Archive for September, 2008

don’t tell zaide

September 24, 2008 · Filed under Uncategorized

the guy behind the glass window at the embassy had to ask my mother, “why is your son not with you today?”

without missing a beat, the woman who once paid for hundreds of sachets of cream silk so my hair could give off halos, stared at him, bared her teeth and hissed, “he’s currently having lunch with the president!”

i am quite confident that it was not as dramatic as i imagined it to be, but she was telling the truth about the lunch and well, my hair did give off halos.

meet lemuel: finished 8th place at the recent board exams for physicians. et cetera. listing down his achievements here will just crash your browser.  and as he was one of the first gentleman’s scholars, a lunch was bound to happen. it just was. and i was invited.

next to the table where i was sitting, julie yap-daza was being the goddess that she is. in my religion, if you have the balls to ask richard gomez on your late-night show if he’d do you for a night, i’ll say your novenas. and yeah, charito planas was there. i did not like her.

mike arroyo, face heavy with face powder and lips blinding from too much shiny lipstick, arrived on time for the occasion. a few made a beeline towards him and well, lubricated themselves in. cameras flashed. smiles painted on. then something happened. he started to approach me. now, while this was all going on, i was busy texting my amazing fag hag, asking her what i was supposed to do with the cutlery placed above my plate. i am usually fine with spoons, forks, knives, scalpels and microwave ovens so long as they are neatly lined up on either side of the plate. place any of them somewhere else and i get anxiety attacks.

and it was too late to ask cathy how i was supposed to address the better-half of the country’s bite-sized powerhouse.

his crotch was a few inches from my face and his hand was sticking out, waiting for me to take it. still sitting, i grabbed his hand and said, “hi, nice meeting you.” stupid. stupid. stupid.

lem, should you be reading this, please do not forget to invite me for the oslo or the copenhagen version of that ceremony. i’ll come with a script.

_______

pic from: http://www.smh.com.au/ffxImage/urlpicture_id_1063341778565_2003/09/12/13wldarroyo.jpg

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Are you a tourist or an Aquarian?

September 22, 2008 · Filed under Uncategorized

Yesterday, went to the American Book Center in Amsterdam despite feeling the onset of a nasty flu. Jos was there, after bribing him with a meal at this Japanese eat-all-you-can restaurant just across the bookstore. The occasion? David Sedaris was signing copies of his latest, “When You’re Engulfed in Flames”. 

Just before I left work to go to the bookstore, I told every person who could stand me, that I was going to a book-signing. A couple asked if I was the one who was going to sign books, and I had to smash their dreams (of having a famous colleague) with a simple, “no, silly” and a wink that spoke a lot.

I was prepared. I had my copy of the book (sorry ABC, got it from Selexyz) and a little camera for Jos to snap away at me and David for posterity–say I get uber-famous, David can say, “Oh, I had a picture with that guy. Thankfully, I had it framed!”. While waiting for him, Jos and I had to browse…bad idea of course, because I ended up buying from the bargain shelf.

As famous people would, David came 15 minutes late, just halfway through my nose clogging up from the flu and Jos fainting from hunger. There were two guys with him…one, a loud-mouthed fat guy who sounded American and another, who might as well have been just a figment of my imagination. As soon as David took his seat, the loud-mouthed fat guy who sounded American and had a hideous bag on screamed, NO CAMERAAAS PLEAAASE. David, fabulous as he was, added, “Guys, I am soo ooooooold!”. Note to David, you shouldn’t mind cameras just because you think you’re old. Take it from my grandfather who’s probably 456 years your senior. He doesn’t care. 

Was disappointed of course, but I approached his desk anyway. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Blaise…that’s B L A I S E”

“Okay…B L A I S and you said, E?”

“Yeah.” (Insert stupid smile here)

He started writing what was going to say, “Dear Blaise, you’re matchless.”

“So, Blaise, are you a tourist? Because tourists are one of a kind..”

“No, I work here already…I live here”

“Tourist? What’s your astrological sign?” In my head, I screamed, SHIT.

“Oh, I am an Aquarian.”

“But you could be a Taurus.”

“Okay.” (Around this part, I was starting to wonder whether I should show him my palms or not.)

“So, where are you originally from?” (I noticed a lisp.)

“I’m from the Philippines. I heard you were just there.”

“Yeah, I went to Wowowee. It was fun!” (The only way that program can be fun for me is if Willie Revillame disappears magically, never to be seen again.”

“Eh…”

“So are you a balikbayan, Blaise? What is a balikbayan?”

“Balikbayans are Filipinos who go back to the Philippines, usually for vacation.”

“Nice. It was fun while I was there. I also went to a cockfight!” He was beaming. 

“Am I going to read about those soon?”

“Yes!” 

At this point, I had to leave so the woman in ugly dreads could take her turn. I said goodbye and floated my way to the Japanese restaurant. 

 

 

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