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.
But I want to.
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.
But I want to.
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.
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Sweet Break
Friday, February 04, 2011
Work It, Jerk
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.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Christmas?!
It's not easy getting up in the chilly mornings.
There are so many things to do.
My back just hurts.
I have a cold.
I'm tired.
Hehehe, okay fine. I'm gonna stop ranting. Chika lang! Drama lang yun.
Although all of the above are true, I know there is much to be thankful for. I'm alive, I'm healthy (well sort of, hehe), I'm happy, I love and am loved. And maybe the only thing I could wish for is for everyone out there to realize the things in their lives they can be thankful for.
Personally, I'm thankful for everyone who has become a gift to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And Merry Christmas to everyone as well. :-D
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Hell Week
With the party and all, I enjoyed last weekend. A lot.
But that being said, you know how after something extremely good happens, there’s nowhere else to go but down? Well, I think that’s what happened to me, as last weekend’s extreme joy ushered in one hell of a week.
I trekked to work Monday morning, recharged and ready to start the week. When I got to the office, early as usual, I was greeted by a handful of visitors seated in the waiting area. Odd... why were there visitors so early in the morning? And then I remembered they had posted an ad in the papers that weekend announcing job vacancies in our company. Today was recruitment day.
It was half an hour before our hours of operation, but fine... as the person up front, I started preparing the application forms and examination papers for the job applicants. I’m not sure how long I turned my back, but the next thing I knew, all twenty seats in the waiting area were occupied, and more people had come in the door.
At that point, I started panicking. I packed as many people as I could into every available chair, as well as the conference room, but still that wasn’t enough. I was overwhelmed. And I was going to be overwhelmed... alone.
So I got thinking, the quicker they got through the application process, the quicker they would leave. I gave out application forms, conducted tests, checked and scored them, and forwarded them for interview, but I just could not do it fast enough alone. It’s like I was running... on a treadmill... getting nowhere. And while I was doing all that, more applicants just kept on pouring in.
At some point, I broke down. I didn’t know who needed what anymore. And I’d like to think I’m a pretty organized guy. But having to do all that, plus having to answer the phones, plus having to issue supplies, plus having to disburse cash, plus having to do everything else that I do... plus having to endure all those eyes staring as I panicked... I just lost it. It was absolutely inhuman. I wanted to cry. I wanted to faint.
I don’t know how attractive an ad they had put out, or if there are just that many people looking for the same job, or if we were the only job opening in the Metro or what... but it was insane. Would it have not been more practical to ask applicants to e-mail their applications and select and schedule them from there?
I was so busy that I didn’t have time to check my e-mail. I didn’t have time get online. I didn’t have time to check the incoming messages on my phone. I didn’t have time to take a snack. I didn’t have time to take a decent lunch. I didn’t even have time to pee, for heaven’s sakes!
If I wasn’t convinced before how badly stress could affect my physical well-being, I am now. I felt nauseous, had a headache, was coughing, was sniffling and developed back pain like I was doing more than a desk job. Trust me, I was just a fever, vomiting, and diarrhea short of all the Influenza A H1N1 symptoms.
Even my brain felt like it was on dimmers. Everything was just a blur. I sort of remember some of my colleagues coming to my desk to give me more things to do, but that’s it. I don’t recall what each of them said nor what I did. I must’ve looked like a deer in headlights.
At the end of the day, which actually went an hour past my regular working hours, the last applicant finally left. Finally, finally, finally. I had gone through almost a hundred applicants... and I was beat. I was both physically and mentally drained. It was miraculous that I could even manage to smile. But I was in a daze. I felt like I was on ARVs already. I felt like I had put in a week’s worth of work. But nooooo... this was just Monday.
Monday’s applicants were enough actually to fill up the six vacancies available. Yep, just six out of a hundred. But I was still told to entertain applicants on the days that followed. Sure, the days that followed weren’t as bad as the first, but by that time, Monday had already taken its toll on me and my body, so it wasn’t any easier.
