now while most of the feedback is positive, there has been negative feedback as well. One in particular, that piqued my... uhm... fancy.

During the celebration of one of the monthsaries, amid all the fun and laughter before the yoga practice, someone spoke up. After congratulating the community on the success of the program, this person pointed out that he did have one piece of negative feedback to give. I was a bit surprised actually... and curious. Everyone listened intently.

Apparently, one of his friends - someone HIV-positive - met someone else at one of the Yoga for Life sessions. And apparently they got it on. They had sex. They had unprotected sex. And what made it worse was that the person he had sex with was among the HIV-negatives who were there supporting the community. Oh boy, indeed.

As much as I wanted to speak out - biased as I would be towards Yoga for Life, yes I would defend the program to the death - I didn’t want to be a proponent to any outburst. I kept my mouth shut, but my mind was ranting throughout the yoga session. Relax, surrender and let go? My ass.

Really, the point I wanted to make was... What was the point exactly?!

It just wasn’t clear to me how that was supposed to be feedback on the Yoga for Life program. So they had sex. Fine. But unless they did it at the venue, on their yoga mats, in the middle of a yoga session, then what’s the deal? Is the Yoga for Life team expected to keep an eye on each and everyone each and every minute even outside the confines of the yoga session? It may just me, but I think not.

So certainly, the issue could have been brought up before our Yogi Bear and Babe and maybe the rest of the core group. But to have to subject even first time attendees to something like that was unthinkable... not to mention inconsiderate.

And the way it was made to seem like negative feedback on the program was outrageous. If someone had felt they’d been fouled, would it not have made more sense for that person to speak for himself? But no. A spokesperson ranted on his behalf. So to me, whether it was indeed meant to be negative feedback on the program from the person directly involved was still questionable.

Okay let me make it clear. It’s not that I don’t care that someone was put at risk. But HIV is not and should never be a blame game. But if you want it that way, let’s play.

So HIV-positive got acquainted with HIV negative. Now really, should Yoga for Life have prevented that?

So HIV-positive and HIV-negative got it on and got carried away. That’s their right. But that’s their responsibility as well.

So maybe HIV-negative assumed they were both negative. Never, ever assume. Blame awareness and education, or the lack thereof.

So maybe HIV-positive assumed they were both positive. Still, protection is for everyone, even HIV-positives. And not just to protect their partners. Did HIV-positive forget about superinfection? Did he forget about other sexually transmitted infections? Who’s to blame for that?

So on that note, if HIV-positive really meant to blame Yoga for Life for what happened, on what basis?

As someone who already was and already knew he was HIV-positive, it can be expected that he would know all about HIV. So for me, if there’s anyone to blame, it would be whoever it was who gave this guy HIV counseling, whether it’s his doctor, his nurse, or his peer counselor. He obviously didn’t learn much if he actually thought he could play victim and blame a yoga program for his misfortune.

Actually, from the beginning, I questioned whether this was actually a rant from HIV-positive, or just his spokesperson telling a story adding his own ranting tone and feel. And recently, I confirmed what it was.

I initially didn’t know who HIV-positive was. Until, during a recent yoga session, I unexpectedly happened to hear something. It was a guy, telling his yoga friend, about how he hooked up with someone at yoga after he tested positive, and how that person thankfully still turned out negative after being tested after the hook up. I thought to myself, “So, it was you.”

It was interesting how the guy told his story. A bit cocky, without a tinge of remorse. Sort of proud, even. Hello, he told it loud enough for me to hear, right? Wisely, his yoga friend pointed out how there was still that little complication of the window period and how he shouldn‘t rest on his laurels just yet. That was the last I heard.

Clearly, it seemed HIV-positive didn’t get the full impact of what happened. And as much as I wanted to pull him aside and slap some sense into him, it would be counterproductive to subject him to public humiliation. And I’m sure if I took him on in a blame game, he would’ve lost.

I’m still tempted to pull him aside one of these days and engage him in a bit of counseling. But it will have to be done discreetly, as I have no plans of intimidating him, scaring him, or shaming him into oblivion.

My point will simply be... enough with the blame game. Take responsibility for your actions. Sex is a personal thing. So don’t even attempt to have a spokesperson speak up for you.

And a spokesperson too should know his limits. Stop spoon feeding. If someone is old enough to produce sperm, then he should be old enough to take responsibility, too. He’s too old to be playing the blame game. And neither should you take on playing the blame game for him.

This is a lesson that applies to everyone. Take responsibility. It applies even to safe sex. Take responsibility for yourself. Protect yourself. It’s your right. It’s your responsibility.

Money Matters

2010-10-16T08:30:00.000+08:00

I’ve been feeling a financial crunch lately - on a personal level, that is. Right now, I have less than PhP 200.00 in my wallet. That’s pretty decent on a regular day. But it’s a weekend. And even before the gimmick worthy night creeps in, I’m already concerned. We usually have lunch out at work every Friday. So I’ve been forced to feign a diet and watch what I eat. Not for the calories, but for the pesos I’ll be spending.

Oi. Money. They say it makes the world go ‘round. If there’s any truth to that, then my world is coming to a screeching halt.

Okay fine, I’m not really that broke. It’s just that for my last few paydays, I seem to have racked up a good amount of expenses. Let’s do some accounting.

Naturally, daily expenses are there. Commutes to and from work, meals and other incidentals at work are staples. If only I could stop at staples. There are the monthly bills to pay, of course. But wait, there’s more!

The first spend that I remember is also the most remarkable. Christmas. I’m not excited, but a sale makes it too easy. This early, I’ve bought Christmas gifts for both my mom and myself. Remarkable, I say, because buying an LCD television for each of us isn’t a joke. One of the rare times I’ve allowed myself to eat into my savings. I rationalize it with the sale price, the savings on electricity I stand to gain, and the look of disbelief on my mom’s face when her least successful child offers to pay for a little bit of luxury. Hehehe.

And then there are all those tests I needed to pay for when I last paid RITM a visit for my CD4 count. Over PhP 2,000.00 worth, and I’m not even done yet. They say I need to go back for a repeat of my RPR to check if my syphilis is indeed still active. Argh. Another thousand there.Recently, I offered to shoulder medications for someone confined at the RITM. Considering it wasn’t anyone I knew, I really didn’t need to help. But the way Ate pulled me aside and told me how this person’s mother would choose walk to and from the drugstore every day just to save on fare, my heartstrings were pulled. With an unexpectedly small amount, I was able to cover her needs for a month. At least, her mom can lay off the walkathon for a month.

My exercise regimen is something I’ve added. There’s Yoga for Life. Of course, the sessions are really free, but any donations are used to shoulder the cost of the venue. Indigent students aren’t expected to donate if they can’t. But then, HELLO! I’ve got my pride. I am NOT indigent. So I give what I can to shoulder my share. Take that! Oh, and I have been in the process of putting together some way to work out at home. I have my yoga mat, a bench, and my first installment of dumbbells. Slowly but surely, so the costs come slowly as well. Hehe.

My little Bastard is another factor. It’s like having a kid. I get carried away shopping for stuff for him. A cage, food, toiletries, pee & poop pads, leashes & collars, a little carry bag, and lots of toys. And it’s depressing when he foregoes his toys to play with the plastic bag. Argh.

And as my first official dog, I’ve made it a point to get friendly with a vet for him. All the consultations, vitamins and shots really rack up as well. Good thing he got his last set of shots last week. Whew. He’s good till next year, we just gotta keep him healthy. It’s bad enough that I wasn’t careful enough to keep my own doctor away, so I’m bringing him up the right way now. Yep, even in the canine world, prevention is better than the cure.

And then of course, we cannot forget this little relationship that I’m in. I don’t know if I speak for anyone else, but dating can be expensive. Especially for me, since I’m coupled with someone who won’t let a week pass without seeing me at least twice. The dinners and movies are fun, but then he’s not the eat-just-anywhere type. He needs restaurants with decent food and excellent service, which means no Burger Machines and Aling Nena‘s Carinderias. But neither am I the freeloading type. I pay for my fair share of the tab. Yep, that’s proud little me.

So there. I’m maxed out. Well I’m not exactly broke. It’s my miserly fault too for doing everything in my power not to touch what I already have in savings.

So at this point, I need to beg. From you. From anyone out there. Not for myself, but for my beneficiary at the RITM I mentioned earlier. She’s confined right now, and is on medication for six months. A cocktail of medicines for some sort of respiratory infection, I think. Based on the per piece prices I got at the Generics Pharmacy, here’s the damage:
~ Rifampicin, 450 mg - PhP 8.25
~ Isoniazid, 300 mg - PhP 1.30
~ Ethambutol, 2 x 200 mg - PhP 4.20 each
~ PZA or P2A, 500 mg - PhP 3.50

Sorry, I’m just reading off the prescription Ate wrote out for me. So this is her daily regimen, which racks up to just a bit over PhP 20.00 a day. Not bad for us who are financially able. Compare that to some of our daily luxuries, right? But the reality of things is that one trip through Starbucks can already mean about a week of life to some who really need it.

So with that, I’d like to once again extend my plea to those of you who’d like to help. Please, please, please? Don’t hesitate to get in touch with me if you already know my contact, or via e-mail, pinoycumeater@yahoo.com.

For now, I remain budget conscious myself, and will draw upon the easy-to-please side of me. But I’ll be trying to do what I can as well. Thank heavens it was payday yesterday. Because money or not, the world will - and should - continue to go ‘round.

The Verdict

2010-10-04T10:40:00.001+08:00

It’s that time of year again. It’s been a long awaited day.

