Alcohol-Laced Observations on a Gay Night

Went bar-hopping with gay friends and it was pretty amusing. The lack of men and the abundance of vodka has brought about much mental masturbation and bitching on simple truths. The following thoughts were pondered after the 4th round. If they don't make any sense, oh well... They did at the time we thought of them.

1. The New Look of Power. This vampy woman is by no means a night crawler, but the current iron butterfly of the leading cellphone brand. Thank Gawd the suits no longer wear suits. However, on a night of Hed Kandi and cosmopolitans, the only thing that separates her from the night crawler would be to examine her outfit’s cut and fabric. And unfortunately, only the gay men can distinguish that it’s a Pucci. (Or is it a Morgan? Geez, even I don't know!)

2. The New Hetero Go-Go. There are men-only girlie bars. There are Chippendales and women-only strip clubs. There are bars just for gays. I'm just glad a new breed of Go-Go is coming into this mix. Went to O bar in Malate and found it refreshing that there was a guy and girl tandem on stage. Except for the slightly skimpy outfits, they didn't strip down. They were just up there dancing like the flyboys and flygirls of MTV Grind. It was good, clean fun. Sort of reminds me of a time when people go to discos to dance and just that. Also noticed that people don't come on to each other too much in that atmosphere. The whole atmosphere feels a wee bit platonic. Maybe it's because the flygirl was clothed, not for sale, and is really a deans-lister at La Salle and just dancing for fun. Or maybe it's because everyone danced to Madonna's Jump and that killed the sleaze factor altogether. Or maybe because the bar is owned by gays (though not a bonafide gay bar) and the male and fale patrons can't really mess around bec its neutral ground...



3. The Emerging New Face of the Filipina. We (myself along with colleagues, college buddies, etc) have always been asked, how come you don’t look Pinay? And defensively we answer, how is one supposed to look anyway? The trouble is, we are expected to be petite and brown-skinned and dusky, with a figure that would fit a size 1 from China. But the Filipina look is changing. Centuries of interracial breeding has finally created a more diverse-looking population. I can’t help it if my nose looks like an Italian schnozz. Or if my hair is naturally curly. Filipinas do have curly hair, it’s just that they’re brainwashed into hair straightening. The point is, the mestizas (Eurasians, mongrels, mudbloods) of questionable descent are also facing the world stage, representing the Philippine race, and are proud to embrace this culture. Sure, we get some perks and can demand a little more respect from anyone with a colonial mentality. But there's still that they vs. us. We can't haggle in Divisoria market because they think we're not a local. That's the price one has to pay for not being brown.

Losing Innocence

With the brouhaha over Disney girl Vanessa Hudgens, I would say she's not the only one who lost her innocence.

Last week, my daughter clicked the Internet Explorer icon and out came the MSN homepage. And on the headlines, she read DISNEY BACKS VANESSA HUDGENS NAKED PHOTO. As she was reading the article, she asked a barrage of questions:
Mom, isn't she the girl in high school musical?
She has a photo with no clothes on?
Oh, she wanted to give her photo to a boy... To Zack?
Is he her boyfriend?
Do boys like it when they see girls naked?"

Not really wanting to lie, I just answered as matter-of-factly as I could.
Yes.
Yes.
I don't know.
Maybe.
The last question, though I struggled, I answered Yes.

Ohmigawd. I am totally unprepared for the day that she would ask sensitive questions about sex. But I'd rather she asked me, than go off researching on the net.

"Mom, I feel bad".
"Why?"
"Because I thought she was a good girl".
"Well, it doesn't mean that she's a bad person, baby. People make mistakes. Her mistake was not thinking of consequences".


Sandra did look disillussioned. Nobody likes to see their idol defamed. It's as bad as the Jollibee Mascot sex video joke.

"Mommy, anyway... how did her boobies look like?
That I didn't answer.

Pretty Offended

I was rushing to a talent casting session yesterday. The corridor leading to the casting room was dotted with prospective talents with their managers and agents. Being always in a hurry, I just squeezed myself in and huffed a quick "excuse me, coming through" for people to make way.

Then this guy, whoever he is, goes Miss, you gotta fall in line"
I looked back, not quite getting what he's saying. I'm in a rush here. So I asked, "hello? why do I have to fall in line?"
And then he answered "because all the models have to register".

Oh, man you should've seen my face!
I then politely told him I'm actually from the ad agency, and my presence was needed to pick the models, not to act as one. But I did manage to commend him for keeping the session organized. I also managed to keep myself from grinning and not snort a giggle.

But deep inside... tee hee hee hee...

Miss_Understood

Setting: In line at a Coffee Counter.
Woman ahead of me places her order to the barista.

Woman: one broddycap.
Barista: (confused) uh... Mocha Frap?
Woman: No, Broddycap.
Barista: Ma'am, we don't have caps or hats.
Woman: Broddycap! Yor selling it! I see it on sign board!

I guffawed when I glanced up at the menu board.
Yup, the woman was right.
They do have brewed decaf.

