Saturday, November 26, 2011

hello world

It’s been a week that I was keeping to myself the sad feelings of losing a best friend after reading the most annoying SMS message from him. An exchange of messages thru FB last Thursday and Friday, which I arranged hoping that the schism would be ironed out, proved more fatal. I was ready to lose him from my house and in my life.

As I resumed work this Saturday. At the lobby, I was welcomed by non-functioning elevators leading me to climb the stairs till seventh floor. Before the climb, I almost absented myself and headed home to get more sleep. But my load of work was on my mind, thus work prevailed. My heart beat went so fast that my heart seemed to explode. As I sat down and attended to my daily routine, three SMS churned out, two morning greetings from my babe and one from my former best friend.

To my surprise, the best friend cum house manager asked for forgiveness after realizing his mistakes. An explanation of having nobody to speak to on his problems and getting into self-pity on his financial situation was enough for me to understand him. I know, his financial predicaments was brought about by his love, priority and high regards to his family that he cannot say no, whenever his niece or sisters ask for financial help for their education even if it leaves him penniless.

Accepting my friend would entail more financial responsibility too. This time, we will both pay our SSS loans and monthly dues for our impending retirement. What are friends for?

Not all is well, though. I got diarrhea today, probably after all the tension was gone. Hmmmmfpt.

Friday, November 25, 2011


I feel sad. I think am losing a friend. He used to be my best friend. As my house manager, my life was smooth. Everything is attended to for more than 15 years.

It started with an SMS message followed by two-word message.

It seems my friend was so insecure of old age and was so frustrated for him not o have paid his SSS.

But his text message was not enough. His messages are already glazed of discourteousness and shallow issue he tends to build up against me.

The bottom line is we now have issues that had started to break the whole house and friendship and I want him out of my house if not my life.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

more woes

A friend sent me today an email saying that expatriate workers included in the list of 18 job categories will no longer be able to renew their residence permit effective 7 January 2012.

The email is so alarming since I already changed my job profession that matches my current job two months back, a requirement that was enforced by Saudi Labor Ministry mid of September. This is so freaking me out that my category fell on a profession that is already earmarked for locals in Saudi Arabia.

After a disturbing start this week regarding the impending "poor annual performance appraisal" that my boss is cooking for me, another blow for my work in the Kingdom is hanging like a sword on my head.

Parang nasa bahay lang ako ni Big Brother naghihintay ng forced eviction sa tunay ng bahay at buhay.

Monday, November 21, 2011

life sucks

It's one of the worst days of the year.

"You always give me wrong answers, Edgar," my boss said after he asked me why the employee does not have our bank partner's account.
Apparently, the boss was annoyed that he has to sign an inch thick of documents including payroll, bank transfer forms, appreciation letters, and personnel requisition among the many papers I handed him first thing in the morning.

His tone of voice and obvious display of unappreciation on my never-ending pile of works echoed when I read his email about the annual appraisal. His arrogance this morning could pull me down in this appraisal time, which means no annual performance bonus in March.

Well, I already know how discriminating my boss is. While people in the Philippines expect this time to be jolly, the struggling migrant worker lowers its happy mode to record level. Parang drought lang ang peg.

Tasks for the week: scout for room to rent (bawas gastos for the year), dialogue with string house manager back home (dagdag padala, thus dagdag gastos or scout for new house bantay), purchase and activate internet data roaming SIM card, send monthly amortization plus monthly allowances for house managers, close deals on downlines for vmobile and TVI for this month. Send clothes for ironing, dispatch brother's old car.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

birth pains

Coming out for me is apparently when you realized the sudden urge to hold another man’s dick. He he he. Sadly, time flew fast since the first time that right now I could not remember when was the first time I first held one man’s penis. Huwaw.

Like Venus Raj’s 30 second-moment to recall her greatest mistake, I could not recall.