Long due, and long overdue even.

I‘m kinda excited, yes. But with a tinge of anxiety maybe.

It's time. It's time. It’s time to go and get my CD4 count.

I need to have my CD4 count done twice a year, every six months. Supposedly, my schedule is to have it done every February and August. I had been coordinating with a number of people who wanted to tag along with me. There was my calf-caressing friend, who was also due for his CD4 count, and there were two newbies who needed to go to RITM. One needed to get his confirmatory test, while the other already had his confirmatory result with him and was meaning to start his own HIV journey.

If you recall, I got a med refill just in the third week of August. I could have, but purposely didn’t get my CD4 count done that same day just because of the plan we put together. At first, we planned to go on the last Friday of August. Fortunately, I was able to text Ate a couple of days before to advise that I was planning to go. Unfortunately, Ate informed me that they were having problems with the CD4 machine. So I had to call the plan off.

It was a bummer because coordinating four different schedules wasn’t an easy task and at this point all went to waste. Even worse? On the day itself intended to go, Ate texted me that they were able to have the machine fixed. But the advise came only in the afternoon. Too late for the 10:00 am cut off for CD4 batching. Too late as well to even try to salvage our little plan. Argh.

Our little group fell apart. My calf-caressing friend had gone to get his CD4 count alone before I could put together a new plan. One of my newbies couldn’t take a leave from work anytime soon to make the trip. And then there were two. My newbie and I came up with another plan to go September 23rd, a Thursday. We had already both filed our respective leaves from work, and so it was set.

I arrived at the meeting place exactly as planned, 7:00 am at the Ayala MRT station. I was texting constantly with my newbie, and unfortunately, he was running late. It was fine. I sat amidst all the other tambays and waited patiently. In about half an hour, he arrived. Apparently, he had opted to take a cab and got stuck in traffic. Not so bad, there was time to spare, anyway.

So we hopped on a bus to Alabang, as I made sure to point out some landmarks to give him an idea of the route we were taking. We got talking about different things, but nothing too cerebral or serious, as we were both nutritionally challenged and possibly mentally slow, as we had both been fasting wince the evening before in preparation for our blood tests.

We got to RITM past 8:00. We went straight to the clinic. Ate wasn’t there, but our two other nurses were. My purpose there, to get all my tests done, was simple enough. Routine even. But for my newbie, we were really trying to get everything he needed done within the day because it wasn’t easy for him to take leaves from work.

Based on experience, they would have newbies talk with the doctor first, and schedule tests another day. My newbie didn’t have that luxury of time. So I had asked Ate prior to our even planning to go if it would be possible to get everything done in one day. Fortunately, they were willing to give it a shot, with the condition that we show up early, before the cut-off time for the CD4s, and be ready for all the tests, fasting and all.

He sat patiently while waiting for the doctor, while one of our nurses put together all the requests for my blood tests. Apparently, sonce it was the anniversary of my pozzie-ness, a lot of tests would be done in addition to the usual CD4 count, CBC and blood chemistry, especially since my HIV infection came with some “friends“.

First, I needed to get my Hepatitis profile done, apparently to check if my Hepatitis B was still active… although I thought once you had it it’d forever be active. I needed to get a Quantitative RPR done too, to check how my Syphilis infection is doing, or the lack thereof. There were a couple of more tests I needed to pay for. All in all, it totaled to over PhP 2,000.00. Argh. A bit steep, but it was needed and I was prepared.

So took my route through the cashier, to the x-ray section, and onto the lab to have my blood extracted. When my turn came, I tried to make it a good experience, for myself and for everyone. Despite the many times that I’ve had my blood extracted in the past, I’m still not overly excited to have it done. I gave the stack of requests to the med tech on duty, and braced myself.

I joked that my lot of blood tests would seem to correspondingly require a lot of blood. She said it’d take around four vials. Not so bad. So she got going. I turned my head away from the prick as I still get queasy seeing blood flowing. In all fairness, I was able to keep a smile on my face the whole time. It was a mix of thinking positive and feigning courage.

When I was done, I went back to my newbie at the clinic. I passed him at the cashier. Good thing a doctor was on duty that early in the morning. He had already talked with the doctor, and now needed to pay for some of his tests as well. He was actually a bit short in funds, so I lent him some cash. Fortunate that I had enough to be able to. From there, we went to the lab.

Apparently, he was just as bad with needles and blood as I was. Hehehe. I understood completely. I assured him that the med tech on duty was good at what she does. He made it through without problems. Just a bit of stress, that’s all. His x-ray was much easier, of course.

Making it back to the clinic, I got a surprise. They had forgotten one final lab request, one for Hepatitis C. Another prick?! I headed back to the lab. I requested that they allow me to rest a bit before another prick, so they entertained other clients first. The next time they asked if I was ready, I took my seat once again in the pricking chair, ready for another one in the other arm.

I was ready and game, I really was. Fortunately, they said the blood they’d extracted earlier was still enough for the extra test. Though I sighed a sigh of relief, I kidded with the med tech that she missed the chance, considering I was extra generous with blood today. She laughed and retorted the next prick would’ve been one in the jugular. Hehehe. That was fun.

From there, having accomplished everything we needed to do, we headed to Metropolis Star where we were to get a ride back north. We had lunch as well, after deciding we couldn’t last another minute without food. After a quick meal at Jollibee, we were off.

We both were able to nap a bit during the trip back, having been up since so early in the morning. We both got off when we hit Mandaluyong, he to get a ride home, and I to meet up with the hubby in Shangri-la. I accompanied him to have lunch, we had some of our favorite frozen yogurt, and caught a movie... creepy Devil of M. Night Shyamalan. Even though I spent most of the movie with my face buried in his armpit - yes, I’m not so good with horror movies - I’d recommend it.

Oh wait, wait... back to the pertinent issue of the moment. I texted Ate the day after, requesting her to “chismis” our CD4s if and when they became available. She replied promptly. My newbie had a whopping 553. Coolio!

Me? Let’s recap. A year ago, I was at 493. Six months ago, I dropped a bit to 447. And today... the verdict? Drumroll please... 493! Right back where I fell from. Not bad! Now whether I can attribute it to anything from ARVs and stress to love and yoga... only heaven knows. I’m happy. I still want to go past the 500 mark, though. But for now, I’ll take it!

Yoga Loca

2010-09-26T13:45:00.001+08:00

It’s been almost four months since Yoga for Life started. Personally, it’s become a habit. Seriously. As in I haven’t missed a class since July, if I‘m not mistaken... except that one Wednesday session they cancelled due to heavy rain. I super duper look forward to yoga every Wednesdays and Saturdays. I actually have a yoga mat of my own now at home... shhhhh! So am I officially yoga loca?

I am now a true believer that Yoga is an excellent form of exercise. It’s non-competitive, so anyone of any fitness level can get into it. The only person you’d need to challenge is yourself. It’s very physical, but it’s about the mind and the spirit as well, so much so, that a strong mind and a robust spirit can bring the body to do things it never before could.

And I think Yoga for Life is a notch above any other yoga. Really, the sense of community is there. From complete strangers, there has grown enough camaraderie within the group. And the liberty with which lines like, “What are you doing here today? Aren’t you a Saturday boy?” and giggles brought about by a solemn chant concierto get thrown around tell me the group is getting tighter.

But regardless of how regular the regulars have become, newbies show up every so often and get the full benefit still. Probably the fact that yoga is such a personal practice helps, in that the camaraderie isn’t as directly important to the practice as self-discipline and self-awareness are. It’d just be abonus. So the degree of fitting in shouldn’t necessarily help or hinder either way.

As part of the group behind Yoga for Life - them more than me - it’s not a heavy thing for us, and it’s still a lot of fun every time. Last Wednesday, while lazing around our yoga mats, we were happy to realize that it’s become stable, and attributed our first quarter of “success” to the fact that we’re working together well as a team and actually taking the work out of “working together”. Yes, that definitely helps. And the good vibes we carry stand a good chance of rubbing off onto the others.

Recently our Yogi Bear and Babe requested some feedback from the participants, both regulars and newbies. I actually was given a piece of paper to write my feedback, but being considered as part of the team behind it, decided otherwise. Me no buhat sariling bangko. But for the others, here’s what they had to say:

• “Yoga for Life has been and still is a life and attitude enhancing experience. It makes you feel part of a community.”

• “It was nice, relaxing and de-stressing. Time worth spent.”

• “There really isn’t much I can say. I am just glad that there is a venue for me to de-stress with the little time that I have. It would be nice though if there are more sessions during the week.”

• “Yoga for Life is a wonderful positive influence in my life. Thanks!”

• “Yoga has helped me to start thinking about the healthy lifestyle and actually start living it. It gave me more focus especially when a normal day turns into a stressful one. It is a very good way of detoxifying...”

• “I feel more relaxed. My headache gone after the session. I enjoyed this.”

• “Since I started yoga, I never had fever. I used to have low-grade fever daily. I never felt so lazy or lethargic since. I feel rejuvenated. It makes me feel whole.”

• “Yoga for Life as a program has been helpful in dealing with daily stress facing and living with HIV. It helps that the community is so normal, even in the reality of HIV. It’s very healing and positive.”

• “All my stress and all the hard thinking has vanished because of this yoga. Love it!”

• “For me, yoga is good for my health and I feel good after doing it. First time I attended this class I told myself that I love doing Yoga for Life.”

• “Relaxing, can ease tension. Looking forward to the next session.”

• “Enjoyed this more than I expected. Twice a week yoga is becoming something I look forward to and prioritize each week.”