Hi-Tech Toilet

I get amused with the simplest things... Having been around SouthEast Asia, I'm quite happy just seeing a clean toilet. But when I managed to see one of these babies in Greenbelt, talk about being impressed. I was like, whoa, holy crap!

So um... Anal massage anyone?

Dear Santa

Another cheap thrill. My daughter is one of the kids who voiced for this Radio spot. I'm so impressed with her, she has done TV, print and radio at age 7. And I swear, I had nothing to do with it. :-)



Note: For some reason, the video plug-in has bugs, depending on the browser. For this reason I switched from Safari to Firefox. Holler if the video (well, radio ad) doesn't play.

Two Seconds of Fame

Well, not really fame. Sort of like a really cool cheap thrill for me and my daughter. Here are a series of ads for car headlights released in Manila Bulletin last August 25.

Click, Click, Ow!

DOWNSIDE: Annual Medical Exam interfered with work. Not only did I (ok, we) have to line up for the blood test, I had to multi-task and think of a promo tvc while in line. On top of that, I almost passed out from not having breakfast.
UPSIDE: Blood test may finally prove that I am anemic, have low blood platelet count, extremely low cholesterol levels due to not eating properly and not getting enough sleep. And maybe the office will see how weak I am and grant me some time off! A vacation, finally!.. Well, I can dream, can't I?

UPSIDE: Free pap smears, to be conducted by our friendly Medicard medical technician. And it's done here, right in our office! No need to go to Makati Med!
DOWNSIDE: Cannot fathom idea of having my privates poked with a speculum while hearing the clickety-clicks of neighboring keyboards. Or worse, officemates hearing my gasps (definitely not from pleasure) from the next cubicle. I'll pass, thanks.

UPSIDE: They said I am eligible for a free ECG exam.
DOWNSIDE: I qualified because of my age.

DOWNSIDE: The FGD room has a one-way mirror to another room -- this is where we ad people view consumers' reactions to certain ads. Nothing bad about that, right? Try having the X-ray procedures done here. And be told to strip down and face the mirror braless. Hello, world!
UPSIDE: None.

DOWNSIDE: Our urinalysis and fecalysis samples are temporarily placed next to the pantry area.
UPSIDE: Office-wide appetite loss.

My Mr. Brazil

Ever since I got neuro-gassed at Sandra's birth, my memory has been awful. So awful, I can't even recall the name of this model whom I personally picked and shot. To think he's deliciously cute!

So what's the point? Why do I have a Brazilian hunk on my blog? Well, let's say that apart from needing some eye candy and make my posts less sad (that's the general feedback lately), I got pretty amused with him.

He's about 21 years old, eats carb like a cop, gorgeous but not too full of himself and just about the most professional kid (young model) I've met. He's FOB from Sao Paolo, and not because he was flown in specifically for this project. He flew in by himself. Sort of gambled on his luck, charm and good looks. He wanted to make money and knew that SouthEast Asia is a good place to boost his modelling career. With all the demand for more Eurasian-looking talents, I practically knew he'd get approved by the clients the minute I saw him. Plus, those rock-hard abs were pretty convincing.

But what really moved me was at a young age, he knew what he wanted. Times must be hard, so he gave up school and marketed himself to modelling agencies around the globe. He was driven by need.

Geez, what was I doing at 21? I was trying to decide whether to be a journalist, or be a copywriter. I was concerned with boys and fashion. I still lived with my MOM! I didn't have a savings account. I had no sense of what would happen in the future.

He on the other hand, has travelled across Europe, North America, Asia... has been saving money, has tried to learn the language of every single country he's visited. He's only been in Manila for 3 weeks and could already understand conversational Tagalog.

If I were his Mom, I'd be so proud.

By the way, his Coke Light billboard is at Greenbelt 3, Makati Ave side. His abs are in posters around the malls as well.

Jesus, You've Got Mail.

I've mentioned before in an earlier post about wondering why and how did Sandra's teachers and guidance counselor took a special interest in the fact that her parents are separated. And now I know why.

Went to her school for Parents' day. The ex and I agreed (well, we fought first. sigh) that I should be the one attending it, you know, to avoid making a scene. I was late as usual. The classroom was already packed with earnest kids and matching doting parents, the sight that would be teeth-tingling if I totally lacked any wholesome Brady Bunch family empathy. I was alone, but okay. Maybe just a wee bit envious, but I thought if I can just go through the motions as quickly as possible, this event would be painless.

Or so I thought.

There were lots of cards displayed on the class bulletin board. Parents' day cards with a Dear Jesus letter. I thought it would be a great idea to go scoot over there and look at 'em cards and avoid socializing altogether. I caught the teacher making a sideways glance at me as I approached Sandra's card. And before I could say Holy Press Release, I caught The Dear Jesus part in her missive. I don't want my parents to have problems and pls try to put them together and love each other agin (sic). Talk about bringing in the big kahunas, my daughter is now asking Jesus what she couldn't ask me. The thing is, THIS card isn't a personal letter, it's a class project for the teacher, the whole class and all the other parents to see. I glanced at the teacher again and she smiled at me. Hmmm... So this is what it feels like to star in your own reality show. LOL

At home, I asked my daughter about the card, and she told me not to worry about it. "Besides, I asked Jesus, Mommy. Not you. You don't have to do anything about it".