Recharging just wasn’t as easy as plugging me into an outlet. Sleeping the full eight hours every night didn’t do it for me. I know sex is supposed to be an effective method to release stress, but being in an over a month-long drought, it didn’t seem like an option. I even had to beg the Hotbox team to postpone the Positivism meeting to next week because I was afraid I’d fall unconscious if I had much more of a load to take on. By Thursday, I got the permission from management to turn away applicants. Finally.
Yeah, sure, it was going to be a long weekend ahead, thanks to Friday being a national holiday in the Philippines, but still, it would take every minute of those three days to de-brief and de-stress, assuming of course that I had that luxury. I do have responsibilities at home, too, ya know.
So there, that should explain why I’ve been out of the loop for the past week. I’m assuming... and hoping... that it doesn’t turn out to just be the start of a Hell Month. If that happens, naku, Lord, kunin mo na ako. So for now, I declare... Hell Week is over.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Valentine's Day
I told myself I wouldn’t blog about Valentine’s Day. And I didn’t. I did blog on the 14th, but on something totally different. But right now, I just can’t help myself. The mere fact that I was blogging on Valentine’s Day meant nothing else than that I was single and dateless. Single and Dateless? That’s S.A.D. And that’s totally sad.
I hadn’t even gotten past that bit of depression I had last holidays when Valentine’s Day was suddenly just around the corner. It was actually a good thing that I had my CD4 count to worry about until a couple of days before Valentine’s. I thought the high that my CD4 count left me with was good enough to last me a while, but…
Anyways, Friday night, the 13th of February, I purposely went straight home from work, not even bothering to stroll through the two malls that I could’ve passed. I just didn’t want to navigate through the presumably huge crowds that were there. Okay, so maybe that’s not the entire reason. I didn’t want to see droves of couples walking hand in hand either. That way, there was nothing to rain on my solitary parade.
Next thing I knew, it was Saturday. The 14th. Valentine’s Day. I only had a trip to the grocery with my mom scheduled for the day. I took time to drop my little cupid, Baby Nathan a line first thing in the morning, and met my mom at the supermarket shortly after. I wasn’t really enjoying being there. I already saw some couples shopping that early in the morning, and I wasn’t too keen on seeing more. I just wanted to get out of there. So I rushed my mom through shopping, and left for home even before the rest of the mall opened.
I don’t even remember what I did the rest of the day. I think I was just watching television, snacking, surfing and sleeping for most of it. But thankfully, no drama. I even decided against going to the nearby Burger Machine, afraid of having to pity myself for going for a buy-one-take-one deal alone. The day passed by without a hitch and I was happy. I slept through the night, and Valentine’s Day 2009 was over. You’d think, right?
The following day, the 15th, I spent at home again. I was able to do some chores around the house as well, and evening came with nothing really significant happening. Right after dinner, I retreated to my room earlier than usual, and got into a text conversation with a friend. And then it happened. Cellphone in hand, with Nina singing I Love You, Goodbye in the background, I just shattered to pieces. I don’t know what got over me, but I got so depressed.
My chin trembling, tears streaming down my face, and who-knows-what out one nostril... the works. I blame my friend for telling me I made his day. I blame Nina for singing her sentimental song. I blame my right hand for pressing “PLAY”. I blame the night for being so dark. I blame my mind for losing it.
I think it was self-pity that crept in. I looked into the mirror and took everything in. I saw what others saw. I saw me. I looked okay, but still tried to figure out what was wrong with the person I was staring at. It was a question which I couldn’t answer. Is it the HIV? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe nothing is. Maybe I am okay.
Fortunately, I was able to calm myself down after that. It was over in no time. I just always enjoyed having a good sob, something I haven’t done in a while. I now needed to focus on the work week ahead, and was fast asleep in no time. I woke up with a bad headache and a mood to match, luckily without the puffy eyes. I know it’s a bad way to start the week, but hey, I’m just human.
