One (From A Chorus Line) – The Philadelphia Boys Choir & Chorale
A few days ago I read in The Phnom Penh Post an article called ‘Being Single Sucks’. I checked if it was a local article (written by a Cambodia-based writer) and found out that it was a re-print. I read the article with growing alarm. It extolled the virtue of being married, not partnered, and boldly declared that women who said they were happy to be single as ‘mentally sick’. To tell the truth, reading the article left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Misogyny and arrogance can be a really repulsive combination.
This afternoon, at a particularly dull time at the office (yes, I’m at an office–but that’s another story), I read Jericho and Kawadjan’s latest posts on singlehood/ singleblessedness. These two posts provided me eloquent discussions on being single. Jericho believes that ‘everyone has to have someone with them, but this need not be a romantic someone. Kawadjan, meanwhile, enumerated 5 reasons why he is single, eventually singling out fear of rejection or pain as the biggest reason for his single state.
So what am I trying to say? I will not elaborate further on the points taken up by these guys. I can only say that I identify with the feeling of getting asked a lot about my lovelife, whether I have someone or am I just fucking anything that moved (I wish). A year has passed since I got unceremoniously dumped by my Cambodian lover of 3 years. My dalliance with my rebound boy has simmered to a platonic friendship. My single-ness is rendered un-noticed by countless friends who surround me. And I’m most happy to be f*ck-buddies with an older guy whose boyfriend is based in Australia.
My FB asked me once if I would consider being his real boyfriend in the future. I said it was a discussion that I didn’t want to have. He never asked me again. I think he was just trying to be polite, anyway. These Khmer men, with their gentle contradictions and feigned modesties.
This past year, I have felt a range of emotions that were totally un-related to my romantic entanglements. I think I had enough drama to last all seasons of Flordeluna and Annaliza put together. The last thing I need right now is to enter a situation that is rife with possible tension and upheavals. Friendships–the real kind, fill my life with delights that pale in comparison with the kind that I get from romantic relationships. My family is another source of joy and belongingness.
On hindsight, I think the bigger reason why the newspaper article irritated me (aside from the previously mentioned misogyny and arrogance) was because the author posited that being married (partnered?) was much better than being single. I don’t think one is better than the other, actually. For many people, being single and being married happens because of one (or a series of) decision(s). As long as one can live with the choices s/he has made, who are we to judge?
Let me end this by saying, I became single not because of my own doing. However, until I decide otherwise, I will remain single because I choose to be.
Come See About Me – The Supremes
I was tagged by Luis but didn’t know about it until recently. I was similarly tagged with this meme in facebook by a few other friends and I didn’t complete the task until a couple of days ago. Pardon my laziness, but I’m copying the facebook meme in this post.
Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, beliefs, goals, or habits about you. At the end, choose at least 25 people to be tagged. Tag the person who tagged you. If I tag you, it’s because I want you to know more about me.
1. I’ve had many nicknames. Growing up, I was called Kelly by my parents–because of the Ginebra San Miguel advertisement, when they were being affectionate. When they were pissed at me, they would call me Miguel. When I went to high school, I was just Michael. In my first year at university, I was christened Mikoy by a classmate. I transferred to another college in my sophomore year and my new set of friends called me Mike or Mikey. But at home I was still Michael to my parents and older relatives. Until now. Only my friends and cousins call me Mike. In 1998 a friend gave me another nickname: zen bitch. I used this nick name in my blog and now my fellow bloggers call me zen, zennie or ZB. I also have another nick name: Mimi, which will be explained later in the list.
2. I’ve been hospitalized two times all my life. The first was in 2003 for pneumonia and amoebiasis and the second was in 2008, when I had a couple of surgical procedures to (1) remove my stone-filled gallbladder and (2) the gallstones that blocked my biliary duct.
3. I learned to drink coffee at the early age of 9 because of my mother (not that I am blaming her). This was because when I was young, my mother and I always took trips together from our house in Bulacan to my grandmother’s in Manila, to my grandparents’ in Pampanga, and other places. Usually, we traveled in the mornings so she would wake me up and make me drink a hot but watered-down coffee to wake me up.
4. I first tasted alcohol at the age of 18; through my college friends. The first cocktail I tasted was gin-pomelo. However, the first cocktail that I loved was ‘Zombie’. The next drink I learned to drink was Tanduay ESQ (at age 21) through another friend. I was only able to drink beer when I was 22.
5. I’ve always been fascinated by tattoos and have always imagined how it would be to have one. I have, in fact, long chosen what my tattoo(s) would be and where I would have them. However, up to now, I’ve never taken the step to realize this day-dream.
6. I was a skinny boy. I started gaining weight when I was 12-13 and never returned to my former lithe self. My weight fluctuates according to my level of exercise and laziness.
7. I was a boozer for a long time. One of the reasons why I loved to drink was because I had such a high tolerance for alcohol. I just piss it away. I can drink up to 6 bottles of Red Horse or Colt 45 or Super Submarine and I would still be able to walk a straight line. I never puke even if I mix beer and hard drinks. I never get hang-overs. The only effect of alcohol on me is I get a very sound sleep. I reduced my drinking when I got to Cambodia and since getting sick from gallstones, I have all but totally eradicated the habit (I only drink once a week or so).