Even I couldn’t believe all the good feedback. But considering we used a secret ballot method, then they could’ve well given what violent reactions they had as well. I therefore conclude, yoga is good, good, good.

And yoga has been picking up elsewhere as well. Who else is into yoga? The boyfriend... Wait, did I just say boyfriend?! Whoa... Fine. The boyfriend has started working out as well with a trainer, and yoga is part of his regimen. I’ve invited him to Yoga for Life, but we‘re still working out some details.

He’s been ranting about how much difficulty he’s been having at yoga, which he attributes to his fitness level. As you know, he’s built with a little bit extra as of the moment, which really shouldn’t be a problem. At Yoga for Life, we’re always given options that adjust to our respective fitness levels, so one of these days I’ll try to teach the boyfriend (naks talaga!) what I’ve been learning from our yogis. He’ll get a private session with me... with extra service maybe. Hehehe.

But for those I cannot give private lessons and extra service to - hehehe - the invitation to Yoga for Life is still open. On Wednesday evenings, it’s at 7:00 pm at the 28th floor conference room of the Medical Plaza Building on San Miguel Avenue in Ortigas. On Saturday afternoons, it’s at 2:00 pm at the Echo Yoga Studio in Century Plaza Building on Perea Street in Makati. See you there!

Also check out our Yogi Bear’s new program under the Echo Yoga roster, which aims to immerse liberated men into yoga. Every Thursdays and Saturdays, he leads men stripped from the usual workout outfits and down to their skivvies, into a deeper and more fabulous appreciation of yoga. Check out Yoga Loca at the Echo Yoga website for more details.

Owned

2010-09-19T13:00:00.006+08:00

Okay fine. I’m going to say it. I’m going to try to say it.

I dread having to admit it. But this being my journal, I can only say it because it’s the truth.

I’m... gulp... seeing someone.

Da bitch is owned.

He’s someone who found me online... yet again... on one of my personals sites. I held off on meeting up as long as I could, but he was persistent. I told him I was HIV positive. He still wanted to meet. I ran out of excuses.

We eyeballed at a local Starbucks, drove around a bit, and he brought me home. He snuck me into his house, got me comfortable, got me in bed, and got it on. This was last year. And that was that.

I couldn’t see him anymore because the time came when I was supposedly in a relationship. But that’s not to say that he wasn’t trying to see me. But I knew I couldn’t and I shouldn’t, so I didn‘t.

Of course, my relationship ended. This guy was still keeping in touch every so often. So June this year, he texted asking how I was and how my relationship was going, I decided. Fine I could see him again. No more reason not to.

So we’ve been going out since June. He immediately made clear that he couldn’t commit to anything just yet. That we could take it slow and just enjoy what we had. I honestly didn’t think I could commit either. I was at a point where I had come from committing myself to a relationship that turned out to be physically unsatisfying. So I was itching to just cruise the meat market, really. So taking it slow and just having fun was just perfect.

So yeah, we were dating regularly, once, sometimes twice a week, but not exclusively. I was dating other guys. I was sleeping around. I even had a bus buddy and a sex week, remember? What other things he was doing on his end, I didn’t really need to know. I didn’t ask. But he wanted to know what I was up to. I didn’t see any reason to keep him from finding out. And then it happened. He arranged for us to have a serious talk. Uh-oh.

To put it simply, he wasn’t happy. He was jealous. He was sad. He was disappointed. I could even say he was pissed. He was certainly reconsidering what we had. But what did we have? Technically, nothing. But introspect told me I wasn’t happy seeing that glum look on his face. So his sudden display of these emotions was, for me, a call to rethink where whatever we had was going.

So who is this guy? Well, he’s older than I am. Taller. Fairer. Built with a little bit extra, which is fine with me.

The bad news?

He’s a pessimist, putting himself down, especially when it comes to what we have. Lines like “Ayaw mo naman ako i-hug eh” after a perfect date piss me off, regardless of how little it’s meant. I just think it’s uncalled for, and there’s no right response to something like that.

Sexually, he’s more vanilla than I’d really like. But it’s something we can still work on and are still working on. No biggie.

He’s got a temper. He sometimes won’t let bad service at a store or a restaurant pass. He voices out getting pissed at rowdy kids at the mall. He barks at promo people who pester him. Believe me, even I have been on the receiving end of that temper already. Not the best way to start a date.

He’s paranoidly discreet. He takes a lot for him to give me a smack in his quite tinted car. He won’t hug me in public, not even in a bromantic way, and sometimes stops me from putting my arm around him. He’s even threatened to walk out if he hears any of my pozzie kids call me “mom”. Seriously?

The good news?

We have common interests. He’s an architect, and I’m a frustrated one. I match his educational and professional background in design with my fanaticism with the Lifestyle Channel. I sort of understand property development, have engineering somewhere in the back of my background, and know that ottoman pluralized is not ottomen.

He misses me. A lot. And very easily. Maybe too much. We’re still together and he already says he’s going to miss me. I know. Cheesy much.

He worships me. Not my most preferred role, but it’s good for a change. Still getting used to it. He knows everything about me, from my indecencies to my HIV, but still proudly declares something to the tune of “My boyfriend is a slut!” Oh, I’m fine with that. Not like it’s a far-fetched idea.

At this point, we’re still “together”. After that serious talk we had, we sort of honeymooned, spending a weekend in Tagaytay, albeit just sleeping in most of the time. We see each other at least weekly. He calls me his boyfriend. He uses the word “love” liberally. I admit I’ve used that L word as well. Gah! Cheesy! So not like me.

So there, that’s what’s been happening. I am owned. Or at least I’m letting myself be owned. Let’s see how things will go from here.

Bitch Finds a Bastard

2010-09-12T20:30:00.001+08:00

You already know that I’m the self-named, self-confessed, self-admitted B.I.T.C.H. I might just be the only person who has no problem being called a bitch. I’m the personification of the old Alma Moreno joke, who when called out, “Hey, BITCH!”, would reply with much annoyance, “Don’t you dare call me ‘Hey’!” So, as the Bitch, it is appropriate that I find my bastard. And I found my bastard.

He’s young. He’s short. He’s dark. He’s hairy. He loves to nibble. He’s jumpy and very excitable. He loves me unconditionally. He hates taking baths. He’s one hot dawg. Oh... what? I really was talking about a dog... as in he walks on all fours.

A colleague at work had puppies that she needed to give away... to anyone who was willing to give them a good home. Four puppies each needed a home. Easy a decision as it should’ve been, I had to think about it seriously.

I’ve always been a pet lover. I’ve had fish, turtles, fortune lobsters, cats, dogs and even a monkey. And my last pets, and I could say my favorite species, were rabbits. But it’s been 2 years since my last rabbit died. Almost perfectly timed with finding out I was HIV positive. I guess it gave me time to take care of myself first.

But it was time. I took a chance. Let’s give him a codename. Let’s call him mah little Bastard. Because he is... he is Bitch’s little Bastard. Just in case he’s in any way covered by R.A. 8504, let’s keep his real identity for him to disclose for himself.

And August 21st, the little Bastard came into my life. He was born June 10th, making him around two and a half months when I got him. He’s a mini-pinscher, with a little mix of shitzu. So in the question whether he’s a pure breed or not, he isn’t. But that don’t mean he ain’t the cutest.

He doesn’t exactly look like a mini-pinscher or a shitzu. People have said he looks like a Yorkshire terrier. He actually reminds me of Tintin’s dog, Snowy, just tinier and in a different color. He’s black, with brown bits on his legs, his snout and his eyebrows. He’s not exactly classy looking. I would actually use the word “scrappy” to describe him. He really looks scrappy. But just right. I’m not classy myself. I’m scrappy, too.

So there. Officially, this is my first dog. My own dog. A dog who I’ll be bringing up, my own style.

So for the first time ever in my pet history, this dog stays inside the house and sleeps in my room. He ain’t gonna be eating bones and just leftovers either. But most importantly, health-wise, karir kung karir.

Well, it was partly a condition laid upon me by my colleague who gave me the little Bastard. But more importantly, I cannot overlook the fact that I am now immuno-compromised. So the little Bastard’s health can and will directly affect my own.

So, two weeks ago, I brought the little Bastard to the veterinarian, luckily just a couple of blocks from where I live. It wasn’t his first trip to the vet, as he’d began his shots even before he was given to me, but it was mine. He had a little booklet that was a record of the vaccines he’s gotten... funnily similar to the booklet I have for my ARVs.

The poor little thing got the second dose of his vaccines, which the doctor said was a 5-in-1 thing, all with a little whimper. It was a combination of vaccines for DHLP - short for Distemper, Hepatitis, Leptospirosis, and Parvovirus - plus Corona Virus, if I‘m not mistaken.

Interesting. I never knew dogs could get hepatitis. I’m sure it’s different from the hepatitis I have, but I could’ve truly said that I can sort of relate.

By next week, he’ll get his next shots, which the vet says will be a 6- or 7-in-1. I’m not exactly sure what six or seven those are. Also soon, he’ll get a follow-up for his deworming, and start on his rabies shots. I’ll probably have to get a rabies vaccine as well, just to make sure. I’ll ask RITM about it.

I really wasn’t sure how my mom would take the little Bastard. But thankfully, she’s fallen in love with him. She’s been able to whip out her grandmothering skills, probably seeing him as the first ever grandchild she’s been longing for. She loves feeding him, keeps him company during the day while I’m at work, telling me all about his antics while they’re home alone, and even going online to research on dog care. And mind you, my mom isn’t exactly all that techie, so that’s a real effort for her.