Another Valentine’s Day gone, and hopefully no more residual dramatics. Another twelve months before I need to deal with it again. The countdown begins... now. Ngarrr.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Happy New Year?
Since finding out I was HIV-positive, especially earlier on when I didn’t really know what prospects there were left for the rest of my life, I had put myself in a mindset of preparing myself to live a short life. Of course, that included having to prepare the people around me, especially my family, to get used to not having me around. And take note, as of today, still no one in my family knows I have HIV.
Among us 13 cousins on my mom’s side of the family, I might not be the least talented, but I’m certainly the least appreciated. Let’s just say, if there weren’t any papers that obligated them to recognize me as a blood relative, I’d probably be an orphan by now. And the HIV thing isn’t even part of the equation yet.
Even without the HIV factor, I’ve already probably been the biggest failure, or at least the least successful, that I’ve had to make up for it in other fields. I’m the most scrappy, I’m the least ordinary, I’m the most sarcastic, I’m the least gullible, I’m the most witty, I’m the least sensitive, I’m the most goofy, I’m the least uptight, I’m the most street-smart. These are things that I won’t exactly get citations for, but have learned to be proud of nonetheless. But that’s just it. I’m the only one who is proud of myself.
I know this all makes me sound so pitiful, but since finding out I was HIV-positive, I thought this might actually work to my advantage, making it easier for my family to cope without me, in case of my early demise.
So time-space-warp to today, New Year’s Day. Just like Christmas Eve and All Saint’s Day, another obligatory occurrence for a family reunion. This year was no different.
The one thing I was definitely there for was lunch. But heaps of rice, slabs of crispy pata, chunks of fish, and mountains of salad later, I was left in limbo.
The men were playing mahjong, whereas I hate gambling. The women were Skype-ing with my brother and other relatives abroad, whereas I was still actually enjoying my first brother-less New Year. The girls were trying on dresses and blouses, whereas I was keeping my opinion to my discreet self, not planning to be Fanny Serrano for them. The boys were playing some multi-player shooting game on their laptops, whereas I am still of the Pacman, Tetris and Minesweeper generation.
I envy my sister who has been able to break free from the obligation of attending such family gatherings. It’s as if she is no longer expected to show up. Which is sad for me, because she might’ve been the one I’d be hanging out with if she was there. But I’m happy for her. And I’d like to be that way too, no longer expected to be around.
But this was ridiculous. I’m still alive, and already it’s like I didn’t exist. I had nothing to do. I was stuck in nowhere land. Not here, not there, not anywhere. I felt as though I could’ve left and no one would notice. And that was really sad. I was just lying there on the couch, feeling my heart breaking with that realization.
Although I’ve learned not to fear death itself, I have to admit my greatest fear might be dying alone and having the life I’ve lived not sum up to anything. That I would not have done anything significant in this world. That I would be forgotten.
Spending the day with my family left me with both a happy reassurance and a sad realization: They’ll be okay without me.
Happy New Year?
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Not so Christmasy
Oh, shit. Four days to go till Christmas.
It’s never been a day or a season I look forward to. Ever since I had the maturity – or should I call it angst – to look beyond the decorations, the gifts and the food, and into all the emotions that are wrapped up with it, I’ve come to realize how the holidays have usually been a lonely time for me.
I know I’ve always regarded myself as a loner, and as being strong and secure, but Christmas is a time that magnifies all my insecurities, all the loneliness, all the self-pity and all the hurt. I can honestly say that I’ve cried myself to sleep on more than a couple of occurrences of Christmas.
I can’t say I’ve always been single whenever Christmastime comes. But memories of the few years that I’ve had someone special beside me during the holidays end up being tainted with doubt when the relationship ends because of infidelity, mostly on their part.