I wish it were that simple. I wish I can call on divine intervention and have my prayers answered. But even the most pious of people cannot afford to have that much faith, or be just fatalists. And oftentimes, people being human, would pray for the wrong things anyway, and God knows (if and when he's listening) if he'll take these prayers seriously.

I thanked Sandra for the prayer. Yes, maybe Dad and I shouldn't fight anymore. I'd pray for that. But right now, just that.

The Breakables

UPSIDE: Wow! They're finally giving the trophies away!
DOWNSIDE: Um, Er... Where should I put them?

Lots of changes happening now. Our Chief Creative Officer is revamping the Creative Department -- not just the organization, but also the decor. Among those eased out were the old trophies from the past Ad Congresses and Creative Guilds Awards. So when they announced if it has your name on it, you can get it , I grabbed mine. Having them now fills me with both pride and regret. I remember being a young writer, winning an award and feeling like a hotshot. But now that I'm handling accounts that are more hungry for profit rather than accolade, it's harder to get this chunk of glass.

Anyway, since I don't have the space in my flat (and would be petrified having breakables around) they now sit on my cubicle window. So when I get writer's block or when I feel blue I could always say hey you, you didn't do too bad. .

Here Comes The Rain

It's more like a storm, actually. It's been raining for days, and I've been coming to work drenched to the skin. The city I love is engulfed in a dull gray hue, even after lunch, which is when I snapped this pic. Being a closet clinically-depressed person, I took pains to appear peppy in times of gray. I play music, I put on make-up, and unlike the UV-ray avoiders here, I am the only one in the creative department who'd pull up the window blinds. I like looking at the cityscape, the coastal view, the sunset. It really takes so little to cheer me up. Blue skies and white puffy clouds enchant me most of the time and I stare at them when I'm brainstorming by myself. But now, with the skies so dim, so is my disposition.

Miss_Conception

UPSIDE: People mistook me for a very educated Japanese American with an L.A. valley girl accent, thereby sealing a preconception that I must be a sophisticated, cosmopolitan woman.

DOWNSIDE: Except for being educated, I am not any of these. And I'm not comfortable being in a social circle that only accepts me because they thought of me differently. Like, "she can't be pinay, because she doesn't project 3rd world".

The international community would often perceive Pinays to be either dowdy, or if they put on some bling they must be hookers. Only the mestizas and Eurasians can get away with flash. That's Manila for you. Perceptions haven't changed since the Spanish Era of colonial brain washing.

But globally, cultures are accepting change and cities are becoming diverse. So to some, my own eurasian look and accent are misleading, but to others, these are just manifestations of being a global citizen. One who works in an international community therefore must have the look (and in my case, accent) that is acceptable and understandable.

I am Pinoy as one can be, with an improved system and packaging.

The Magic of Roses

I must've looked like I'm at my wit's end for someone to hand this to me. I would rather get pity, or money, or make-up --anything. But Flowers are different. They symbolize a lot of things, and open a lot of questions with answers I'm not sure I want to know. Flowers have the power to make me gush, a feeling I almost hate to admit. Historically, I only receive them when there's an occasion (get well, valentine's, birthday, mother's day) but never without one. When asked what's the reason for this, the answer was charity. A forlorn rose peddler with no sale was the subject of pity. And the second subject was me, with my obvious streak for glum, paranoia and lack of confidence, I must have been the perfect recipient. I placed them in an old crystal vase, in between bills and clutter. And in the middle of that disarray, was a ray of light. a thing of beauty. It's like seeing hope.

The Trip to the Guidance Counselor

There it was, a note on her student diary. She has been interviewed by the guidance counselor again. Those words filled me with apprehension. What do they want with my daughter? Much as I'd like to think of her school as just another mass money-making educational facility, I am slightly pleased, surprised and yet scared -- yes, very much so in fact -- that they have taken an interest in my daughter's psychological well-being. An interview means they're making assessments. Of what, I have no idea.

So I asked her. She replied carefully, in short sentences, as if she was focusing on keywords and thinking about editing them if I make the slightest wince. They talked about her favorite subjects, where she lived, playmates if any, etc etc etc.

I was cutting pictures for her art project and I was hoping to keep my hands steady. I'm quite certain they asked about me, about her Dad. For crying out loud, they have 13 sections on the 2nd grade, why this particular interest on my daughter? They must be taking into account that she's a product of a broken family, and therefore needs special attention. And I was right.

"Mommy, there are three of us in my class who have separated parents, and they talked to all three of us", she said. Aha. Oh well, I expected that.

"So what did they say to you?" I asked.

She smiled and shrugged, "oh stuff I already know. They told me IT will be ok. And I already know that".

I hugged her. Yes, darling, it will.