8. I never came out publicly as a gay man. In high school I fooled around with boys and in college I fooled around with girls. I worked in an NGO that was staffed mostly by gays so I’d been accepted, no questions asked. In my next jobs I was never ‘in’. But at home I never said anything. I waited for a direct question from either of my parents. And my mother did not ask me until 1997. When she asked me if I were gay, I said yes.
9. I was never an excellent student, even if I skipped a grade in primary school (from grade 3 to grade 5). I did well but all my teachers believed I could do more–that I have more potential. I enjoyed science, language and history but hated mathematics. In fact, in college, I took a remedial of college algebra. hahaha!
10. I love to read. When I was young, I read a lot of Filipino komiks. I especially liked those that had horror stories. I didn’t read a lot of children’s books, though. Aside from the illustrated Bible stories. In high school I was introduced to the ‘Choose-your-own adventure’ books series and I loved them. The first book I read that was not part of the school curriculum was ‘It’ by Stephen King, which a neighbor lent me.
11. I’m a huge horror/science fiction/fantasy fan. I love Stephen King, Clive Barker, Frank Herbert, Greg Bear, Isaac Asimov, and Neil Gaiman. Anne Rice is an acquired taste. From comic books to graphic novels to novels and films, I just love the genre.
12. I’m afraid of clowns and mascots. I used to fear spiders a lot but this fear has subsided over the years. I’m not afraid of the dark but I cannot sleep in total darkness; I need at least a small source of light, like the bathroom light, the street light, or moonlight.
13. I like it when it rains. I don’t know why. I like to go out when it’s raining, I enjoy walks under the rain. I also like staying at home when it’s really raining hard (like when there’s a typhoon), to sit around the house, a book and a hot cup of coffee on the table.
14. I like cooking and hosting dinners. This is something I was only able to do when I started living on my own because at home my mother is the reigning queen of the kitchen. Here in Cambodia, I like to try out new dishes and invite my friends to taste my culinary experiments.
15. I’m an only child. This will probably explain a lot about the way I am but I am not the ’stereotypical’ spoiled child. I just know the things I want and I usually get them. Joke! Seriously, I am not averse to being alone and doing things for myself. However, I also enjoy the company of other people.
16. I am very selective when it comes to friends, because I do not make friends easily. I have a few old friends but I cherish them all fiercely; I will do anything for them and stand by their side if they need me.
17. I do not trust people easily. This is a recent development, though. This is probably because in the last two years I’d been hurt by the choices I made regarding friends that I am more careful now when I meet new people.
18. Others might find it hard to believe but deep down, I’m a shy person. When I’m in the company of people I’m meeting for the first time, I’m usually quiet. But it’s not snobbery; it’s shyness. It takes me a while to warm up to people, but when I do, I’m adequately cheerful.
19. I love to laugh. I have a sense of humor (which others often misconstrue as sarcasm–I prefer the term ‘wry’ actually). I also love people who loves to laugh and who makes me laugh.
20. On a bi-polar note (hehe), it is easy to make me cry. Things that can make me cry: films, TV shows, songs, and stories. I also cry when I’m mad at someone, when I’m really really sad, or when I’m particularly horny (?).
21. I have this ability to stay in one place for a long time, doing nothing, When I was a boy I loved to stare at the sun, which bothered my mother a bit–she feared I would go blind. These days this manifests as my tendency to sit in one of the city’s many coffee shops, in front of big picture window, iced coffee on the table, and just watch people as they walked by. These observation expeditions often provide me the inspiration to write the things I write.
22. My (not so) secret dream is to be published one day. My poems and stories have been published before in magazines. And one of my stories was anthologized in the book that came out last year. What I really want is my own book–whether it’s a chapbook of poems or a short fiction anthology, I would be extremely happy and fulfilled.
23. I’m working on a novel that is set in Phnom Penh. The story is populated by amalgams of people I have met and known so far in this country. It’s juicy and potentially controversial. I hope I have enough energy (and nerve) to finish this project, though.
24. I love Nora Aunor and Madonna. Enough said.
25. If I had been tagged to do this years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do it because I didn’t like talking about myself. I have never been open to other people. However, many things have happened in the last few years that resulted in changes within myself. I have learned how to be open yet still protective of my privacy. I just hope I can sustain this balance that I’ve tried to so hard to attain.
This morning, as I was sitting in front of my computer in my new office, at work on the plans for the magazine’s next issue, I thought briefly about logging on to my new/old blog.
If you’re one of the few spectators of my blogging life, you know that I recently moved back to blogger after almost 2 years with my previous platform. Along with this move, I left my apartment after a mere six months because my landlord refused to renew the lease, which I had acquired from a friend. And then, days before the official move, I was robbed while I was sound asleep in my room.
All these moving, these comings and goings–literal and figurative–have contributed to this “block” that I couldn’t seem to get out of. Pardon the clunky term, but it’s the only word I can come up with as of this writing. Aside from fixing the new house, I don’t seem to have much of an appetite for everything–work, play, interaction, church, cooking, and writing.
I did many things: learned a new card game, shopped for second-hand stuff, bought fish, and traveled. But these did not rejuvenate me.
However, I realize I am writing now. So probably the block is on its way to a happy non-existence. It feels good to be writing again. I will probably have more to say in the coming days. I hope the handful of readers that I have will await my further “effusions” as if I weren’t absent for more than 4 weeks.