Last year, my first Christmas after my personal vow of singlehood, I remember getting the most greetings ever, mostly from the guys who I was playing mistress to at the time. But knowing that they needed to sneak off and could spare just a few minutes from their normal lives to drop me a line, and when these guys would need to go back to their wives, girlfriends, partners or boyfriends, I realize that the numbers didn’t count. Eventually, I’d be alone again.
This being the last weekend before Christmas, I’ve been attending party after party the past few days. Fun? Yes, definitely. And though I am usually nothing more than a wall flower, the happiness overflows in my heart when I see other people happy. Creepy to some extent, I know. But deep inside, I’ve been feeling the loneliness skulking in.
From my late father, I inherited a penchant for booze. And though I don’t really do much of it, nor am I addicted to it, I’ve been treating myself to my fair share of the drinking the past few days. But as much as I’d like to try to drown my sorrows away, it’s like the heavens have taunted me again. I do not get drunk. I’ve gotten as far as tipsy and sleepy, but never ever gotten puke-mad-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-can’t-remember-what-happened unconscious. I don’t know if that’s a good thing. I want to forget the loneliness. I want to be numbed of the pain. But I wasn’t meant to be that lucky.
This will be my first Christmas after finding out I am HIV-positive. How much worse will HIV make it? Only time can tell.
So far, sans the HIV part of it, Christmas seems to be a time when everyone is already busy with their special someone. And as I’ve learned, third wheels will get left behind. Even just seeing strangers everywhere I look paired up walking hand in hand just leaves me sighing and trying to shake the loneliness from my mind.
Apart from that, it seems to be a time when people seem to be wearing new clothes, sporting new looks, and of course looking damned good, and it’s been such a torture to try to keep myself from having any part of that pie. I’m just afraid it’s going to get too complicated. Or maybe I’m too proud to admit that I’m needy. I don’t want to run the risk of having something end up as a fling just to tide me over the holidays.
So for now, only solitude will surely remain by my side. I’ll be constantly reminding – and convincing – myself of all the pros of being single, and if I’m lucky, when I go to bed tonight, I’ll wake up to find out it’s January already. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to whip out – Gasp! – my License to Drama. Just wish my sanity luck... please.
P.S. On a good note, POSITIVISM.PH is up and running! Check it out! Thank you, Hotbox and Synthesis! Congrats, Bossings! We've only just begun...
Monday, June 16, 2008
My Sanity
Exactly two months ago today, I found out that I am HIV positive. Not exactly something to celebrate, but maybe just reason enough to be happy that I’ve survived this long and managed to remain sane… for now.
My HIV journey has slowed down a bit, after hitting that speedbump of needing to tell someone before getting started on the ARVs. Someone to help me on my journey. Easier said than done. I’m still numbed at the proposition, and still trying to figure out what to do next. I’m tempted to ask how urgent it is for me to start on my ARVs.
I was talking to a Swedish poz guy I encountered on one of the gay personals sites I frequent. In his opinion, I wasn’t doing too badly, and he didn’t think I needed the medication too urgently.
He may not be a medical expert, but he speaks from experience of living with HIV for 4 years now. So I have to admit that what he says does carry some weight with me.
So I’m tempted to think. What’s the real deal anyways? What’s really going on? Do I really need to start on anti-retroviral medication? Or is this sense of urgency merely a ploy to try to fasttrack my “coming out” to my family? That’s just playing with my emotions, and really not very much fun. Emotional blackmail, to be harsh about it.
I hate having to bother to think such sinister thoughts, but I’m left with no choice. If I am advised to start my ARV medication, why was I not counseled further while I was there, or even given a date for counseling or starting the medication? It would be really, really tragic if my condition was aggravated just because I was not able to start my ARV medications earlier, right?
I’m left with a lot to think about, but fortunately it hasn’t exactly been causing sleepless nights and restless days. Now you know why I need to celebrate my sanity at this point. There might not be much of it left. Get that straightjacket ready.