It’s really not hard to fall in love with the little Bastard. He lives by little bundles of energy, and is a sleepy, lazy pup in between... quite like myself. He’s also extremely perky and pesky, in an adorable way. And he’s extremely smart. It took just over a week to potty-train him, although he does still have the occasional accidents every once in a while. He also knows this early how to “sit” and “come”, and he has this funny way of putting his toys away by his little bed, which my mom says takes after my obsessive-compulsive side. Hehe.

I guess the worst part of it is that the little Bastard is really taking up my time. I can’t just stay out all the time knowing that he’s home waiting for me. And my mom is taking advantage of that fact as well, using him as a way of convincing me to come home early every time I have plans. Argh. But he’s not exactly cramping my style completely. I am still able to stay out late or go out on weekends, either for yoga or the occasional dates.

He’s not keeping me up late either. Mostly, he’s sleeping when I am. Or if he is awake, I don’t know what else he’s doing... he’s really quiet and doesn’t disturb my sleep. Though he is becoming my third alarm clock, as he now knows the morning routine. My cellphone rings, my wristwatch rings shortly after, and soon he starts licking whatever body part I have hanging off the bed, trying to wake me up to let him out of the room. Even on holidays. Hahaha.

So there, this is my little Bastard. Just over four months old, and barely a month under my care, the little Bastard right now has earned his special place in my heart. One other reason to try to stay healthy and live longer. Yes, this Bitch has found his Bastard.

Sex Week

2010-09-05T21:25:00.002+08:00

Sex-wise, I’ve been such a good boy. Not totally good, but relatively, I could’ve used a whole lot more. After my sexless Papi-stage, sex has been few and far between, and more vanilla than I’d prefer to be. A combination of choice and chance. I just wasn’t going all out just yet. There was an election day fuck, a feast of german sausage, and some mini servings of vanilla here and there. Ugh, I’ve been good. I’ve been too good. I’ve been good long enough.

I wanted sex. I didn’t need it. I wanted it. Enough goody-two-shoes.

I finally gave in to my accounts on some gay personals sites that were craving for attention. I wouldn’t want to give them too much time speculating about my absence, right?

So I took the initiative to plan out some sexy time. What? I’m single. I’m horny. So? Go!

Episode 0 (Yes, even before Episode 1...)
Monday. I was rushing home. I crossed the overpass. I made eye contact with someone going the opposite direction. I glanced back. He was looking. I continued walking, turning to look every so often. He was still looking. He stopped at the end of the overpass. I was at the opposite end making my way down. I could see his silhouette against the bright lights behind him. His arm was up. He was inconspicuously calling me over, pretending to be fixing his hair. Should I, or shouldn’t I?

Should I! I was particularly brave this day. I turned around and climbed back up the stairs to cross to meet him. He walked beside me. “Anong gusto mo?,” he asked. Confirmed. He just wanted to get off. He led me to his car, where he nervously tried to get it on. He had me explore different parts of his buff body with my tongue. And despite the hesitation every time someone would pass by, he came. It wasn’t much action, but it was a good quickie to start the week.

Episode 1
Still that same Monday. The first planned session of the week. A guy I met online was inviting me over to his place. So I made it home, had dinner, showered, and waited for the go signal. His roomies were gone. He sent me a text message calling me over. A tricycle ride, a short walk, and another tricycle ride... I was there.

This was my first eyeball in a while. I wasn’t as nervous as I usually am on eyeballs. Odd. Might be the age. My age. He was much younger. He led me in, and we sat and talked in the living room. Then he led me into the bedroom, where we did the deed… in his roommate’s bed. Yikes. In the end, we were spent. He thanked me. I thanked him. And a condom manufacturer thanked us both. I finally got the chance to bring my condom stash to life.

Episode 2
Fine, I rested a couple of days. The next session I had was set for Thursday. Someone I met online was inviting me over to his friend’s place after work. The rain and traffic that day were really challenging my determination. But it was set, and I didn’t want to back out at the last minute. So late and wet as I was, I made it to the meeting place. From there, he bought us some takeout for dinner, some drinks… and of course, rubbers and lube. And off we went to his friend’s place.

A long walk and a tricycle ride later, we were there. He keyed the door and… oh. Of course. It was naïve of me to think we’d have his friend’s place without his friend. So, I was going to have my first threesome since a while ago. I’m not new to it. I know what it takes to balance two cocks at one time. I just haven’t been able to practice lately. And it showed. I was a bit awkward admittedly, but at the end of the evening, I got them both off. Whew!

Episode 3
This particular one, I told you about already in The Bad Trip. It was the fortunate or unfortunate and unexpected falling into place of all elements of being in the right place at the right time, all for one hot and steamy encounter. But one of the biggest factors that allowed this to happen was actually another surge of braveness that evening. Hell, I hopped in a stranger’s car... doesn’t that say it all? I can’t exactly say I’m more confident, maybe just more daring...

And all this happened, while I was on my way to...

Episode 4
So there, fresh... or not so fresh... from an encounter with a stranger... yes, cum-breath and all... I headed off to meet up with the guy with whom I’ve been dating most regularly. Good thing he didn’t suspect anything. We’ll, it’s not like we’re a couple or anything just yet, so it should’ve been fine anyway. I just needed to work within my green mind to downplay the afterthoughts and the afterglow and concentrate on the task at hand.

Well, this particular one shouldn’t even be part of this list because, technically, I’d really consider this a date more than a sex session. That particular evening, we just hung out at his place... albeit half or totally naked... teased a bit, napped a bit, and basically enjoyed the time together in private... in a comfortable but non-orgasmic way. Anyway, this guy is a whole other story, so I’ll tell you more about him in his very own post probably.

Episode 5
Saturday, I had an eyeball. The guy didn’t even have a picture in his profile, but then again, that may have just intrigued me more. We planned to check into a motel and do the nasty. Our preferences were a perfect match. That was something I was looking forward to. I got pissed a bit with how hesitant and finicky he was with the actual meet up, with him worrying that I was “halata”. Saying, “I’m here. Meet me. If you don’t like what you see, then just tell me off,” did the job.

Me? Halata? Hello?! So we met. Him leading me to the motel may just have meant he did like what he saw. He wasn’t so bad himself. He was older than I was, but looked good. Er na er. And he lightened up once we started talking and getting comfortable in bed. So sans all the sordid details, after two spent condoms and getting him to cum three times, I can confidently say that he enjoyed every minute of the four hours we spent together. This was one perfect fuck. And he’s looking forward to more.

Episode 6
To cap off a whole week of steamy encounters, I unwittingly ended with a bang. Reviving some old buddies I used to jam with, a conspiracy ensued to have hot fun. Of the buddies I used to have, the guys I had less qualms about keeping in touch with were the “strictly safer sex” guys. My sensibility says I wouldn’t have to convince them to safer sex. While with the rest, they’d probably be wondering why I suddenly shifted to safer sex after years of doing it with them unprotected.

So with worries like that out of the way, five horny guys got together and had a whole lot of fun. Fetishes and kinks all the way. Oh, you’re still stuck at lucky number five? Well, a five-some isn’t even the maximum I’ve ever had, so you shouldn’t be surprised at all. In the end, all five of us had fun, the chemistry surprisingly still there despite not seeing each other for over a year. Close to perfect. But the perfect way to end the sex week.

So there. Seven sessions for a week. An average of one per day. From a regular date to old buddies to new eyeballs to total strangers. From an intimate one-on-one to an unexpected threesome to a full-fledged orgy. From total vanilla to going all the way to having the kinkiest of kinks. This was one hot, hot week that gave me the sex fix I wanted. And I’m left saying to myself, “HIV and all, I still got it.” Pak!

Bus Buddy

2010-08-31T21:35:00.002+08:00

An ordinary weekday morning. I hopped on a bus on my way to work, all seats were taken. I stood in the aisle. I took a seat that became available at the rearmost of the bus. I was followed by others who had just gotten on.

And then, of course, as buses are somehow the root of some worldly desires for me, it got weird.

A guy took one of the other seats in the six-man row I was in. My peripheral vision was teasing me. Was he looking at me? I’m oddly visually challenged. I’m far-sighted. So I can’t really scout out guys who are seated too near. Or I just don’t really want to seem too obvious. Hmm.

As people got off along the way, I was able to transfer to the two-seater just ahead. I still felt like I was being watched. It was just him left in the row behind me. He was oddly leaning forward foregoing comfort for something else. But a lady was seated across from me, which may have been stopping him from making a move. Or I was just being too presumptuous.

We had reached Shaw Boulevard, and I felt him gathering his things. He slid over to the aisle. I felt his hand on my headrest. I heard a piece of paper. Then a couple of taps. I was intrigued but remained unobvious, both to him and the lady seated across. He got up and headed up front to get off. I tried looking out the window to see if he’d give one last glance, but didn’t spot him.

So what was that? Was he indeed trying to show interest? I remembered the sound of paper I heard. I ran my hand up the headrest and took a piece of paper slipped into it. It was a bus ticket. Today’s date, the fare, the origin and the destination. At the back, a name and mobile number was scribbled.

I had all the options in the world. I could have thrown it away. But then, of course, I’m a pleaser. I had a chance to make someone happy. How could I just ignore the guy? A guy who did not shove my face into his crotch on the first bus ride for a change? So yes… I sent a text message to the number.

And then the exchange began. He was relieved that I noticed the little message he left in the bus. Naman! I’m not that dense. With that, we became text mates. We’d text daily, at least mere good mornings or what not. This went on for a number of weeks. Maybe a month.