Well, it seems that I did not come out. I think he came in. Yes, I think he knocked on my door and if I am not mistaken that hairy thin man from Pagadian let himself in after I opened it and he comfortably sat on my bed. He was tipsy.

We talked. Chika lang baga. I guess, I incidentally hosted the first talk show in 1978 during my freshman albeit there was the absence of lights and cameras. Later, I found him lying on my bed beside me and he asked if he could kiss me on my lips. “One second lang,” and before I could reply he kissed me and when I thought it was more than the time he asked I pushed him back and tried to wipe my wet lips.

Thinking back it was hot and soft but I so naïve, the scent and taste of the alcohol was so awful.

But his body is hot and I think he caressed my whole body and late grabbed my hand to hold his very stiff dick.

Cutting and dragging to few years later, I continue to be discreet although I keep on secretly gazing to other guys bulging groin when there are special moments during my college days.

During these college years, I also discovered the struggle to be free from campus repression and better education.

I thought writing for the campus paper would be cool to write my thoughts and what I see during those Marcos time.

The activist in me got involved in campus activism where I easily introduced myself as gay.

That remained until now but I remain prim and proper at all times except when am at home and in my own turf where I could bitch around naughty boys.

I guess was lucky to have an American gay activist to be my first flat-mate when I first worked overseas in 1991. I was introduced to gay parties where French, Brits, Americans and Arabs wait the breaking of day.

It was also here when I pity the very unique situation of local gays where they could not come out for fear of being disowned by their own family.

Last month, my officemate showed me a picture from his cellphone of his gay friend living in London.

“They prefer to suffer living away from their family just to come out and be free as gay,” my friend lamented. Obviously, he misses his “friend”

Few months back during my vacation, news spread like wild fire that Filipino gays are banned in the Kingdom.

I just shrugged off the news. The regulation has been there before. But the news that there were already more than 30 Pinoy gays deported was already slowly getting into my nerves.

A cumadre emailed me at home to be extra careful during my return to the Kingdom.

“Wag kang kumembot na baka akala mo si Jinky Pacquiao ka. At lalong wag mong gayahin si Mommy Dionesia pagkat bading na bading sya lalo na sa make-up nya. Si Manny Pacquiao ang gayahin mo at mag babad ka sa dagat para di kapansin-pansin ang flawless sa kaputian mong kutis at ganda.”

Yes, coming out is painful. And my job place is slowly contracting like delivering a new life, thus the strict measures being undertaken by the conservative authorities because gay people are obviously coming out.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

di rin masaya

Am so confused. I need to calm down.

Friday was a bummer. I learned that my bank account in the Saudi capital was frozen. Eh kasasahod lang noong Wednesday at di ako nakapag withdraw. Takot ako.

All banks here requires all depositors to update all information almost annually. I recently renewed my iqama or residence permit after replacing my lost foreign worker’s permit. Automatically, I know I had to update my information, which I did two weeks ago.

Went to an ATM machine before I did my groceries but instead of churning monies, the machine alerted me to visit the nearest administrator of the nearest bank branch. Whew.

I knew it would happen. The same thing happened some three years ago. They were not able to encode the necessary information in their system. Duh.

I tried internet banking. Transfer money to zambo’s bank account. Did not work. I was even alarmed when it stated I had no enough amount to transfer. Screeeaaaammm.

Saturday, first day of work of the week, I felt like an overheated robot. Even if I tried to speed up my work, there was no way I could squeeze time and visit m bank.

When work was done, banks had closed for the day these time of the holy month of fasting. Work schedules are shorten and ours are just similar to any banking hours.

The sun set and the breaking of the fast is almost near. I tried to transferring money. It did.

I got zambo to bring me the money. Went to send money back home.

Now am sad again after counting what has left from me. Haiz.

I thought I could buy a pair of slacks and new neck ties but. Haiz

I thought i could buy a new laptop or a second hand desktop. Haiz.

I thought I could buy a new SLR camera. Haiz.

Well, I was able to buy more food stuff to last me for a week or so.

salamat po, lord!