One Saturday morning, I was on my usual mall routine with my mom. At the hardware section, while looking at rechargeable lamps, my eyes caught a glimpse of someone. A guy. Tall, dark and neat, built with a little bit extra. We just stared at each other, short of saying “You look familiar,” “Where do I know you from,” and “Is that you?“ It was him. We didn’t talk or anything. We just texted.

At some point during that text conversations, I realized how ridiculous it was for us to be relying on chance to see one another. So I suggested that we plan out the next time we’d bump into each other. He agreed.

August crept in. And upon establishing the common point of our respective daily commutes, we agreed to meet and share rush hours. I arrived at the bus stop first, he came in a bit. Must’ve been funny seeing two grown men who couldn’t wipe the smiles off their faces.

We hailed a bus that would run our common route. We took seats beside each other. Sometime during the trip, he took my hand and held it the rest of the way, not even minding if other people would see. Cool. It was really nice having a hand to hold through traffic. There was a movie playing on the bus, too. Vic Sotto and Rosanna Roces. Basta Ikaw, Nanginginig Pa. Oy, is this a sign from the heavens? Not really. We were really without the kilig of it all because we were giggling at how ridiculous the movie was. He tapped my leg before getting off at his stop.

The next day, same thing. We rode together. Same bus line. No Pinoy movie this time, which we giggled about again. Again he had my hand firmly in his. Rush hour again. Traffic again. He got to his stop again, and tapped my leg. As he stood up he looked at me, sort of waiting for me to say something or wanting to say something himself. I’m sure I had a confused look on my face. He leaned in and gave me a smack on the lips. And then he turned and trudged to the front of the bus to get off, not even looking back.

Wait... what just happened? But no more confusion, I had a smirk on my face by this time.

I got a text message from him shortly.
“Ingatz”
“Ikaw rin. Hmp nanggugulat ka. Hahaha.”
“Hahaha… Nakuha ko ba sa bilis?”
“Oo. Kung Pinoy movie yun, dapat sasampalin pa kita. Hahaha.”
“Hehehe… Sige di na nga maulit.”
“Oo. Di na mauulit na magugulat ako.”
“Hahaha… So laging ready ka na?”
“O baka ikaw na magulat. Sige. Ingat ka ha.”

The next day, same thing. Without the movie. And without the smack. He didn’t even hold my hand. I felt he was teasing me. So I took initiative and grabbed his hand. Hmp, akala mo makakatakas ka ha. So there. We were officially bus buddies, and this was our daily routine. I felt like I had a date every single day. I did, sort of.

Okay, fine, we haven’t always been that patweetums. I think there’ve been three occasions that he holds my hand and leads it towards his crotch for me to feel his erection through his slacks. But that’s the farthest we’ve gone. Nope, he still hasn’t shoved my face into his pubes. But he’s managed to keep me curious as to what’s down there. Wholesome, but naughty.

As of this writing we’re still on it... our daily date. I think in almost a month, we’ve missed just three or four days, but I liked how the days we missed together aren’t a big deal. Because on days we were together, the least we’d be is just napping in the bus holding hands. Nice.

Basically, we're barely past being acquiantances. I don't know his surname. Not even his real name. I don't know what he does, nor does he know what I do. And no, I haven't told him the virally significant secret that I hide. Not like he'll catch anything by holding my hand.

So there, now you know my bus buddy. We’re not a couple. No commitment. No I-love-yous. Just something comfortable. And major-major safe. A huge ego boost, for me, at least. Nice. Really nice. And naughty too sometimes.

Isn’t life great? And aren’t buses too?

Booking on Facebook

2010-08-15T11:00:00.004+08:00

Facebook. I’ve only been on it for about a year maybe. And only got the hang of it for less than that. I blame it on my solitary nature.

My initial hesitation was that I’d become too accessible. I would be found by everyone, including those people I didn’t really want to be found by. But I guess I got over that in a bahala-na way, because before I knew it, I had added hundreds of friends, people from way back elementary days to the present. Hmm.

Facebook has also become a tool I use to promote Positivism. Positivism has its own Facebook page, and I’ve been taking the liberty of inviting people to “Like” the page. Would people be wondering why I’m promoting HIV awareness? I’d like to set a good example and say I couldn’t care less. So I’ve invited all my elementary, high school, and college friends to Positivism. Keber. If at least, it makes them think about HIV. If it makes them wonder what’s my tiff with HIV, well then that’s not my banana to split.

It’s not like only HIV positives have “Liked” the page. Over 200 of my own friends have liked it, all the way from former classmates and colleagues, to friends and buddies. I sort of lost all the qualms about being linked too definitively to HIV. As far as I’m concerned, I’m just promoting health and wellness. That’s all.

After I was done inviting the people I knew, I went after people I didn’t know. Of course I’d need to “Friend” them on my own Facebook account first before I’d be able to suggest Positivism to them. So I went out searching for people who I thought would need some HIV awareness.

How did I do that? Simple. I judge how sexual people are by their profile pictures. Hehe. Basically any profile picture that makes me say “Wow!” gets my attention and my add.

Too hot to handle... check!
Half-naked profile pics... check!
Chests without faces... check!
Abs without faces... check!
Crotches without faces... check!

Hehe, okay fine call me judgmental. But this is Facebook, after all. Not Guys4men. Not Chestbook. Not Absbook. Not Crotchbook. Right? So yes, lately, my Facebook page has been filled with chests, abs and crotches. Should I be concerned?

It isn’t all that easy, but I‘m ready to be judged. I’ve gotten the flak from some of my real friends as well. My favorite doctor-advocate has jibbed me with, “Hataw sa pag-add ng friends ah!” Fine, I admit... it looks like I'm just booking on Facebook. I tried explaining my logic. As to whether he believed me or not, heaven knows.

Another acquaintance has kidded me that maybe he should change his profile picture to a towel-clad or naked one as well, considering that I seem to have an affinity to that. Ha ha ha. It’s fine, really. Not that I have a reputation that would be tarnished or anything.

And finding my hot Facebook friends is becoming easier actually. Apparently, the tell-me-who-your-friends-are mantra is true. Chests, abs and crotches are friends with chests, abs and crotches. Eventually, people were finding me as well, people I most definitely didn’t know personally who were maybe piqued by the fact that I had such lewd friends. Hmm.

Again, why am I doing this? Well, I add my hot friends. And then I check out their pictures and drool a bit. And then I invite them to “Like” Positivism. As simple as that. But why again?

Well, I’m sort of challenged by the HIV Registry of the DOH. As of June 2010, a total of 5,233 Filipinos have been diagnosed with HIV. And I’m thinking that it should be easier to get people to click a “Like” button than getting them infected and diagnosed with HIV, right?

Not as easy as you’d think. I’m guessing it happens that some accept my suggestion and “Like” it, but upon realizing that it’s about HIV, then they retract and decide they don’t want to be connected to HIV and all. Hmm.

It’s actually funny. But it’s working somewhat. The fanbase of Positivism has been increasing anyway, albeit just one or two a day. We currently have a fan base of over 5,260. While the HIV registry is hot on our tail, at least there are still more Positivism advocates on Facebook than there are HIV-positives on the DOH registry, right?

For now, I hope my growing network means that the Positivism network is growing too, and that in turn I hope to mean that the number of people becoming aware of HIV is growing, too.

If you‘re not yet a fan, visit www.Positivism.ph, or search for Positivism on Facebook, or click here. You can also help by clicking the “Suggest to Friends” link below our profile pic on Facebook and sending it to your friends. Thanks!

The Bad Trip

2010-08-08T21:40:00.001+08:00

TGIF. Talagang Grabe Isang Friday.

I got asked out by one of the guys I’ve been regularly dating (yes, “one of”… so judge me) to hang out at his place. It was supposed to be that simple.

But noooooooooo. I’ll begin my little “bad” trip here.

I left the house, crossing the street, looking for a trike. I was being watched. A car was parked in front of our house, windows rolled down, the driver staring my way while drinking something from a bottle. I glanced left and right for that elusive trike, and gave him a second look. Yeah, he was staring. It seemed like he was nodding me over, but it was dark. I wasn’t sure. It seemed like he was whistling, but it was noisy. I wasn’t sure. A trike finally came to take me away.

Honestly, I needed to stop myself from looking back at the car. I heaved a little sigh of relief. But in the back of my head, I was thinking that he could certainly follow the trike I was in if he was really interested. He had a chance. And I wasn’t completely averse to giving him that chance.

As I stepped out of the trike, I stood at the corner, glancing back. Sure enough, the car pulled up shortly. He stopped at the corner, and again nodded me over. My mind went berserk. A quickie before a date? Hmmm.

My demons took control. I took a deep breath and walked over. No words. I opened the door and stepped in. He rolled up the windows and drove off. Small talk ensued.

“Dun ka nakatira?”
“Oo. Ikaw, tagarito ka rin?”
“Hinde, nag-basketball lang kami dun banda.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Anong trip mo?”
“Ikaw?”
“Gusto ko lang magpalabas eh. Gusto mo tsumupa?”
“Okay lang.”
“Kaso baka pawis pawis pa yan ha.”

Little did he know, I had no problem with it. I actually find sweaty, musky men hot. The deal was sealed.

“Ayos lang.”
“Sige, hawakan mo na.”

I slipped my hand into his shorts as he drove and pulled his dick out. It was stiff already. He grabbed my head and forced me down. A blowjob? While driving? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Talk about unsafe sex. I came back up for air as I felt him turn, parking in front of a row of closed shops. He turned the engine off and reclined his seat. He once again grabbed my head and pushed my face into his crotch repeatedly.

The next motion he made was a tap on my shoulder. I straightened up just before someone passed, almost peering into the untinted windows of the car. We decided to drive off and look for a more strategic place. In a dark, desolate area on a small street of residences, we reassumed the position.

I bobbed up and down his stiff member, his hand occasionally grabbing my head and shoving it down into his pubes. Soon, he was thrusting his hips, driving his shaft even deeper, if that was still possible. His breathing became heavier, his grunts got louder, and his cock swelled against the back of my throat. He pushed me down one last time as he pumped his thick, hot jizz into my mouth.

As I felt his hand easing up against the back of my head, I pulled off and licked him clean one last time. He had cum so far back into my throat, but whatever little I tasted wasn’t bad at all. I licked my lips and gulped the last of it down.

He pulled his shorts up, I wiped my lips against the back of my hand, and we drove off. A few minutes from our little love nest, he pulled over to drop me off. He thanked me and we said our goodbyes, not even exchanging names or numbers or anything. I thought, anyway, he knows where to find me. He had one last thing to say before I shut the car door...

“Malinis ka ah?” Hmm. Was he admiring the way I slurped him up?

“Malinis ka ah? Wala kang sakit?” Toink!

How would you have answered that?

a. “May HIV ako.” Wow, honest!
b. “Meron! Ktnxbye!” Pak! Honest but vague.
c. “Baka ikaw meron?” Wehhh, defensive.
d. “Kung kelan tapos na, tsaka ka magtatanong?” Taray, palaban.
e. “Nasarapan ka naman, diba?” Uyyyyy, avoiding the question.
f. “Tingin mo?” Ano ba, i-test ba?
g. “Wala naman masyado.” Ang saya, mental game.
h. “Wala ah!” Ayyyyy, deny.

So there. Argh, a bad trip for a bad boy. When I’m good, I’m very good. When I’m bad, I’m even better. Someone needs a spanking.

Yoga Gaga

2010-08-05T12:45:00.001+08:00

Yoga for Life has been going on for quite some time now, almost two months, if I’m not mistaken. During the first month, I was a regular of the Wednesday evening classes in Ortigas. And by the time the second month crept in, I found myself a regular of both Ortigas Wednesdays and Makati Saturdays. Yoga twice a week? And coming from a guy who has been brushing off any regular exercise routine because he was too tired and would rather rest? Yes, I surprise even myself.

And Yoga for Life is also growing into the point where you can sort of figure out who the real regulars are, and those who really aren’t or weren’t into it are falling on the wayside. Trust me, it’s a normal thing. Even I have needed to figure that out for my own self.

Of course, I did pass the stage of worrying, “Oh no, what if they think, ‘Sweaty-yoga-novice-boy is here again!’” So what? I don’t care. Hehe. Of course, that was just my paranoia. And even if it wasn’t, I was there for yoga, right? So thankfully, at this point, I’ve gotten over the initial anxiety of being new at yoga, and being new at any workout in general. I’m just past that excuse.

And also, for the past few yoga sessions, I’ve been consciously stopping myself from texting peeps prior to a session, “Let’s go yoga together later” or “You going to yoga today?” I don’t want to be at yoga just because I’m going to see someone, for example BFF, there. I mean, if he’s there, then great. If not, keri. And the opposite works as well, I don’t want to hear myself think, “I won’t go to yoga unless so and so is there.” I just think, “I want to go to yoga” and that should be enough reason.

I’ve also let go of pestering my peeps too much to attend yoga. While the invite is always open, I’m thinking, if they’re there, then cool, but if not, no biggie. I mean, for me, I don’t want them to be there just because I think they should. While there are many benefits to Yoga for Life, I can’t give anyone else a reason to be there. They gotta find the reason themselves.

Personally, I do yoga for me. I focus on the fact that I’m enjoying yoga and feeling good. And the precedents of two of our regular yoga buddies increasing their respective CD4 counts by more than 100 points each? A huge bonus if ever it happens to me.

So Saturday, I found myself on the way to Makati for yoga. I arrived to find only our yogi babe there. It was on the brink of becoming a one-on-one session when our Ortigas trio of yoga buddies arrived. So it was a tight group of regulars, which was taken advantage of with an extra intense session. Believe me, I soaked up two towels with sweat.

By the end, my legs were burning, and I was almost falling asleep from exhaustion during the meditation. But it was a good and refreshing hard sweat. And I was proud to have held up throughout most of it. And with that, it’s evident... I’m officially gaga over yoga.

But that is just a side story...

Segue to the previous weekend before last. If you recall, I had a family lunch before going to yoga. I needed to leave ahead of everyone, and I had made that a pre-announcement to my cousins earlier on. My girl cousins curiously asked where I was headed... whether it was work or just a gimmick. I nonchalantly said, “Neither... I have yoga.”

And then it hit me. Me and my big mouth.

They, of course, were interested in doing yoga. These cousins of mine were both ballerinas when they were younger, so they aren’t new to the flexibility thing. And they admitted they had tried yoga a few times before, but never carried it though. They were now seriously asking me about where I do yoga. I was caught off guard, so I had to spill the beans... just inches short of mentioning HIV.

I may have been sweating beads at that moment, bewildered as to how I could possibly cut the conversation short. Thankfully, they did it themselves, saying they’d like to join me for yoga sometime. Whew, I was safe... for now. Let’s prolong the agony, shall we?

So with that, a dark and anxious cloud looms over my yoga head. If and when they do join me for yoga, I’m probably going to have to tell them about the HIV link, am I not? That will surely fast track my coming out of the positive closet. And if I still want to tell my sister before anyone else in the family, that’ll zoom in even faster. Argh.

Don’t get me wrong. I would love to have my cousins come and share the yoga experience with me. But as to how I’ll get from being in the HIV closet, to having them with me at my complementary HIV therapy? Oi, heaven knows. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Hayyyyy... Yoga... it’s so gaga.

You’ve Got AIDS!

2010-07-27T17:40:00.002+08:00

You can only imagine how hard it is to be told "You have AIDS". I don't think you'll know how you would react just until it happens to you. I myself couldn't imagine it... at least until it happened. Well, sort of. I wasn't told that I had AIDS, just that I had HIV. I don’t know if that's a big diff, though.

But okay, that’s settled. It is hard to be on the receiving end of a positive result. But how hard is it to tell someone he or she’s got AIDS? Is it easier? Is it harder? Hmmm.

Personally, I’d rather be on the receiving end of tragic news. I just don’t think I’m nurturing or sane enough to handle someone else’s depression, drama, regret, fury, fear, paranoia, and whatever else they may have. Not on a regular basis at least.

So I applaud the people who get to do the loathsome job of telling someone, “Hey, you’ve got AIDS!”

Only heaven knows if there’s any particularly good or effective way to break that kind of news. But I got one idea from The Family Guy animated series to do it. Take a look.

Dr. Hartman: I don't know how to tell you this, Mr. Devanney, so I'll let these guys do it.

Enter, Peter Griffin and the Barbershop Quartet

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You have AIDS! (Yes, you have AIDS)
I hate to tell you, boy
that you have AIDS! (You got the AIDS)

You may have caught it
When you stuck that filthy needle in here
Or maybe all that unprotected sex put you here
It isn't clear...

But what we're certain of is...
You have AIDS! (Yes, you have AIDS)
Not HIV, but full-blown AIDS!

Be sure that you see...
That this is not HIV

But full-blown AIDS!
Not HIV, but really...
full-blown AIDS!

I'm sorry, I wish it was something less serious
But it's AIDS
You've got the AIDS!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Okay, fine, so maybe that wasn’t the best idea. But you gotta admit, it would’ve been one hell of a show! But for now, when it comes to telling someone he’s got AIDS... I’ll just leave that to the experts.

Post-Script:
On a more serious note, of course, these days, AIDS and HIV aren't that much different. Not everyone who's been put under the AIDS list is on his or her deathbed. They can always recover and do better than the HIV-and-not-AIDS ones, and sometimes be even healthier than people who don't even have HIV! Yep, life can go on... for everyone! :-)

Too Much

2010-07-23T17:20:00.000+08:00

Now, work is no question. I do need to make a living. So around half the hours of five days of every week is dedicated to work, inclusive of lunch breaks and daily commutes. That leaves 12 hours each from Mondays to Fridays, plus entire weekends to do everything else.

It may sound like enough time, but I’ve come to realize it’s not. Right now, I’ll be humble enough to say that I'm taking on... too much.

This entire week has been heavy. It started Sunday night, when I had to go out late to meet a pozzie friend. He was to hand over pasalubongs for BFF and myself, as he had gone abroad recently. It sounded simple enough. I left the house around 9:30 pm, unusual, because I’d usually already be in bed or at least in my room by that time.

But considering it wasn’t often that he was in the Metro, I gave the proposal a nod. We met at a little coffee shop, and he treated me to some coffee. And we went on, and on, and on. Before we knew it, it was almost midnight. The load of a busy weekend, the going past my bedtime, my Efavirenz, and thoughts of the coming Monday were heavily creeping in.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I seriously had a great time hanging out, dishing out the dirt, catching up, and getting cruised by the late night boys, but my body clock could not tick for much long. So he headed off, as I battled my way back home. Not even the boys in the dark who were checking me out could stop me, seriously. It was that bad. So with that, it was going to be a sleepy start to the week.

Monday. Work as usual. Usual, until I was reminded that one of my poz kiddos, ImNotDyingImLiving, was scheduled to leave the next day. So BFF and I got planning to at least take him out to dinner one last time before he left. It was going to be another long day. But I wasn’t going to let the last chance to see him pass.

BFF and I showed up at his place, where my favorite doctor-advocate showed up with our Yoga for Life yogi followed. It was a perfectly tight little group. We had dinner, after which we strolled around cruising the local hot boys. Hmm, I seem to be doing a lot of cruising lately. Must be the weather. And with that, sans any boohoo moments, we hugged ImNotDyingImLiving goodbye one last time and wished him care and luck on his trip. Sigh. One less pozzie in the Philippines? Sort of.

Hehe. BFF and I headed home together, to my place actually, so he could get his pasalubong. More catching up, plus a bit of cruising, and I took him out to the highway where he could catch a cab. A big hug, and I was off, home and into bed.

Okay, it was a Monday and I already owed two fractions-of-a-day’s worth of sleep. So Tuesday night, I made sure I slept early. Or earlier rather. Still only got seven hours of sleep.

Wednesday, of course, was Yoga for Life day. I was running late, literally running, so I was heaving to begin with. Add to that an extremely intense yoga session. Hell, almost every inch of my shirt was dripping wet. It was a good workout, but a real “work” out. Whew. Five of us had dinner after, which meant another late night out. I think I got home just before 11:00 pm, and with a cool down and a cold shower, I must’ve been asleep by midnight. Again, I got less than my forty winks.

Thursday, I made sure I went straight home. I was in bed by 10:00 pm. Ugh, my first complete 8 hours of sleep for the week. I swear, I was sleeping till the very last minute before my alarm woke me up. It was gooooooooood. But I could use more rest.

And throughout the week, tiring as it already was, the pending weekend was already haunting me. Saturday was to be saturated day. Running buddy was calling for an early run. Grocery with mom mid-morning. Yoga for Life in the afternoon. A foursome bloggers birthday bash of ToiletThoughts, OdinHood, WanderingCommuter and ClosetGeek in the evening. And another dinner invite to be one half of a pair of dates of my favorite doctor-advocate. Oh, and a last minute addition, a family lunch thing. Hoooooo-kay.

I could actually do everything. Really, I could. But geez, this was just not a good week to be dumped with so much. There is actually such a thing as too much. And this... this was just too much.

So I decided to let some things go. I begged off from running... I’d be too drained too early in the morning. Grocery can wait. The rest, I either want or need to do. The family lunch would be the last chance I’ll get to see my uncle and his family for a while. Of course, I want to Yoga for Life... I’m getting used to having it twice a week already.

The evening is surely booked. I want to do the birthday bash, because they’re all my friends, and it’s not often that ClosetGeek is in town. I want to do the dinner, too, because I’m sure I’ll get a hug there. Haha. Though I still have to figure out how I’ll be in both places at once. Geez!

So there. It was just too much. It ain’t the HIV. Not at all. It’s just me managing my priorities. It’s just me making sure of what exactly I can do, I want to do and I need to do. It’s just me being human. It’s just me knowing when to say it’s too much.

Trust

2010-07-18T21:30:00.001+08:00

Despite my early morning jog being called off last minute, I still had a full Saturday planned out. It was really a mishmash of stuff that got thrown into a 24-hour period, so I really wasn’t sure how it could all get sewn together into a sensible story.

But I can always try. Bear with me.

I needed to convince myself to do another morning run. I had all the excuses. I was lazy, I was sore, I’d be tired so early, I wanted to save energy for yoga, etcetera, etcetera. But fine, I’ll do it. Up at 4:30 am Saturday, I awoke to a text from running buddy calling the run off. I was neither happy, nor bummed. Deadma lang. So I had breakfast, and back to bed I went. Thus, I worked in 9 hours of sleep. Ah loved et!

Next on the menu was family bonding. Needed to go to the grocery with mom and run some errands. No biggie, nothing unusual. Was back home within just an hour. Had lunch, and had a few minutes of food coma, and then needed to get back on my feet and prepare to leave again. It was yoga time.

I couldn’t miss yoga. I had a Yoga for Life virgin coming in to join us. Plus Basyang already got in the way of our Wednesday yoga, and I was already craving for it. So off I went, bussing to Makati in the noon traffic and heat. I got there half an hour early, but just a few minutes after my guest, so it was perfect.

It was again a tight group, all familiar faces. It started out with the usual. Maybe what was most unusual was that it was a noticeably light, less strenuous and lower impact yoga session. But then two words threw my complacency into the air. Two words simple enough on their own, but when put together made my jaw drop. Head... Stand... Headstand.

Headstand?! Oh my gosh… We were going to do a headstand today?! I’ve never done a headstand before. I don’t even think they teach that in Kamasutra! I’ll be honest, I was scared. But we were assured that we were to be guided and assisted one at a time. But still... gulp.

So one by one, starting with the most yoga-experienced, our yogi got us into headstands. I was getting more nervous as my turn approached. Four others did it before me, and did it successfully at that. So I had the chance to be the pooper… but I felt dared and challenged. Fine. Let’s do this.

Propped on my hands and elbows, ass up in the air and seeing the rest of the room upside down, I was given three counts to boost my feet off the floor and up onto the wall. One… two… three… and caution was thrown into the air. Next thing I felt was our yogi catching and assisting my legs till they were straight on the wall. I did it! I did it! I would’ve given myself a round of applause if I could!

I was only there less than a minute, but already I could feel all the blood rushing to my head. I was then told to roll out of the headstand when I was ready. What?! I’m here already! I’m not budging! It would be a challenge anew to get out of the headstand. But fine, I would have gravity on my side this time, right? So down I went. It was less of an effort than getting into it, and easier than I expected.

I needed to ask myself. Did I really do it? I sat stunned for a few minutes, until someone from across the room gave me a thumbs-up, asking if I was okay. I smiled back and nodded. I did it. I really did it. Next thing I knew, I was picturing my room in my head, thinking against which wall I could do headstands. Whoa! And I wanted to do more of it?! Hahaha!

That was a yoga session to be remembered. And that headstand was worth more than the minute I was in it. It was empowering. It was liberating. I cannot thank our yogi enough.

It was almost 4pm when I left Makati. Where to? Another date. Same guy I was with at the movies last weekend, so it wasn’t just any eyeball. I headed home to dump my stuff and freshen up. Within a few minutes of getting home, rain started to pour. Was I lucky to get home in time? Or have I jinxed my night out? Argh.

Really, it was raining enough to activate the laze in anyone. But I had made a promise. I promised we’d hang out at his place. It was a promise that I was set on keeping. So I just sent a text message asking for some leeway to wait for the rain to hold up slightly. He was fine with it. After a good fifteen minutes or so, I charged out. In a cab and armed with some instructions with which to direct the driver on where to go, I crossed my fingers hoping that we don’t get lost.

I was lucky enough to get a good driver, who was slightly familiar with the area and didn’t take advantage of my not knowing. I let my don’t-look-lost façade down, and we worked together to find the place. Success. At least I’ll know how to get there next time.

My date led me in, and plopped me down onto his bed. We watched TV and talked, wrapped in a blanket and each other’s arms the whole time. After four hours, I was tired, sleepy, and drugged, and said I had to go... Okay fine, rewinding, we did get a bit frisky within some of those four hours. It was not anything we both weren’t into.

So from there, we freshened up and left. We drove-thru on the way for a light midnight snack. He dropped me off where I could get a ride. I bid goodbye... without a hug or a kiss because of his stand against PDA... hahaha.

As much as I’d like to say that my trip home was uneventful, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that someone makes a pass at me and strikes up a conversation on my walk home. Argh. Small talk is hard enough for me, let alone with a stranger. Good thing he was a pretty decent guy… decent enough to say I didn’t really have to tell him my real age when I could pass for someone in his mid-20s. Hehehe. Talk about a last minute ego boost.

So, as you can see, I had another packed Saturday. It seemed like I was just all over the place, until I watched Nim’s Island on cable today. It was my first time watching it, and I enjoyed the story. Very feel good. But there was one particular line that caught my attention...

Trust is the secret to adventure.

Indeed, trust was huge for me this weekend. Trust in fate. Trust in my instinct. Trust in our yogi. Trust in my body. Trust in gravity. Trust in the weather. Trust in the understanding of others. Trust in a cab driver. Trust in unknown paths. Trust in a date. Trust in a stranger. And over all, trust in what the heavens had in store. A whole lot of trust... and not even counting the condoms I always have on hand just in case. Hehehe.

For a pretty juvenile movie, Nim’s Island hit the nail on the head. Trust is the secret to adventure. It is, at least, the secret to mine. And my adventure just happens to be this little thing I call life.

Unreproductively Productive

2010-07-13T11:30:00.001+08:00

I was supposed to be in Tagaytay last weekend. An uncle of mine arrived from the US and had planned an out of town trip for the family. I was hesitant. Even in family situations, I’m still aloof. At 32, I’m caught in the middle of the generations. Too young and shallow to mingle with the grownups. Too old and out of fad to hang with the kids. The one person I could have related with would be my sister, but she’s been able to evolve and dodge most of our family gatherings. Which left me with a huge decision. To go or not to go?

Not to go. My reason? I had other plans.

It was the truth, I did have other plans. There were so many things I could do instead of being stuck in Tagaytay, succumbing to heaven-knows-what plans the family had for the weekend. Don’t get me wrong Tagaytay is a nice place to be, but I would rather be there with the freedom to do what and go where I’d want. So I decided to stay home alone and get my own stuff done for the weekend.

I’ll be honest. With my mom’s early retirement, I don’t get much time home alone. The times she goes out are usually the same times I’m at work. When I’m home, she’s always there. So I treasure every bit of home alone time I get. I know it sounds harsh to talk about my mom like that. But it’s the truth.

So I woke up early Saturday, and hit the road at around 5:00 am, even before my mom got picked up by the Tagaytay-bound carpool. Why so early? I had a date… a running date. I was trying out being a running buddy to one of my Yoga for Life friends. I’m not new to running. I spent a whole semester with Running for Fitness as my P.E. course in college. But I never got to do it regularly after that.

I got to Ultra shortly before our 6:00 am call time. Running buddy was already there. And so our legs got moving. Warming up walking a couple of times around the oval, we nodded ourselves into a gallop. Alternating rounds between running and walking, chatting with almost every step, entertained by the sight of all the yummy boys and hot men there, and at the same time distracted by all the females, we had gotten into a good rhythm.

Before we knew it, we had been at it for over an hour, without even taking time to sit and rest. We actually lost count of the number of rounds we did. I guessed 10, he guessed 16. So it must’ve been somewhere in between. And if the track was a standard size of 400 meters, that gives us some 4 to 6 kilometers maybe. Good enough for a short distance marathon. Not bad for a first time.

From there, we headed off to get some brunch. Pasta for me, and a huge sandwich for him. My favorite advocate-doctor-yogi caught up with us in a bit, pouncing on some eggs benedict. And then we got chatting away. Before we knew it, it was past 10:00 am. We all needed to go. What I really needed was to rest, but I needed to go home and start preparing for what was next on my itinerary... yoga.

I was falling asleep on the bus ride home, which was refreshing. I got home, but didn’t have enough time to nap. So I just got on the net a bit to check mail, unloaded my bag, packed new stuff, showered and changed, and I was off to Yoga for Life. Sadly, I was unsuccessful at trying to nap on the bus ride to Makati.

Again, I got there almost on the dot. And again, my favorite advocate-doctor-yogi was there. It was a tight group this time, just 6 of us there. And I have a feeling Murphy was there, too. The day’s yoga routine just happened to focus on the lower body. Great. Torture for me. But I endured. And it actually felt good. Like a delayed cool down from the morning run.

A run and yoga on the same day?! I actually surprised myself. Coming from me who has been passing off on working out with the excuse that I don’t have time nor the energy for it, doing yoga as much as twice a week and even squeezing a run in between makes me give myself the evil eye and say, “Well, well, well!”

After an hour of yoga, some of us took a dip in the pool. I couldn’t because I had to be somewhere by 4:00 pm. And it was almost 4:00 pm, I was surely going to be late. I left with our yogi, and was finally introduced to PozzieBoy, one of the newer poz bloggers. We walked together a bit, before PozzieBoy bade goodbye and went his own way. Yogi and I rode the MRT, he to his next yoga class, and me to Quezon City for what was literally my next booking... E’s booklaunch.

I got to there late as expected. And I believe I didn’t have enough energy to even worry about the crowd there. You know how I am in groups of people, right? Luckily, though, E was outside and spotted me right away, waving and calling me towards him. Shortly we went in. The program was about to start, which meant I was late but perfectly timed. Hehe. Fashionably late, if I may say so.

There were some familiar faces there. The first of who was one of the publishers, who just happened to be my highschool classmate. Geesh. Just don’t ask why I’m here, please. I currently do not have a ready alibi. A bit small talk with him, and I was off. A lot of pozzie friends were there to support E. My eldest kid, my grandson, some empowerment batchmates, and others. Some fellow bloggers were there as well, JohnStan, WanderingPolarBear, and of course, McVie and ManilaGayGuy... it was their night, of course!

A word from the publisher, an excerpt from each book, some words from the authors, and it was time for the book signing. We headed out because the place was hot and stuffy, obviously not equipped to handle that many people. BruskoBoi and BFF arrived while we were outside. We waited for the lines to disperse before having our own books signed. To what name? B.I.T.C.H., of course! Both McVie and ManilaGayGuy needed to ask me whether I was sure about that. Naman!

From there, we left E who was still signing books. The posse was going for dinner. And I was off to what was next on my agenda... a movie date.

Of course I couldn’t leave without getting teased that I was just having an eyeball. But this was someone who I encountered through a personals site, way back, before my Papi episodes. Even before we met, I told him of my status. He was okay with it. We went out a couple of times before. And then just kept in touch while I was “with” Papi. And so recently, when we were both available, we got back to going out.

We’re somewhat dating, but with no strings attached. Everything’s clear to us both, no pressure, no expectations. Just fun. And I’m still thankful about how the HIV thing is a non-issue for him. He does ask questions sometimes, and he does get reminded of it every time I take my ARVs when we’re together. But still, he doesn’t care much about it. I got lucky.

So I walked to a nearby Starbucks to meet with my guy. He picked me up and we headed for the mall. We window shopped, had dinner, got some juice, and watched the last full show of Karate Kid. Not bad. It was just nice having a hand to hold while watching... and a head resting on your shoulder, too. It’s been a while since I had that. Argh! Cheesy alert!

Anyways, the movie finished past midnight, I think. I was really nearing the end of my wick after a long, packed and tiring day. And my Efavirenz taking effect didn’t help either. So he brought me home, ending the night with a hug and a kiss in the car. I had to convince him... and dare him even... he’s a pretty shy guy with public displays of affection. Hehehe.

And so my day came to a close. Thinking about it, I could’ve taken advantage of having the house all to myself, and invited some fuck buddy – or buddies – to come over and bang the hell outta me. Honestly, I thought about it. But I had a full day planned out, and not much energy left for any banging. My mind was kept off those kinds of things. No regrets.

Run, brunch, yoga, booklaunch, dinner, movie... Whew! I had a great Saturday… eventful, fun, busy, and most of all, unreproductively productive.

The Threesome

2010-07-09T13:00:00.001+08:00

There's a threesome happening this weekend.

A threesome of book launches, that is... tsk, tsk, tsk, you and your dirty mind.

From the (dirty?) minds of three renowned bloggers, come three tremendous titles of particularly pink prose.

Now these are the books to break the rules.

From McVie of The McVie Show fame comes The Wetbook: Stories from the Bathhouse, an informative but rather funny take on an otherwise raunchy topic: the subculture of subcultures of gay sex in the bathhouse setting.

From the one and only homo hero, Manila Gay Guy comes Dear Migs: Letters to Manila Gay Guy, a compilation of the most notable letters he received through his blog, which becomes an overwhelming picture of the diverse experiences and emotions of Filipino gay guys, and the people around them.

And last but not least, there’s E's The Chronicles of E, the personal story of a handsome young Pinoy (naks!) who discovers one day that he is infected with HIV, revealing first hand what experiences led him to such life-changing event, and how he currently lives as an HIV-positive gay guy in the Philippines.

Being in the blogging circle, I have met Manila Gay Guy once before, and McVie a couple of times. And then of course, E is practically my BFF. That should be enough reason to get me there.

What would keep me away? Of course, there’s that one little complication about this being another social event... where anti-social me should not really belong. But aside from that, the reality is that seeing the list of people comprising the publishing team, I suddenly realized that one name stood out. It stood out because it was familiar. Lo and behold, it was one of my classmates from high school. Ngarrrr.

So at this point, I’m being brave and saying Bahala na! It’s not like E is gonna be shouting Hoy pusit! as soon as I walk into the room. Or will he? Hahaha. But fine, I still plan on going. Will I be recognized? Will I be asked why I’m there? Will he wonder how I got to know E? BAHALA NA.

As readers of this blog, you are officially part of the blogging community, so you are invited to this momentous event. You’ll get to meet the three bloggers in person... and if you’re smart enough to pick me out of the crowd... hahaha... oh noooo!

The book launch will be tomorrow, July 10th, Saturday, from 4:00 - 7:00pm, at theROOM, Ground Floor, Unit 8802 Crowne 88 Condominium, 88 Panay Avenue, Quezon City. The launch will feature performances, cocktails, and a chance to meet the authors and have the books signed. The threesome of books will be available at the launch in a limited edition box set at PhP450. The books will also be sold individually.

The threesome of books is published by Grey Matter Publishing, and the launch is being held in partnership with The Safety Series, an HIV advocacy campaign.

See you there!

After the Glow

2010-07-07T15:45:00.002+08:00

Condoms. I'll be honest. It's only lately that I've gotten a liking for condoms. Only lately, when I've really needed them.

The condom choices out there are absolutely amazing. From different brands, to different materials, to different thicknesses, to different sizes, to different colors, to different flavors, to different textures and what not. But wait, there's more.

As is, choosing a condom is difficult enough. But then there's one other thing that can be added to the mix... anyone want a glow-in-the-dark condom?

And so I tend to wonder, why would someone be so particular about using a glow-in-the-dark condom? Here are my top 10 theories.

# 10
Because you believe that it can mesmerize your partner into giving in.

# 9
Because it makes your weiner look bigger.

# 8
Because you just don't get the idea of darkrooms.

# 7
Because you don't want your dong in places it's not supposed to be.

# 6
Because you really want to see his or her insides.

# 5
Because you really want to emphasize that it's a bulb.

# 4
Because Meralco rates have gone up insanely.

# 3
Because you've been told you're not very bright.

# 2
Because otherwise, it's not going to be easy to find.

# 1
Because you want to give your partner more than just an afterglow.

Hahaha. Okay fine, but I tried.

But other than the question of why a glow-in-the-dark condom... the bigger question would be... What were three guys doing sharing a tent and having a glow-in-the-dark condom on hand? Hahaha.

Let's think positive... at least they were prepared... for anything.