Commuter Rave No. 3: Two Lesbians, A Gay Guy, and an Aircon Bus

Part of my arsenal to combat high triglycerides, bad cholesterol, and pre-hypertension is to do more walking everyday. Last night, H and I walked from Starbucks Intramuros to Park n’ Ride at Lawton for our usual trip home. I took my 7pm medicine (amvasc) before we walked so when I got on the bus, I was really huffin’ and puffin’ and a little woozy. I took a seat at the last row (the “six-seater”) and adjusted the two aircon vents and blasted some cold air to cool me down–which it did, and I thought I will travel in medication-induced peace until…

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Relationship 101: The Rules about Movie Selection

Husband and I have these rules about what movies to watch during weekends:

(1)  If either of us does not like a certain movie or is not so sure whether he likes it or not, it should be parked for the meantime and decide on another movie.  Or for the other person who expressed likeness over movie to watch it alone when the other is not staying over the weekend.

(2)  If it is too late in the evening but we are still up to watching a movie, watch DVD-compiled/Torrent-downloaded TV episodes (e.g. House, CSI, The Closer, Glee, Cougar Town, Flash Forward, How I Met Your Mother). That way, if we get sleepy, at least we are watching something shorter than a film and we won’t end up leaving a movie in the middle.

(3)  For H, “serious” films are a no-no in the afternoon or in the evening.  So, to watch “Blindness” by Fernando Mereilles and “Out of Africa” by Sydney Pollack in the afternoon or in the evening is like convening the UN Tribunal to handle cases involving crimes against humanity. :-p

Today, I followed Rule No. 1.  As you may know, I just got home and after super chika with Mom, I decided to watch “Eat. Pray. Love.”  This time, Rule No. 1 has deprived husband of the privilege of watching a very simple yet breath-takingly beautiful film. (cue flashback music while screen dissolves and cross-fades to last Sunday)


BRIDGET  and JHER were rummaging through stacks of DVD’s to buy and watch. BRIDGET excitedly points to something he likes

BRIDGET:  Eat. Pray. Love.?

JHER:  Hindi daw maganda review. Saka flop daw yan.

BRIDGET and JHER ended up buying PIRANHA 3D and MAMARAZZI.

(cross-fades back to present)

Hahahahaha! But don’t get me wrong. Husband has great taste in films and we share that. He was the one who actually convinced me to buy a compilation of Akira Kurosawa films and that was the first time I really watched his work.

I guess over time, I have looked at the rules as a way for us to maximize our day by enjoying each other while watching something that we both love.

But going back, this is one time that husband missed the opportunity to enjoy watching something with me. I know he will enjoy watching me cry at almost everything..which I did.  I just loved the many touching moments in the film that really made me sob in between munching popcorn, puffing on my cigarette and taking a swig of San Mig premium draft. It was that good…for me.

I think that’s why the film tanked or got lambasted by some critics. It is a film that banks on relatability. If you choose to watch this movie and just “watch” it, you will get bored. This movie will work if you immerse yourself and be the main character’s best friend–that at same level, you can relate to her.  I may have not experienced all of what she experienced, but I rooted for her. And not to mention that I loved the places that she went to to eat, pray, and love which finally led her to find what she is looking for.

The movie talks about finding balance and I have a favorite quote: “Balance is not letting anybody love you less than how you love yourself.”  (cries)  And it has an abundance of quotes, both wise and bumper-sticker types. (sighs)

I love the characters and the actors breathed life to this true story. There’s a moment with Javier Bardem that I cried the most! (remembering the scene just made me cry again…and now I see my friends, Ruby, Weng, and H rolling their eyes *hahahaha*) Oh, I just love all the characters that Elizabeth met along her truth-seeking journey.

Kaya, H. I’ll watch this again with you if you want. :-p

Posted in Mark Darcy Files, My Life, Personal | 1 Comment

Commuting Raves and Rants No. 2 – Butterflies in Her Stomach

Today, October 29, 2010, is both a Friday AND the springboard to a long weekend. And as a commuter, you know the translation–lots of people going home to the province AND super mega heavy traffic.

As a veteran commuter, one should treat this type of Friday not just like any other Friday. One approaches it like Operation Desert Storm.  In anticipation of the long ride, I eat 4pcs of siomai, drink half a bottle of mineral water, buy a pack of peanuts, take a leak, prepare game console, and have a book ready (your backup in case your game console battery loses its life).

At the bus terminal, waiting for me was a queue that was gradually building up.  I waited for a full hour before the bus came.  Endured a full hour from Lawton to Quirino. And an hour and a half more from Quirino to Laguna. I was busy playing a rerun of Silent Hill when I sensed that something was wrong. I looked outside the window and concluded that we were stuck in traffic somewhere in between Magallanes and Bicutan.

The commotion: a girl in her early 20’s was arguing with her boyfriend. I swear this is what really happened!!!

GIRL:  (in the most annoying airhead, shrill voice) eh kasi naman eh, I really don’t care what they’re going to say… (dabog)

BOY:  ang tagal tagal natin kanina nakapila! kanina pa kita sinabihan, ang arte-arte mo!

GIRL: eh kasi naman, kadiri naman yung bathroom sa terminal eh…(makes gulo her hair)

BOY: anu ba, enough na!

GIRL:  I don’t care! (she stands up and storms her way down the aisle while her boyfriend is super tunaw na in kahihiyan)

GIRL: (makes inarte to the bus driver and at the top of her lungs, mind you ha) manong, pwedeng bumaba sa nearest na gasoline station???

BUS DRIVER: Naku, miss. Nasa gitna tayo ng SLEX. Hindi ho pwede.

GIRL: eh traffic naman eh. Sige na, manong. Bababa muna ako.

BUS DRIVER: Miss, ano ba kayo??? Hindi pwede noh, baka ma-aksidente pa kayo, kami pa may kasalanan.

GIRL: Hindi, manong. Pls naman pooooooo! (the “o” is stretched and does a roller coaster dip and rise) ALAM KO NA, MANOOONG! Di ba may mga portalet sa skyway construction site?? Tutal traffic, bababa lang ako for a while…

The poor Manong Bus Driver surrendered and when the girl caught sight of the portalet almost 500 meters away….

GIRL: Manong, now na. Buksan mo na ang pinto!

BUS DRIVER: Miss, hindi  pwede. pag nasa tapat na tayo. Hindi naman masyadong traffic baka masagasaan kayo. Hindi pwede.

GIRL: kasi naman eh…(girl dabogs while boyfriend covers face in shame with his awful fedora)

Nung tumapat na sa portalet with the construction workers, Manong Bus Driver opened his window at nakipag-bolahan sa mga construction workers in behalf of the nagiinarteng gurlaloo. Finally, doors opened and girl dashes out (in slow motion with the theme from “Chariots of Fire” playing).

And the entire bus waited.  For her.  For a total of 20 minutes. While all the vehicles sped past by.  On the 15-minute mark, a lot of the other passengers were agitated and actually shouting at the driver: “Lakad na! Iwan nyo na yan!”

Finally, GIRL appeared from the door (obviously refreshed). As she walked down the aisle (smugly, mind you), some of the passengers heckled and threw imaginary rotten tomatoes at her.

PASSENGER 1: Pa-importante!

GIRL: (making irap) I don’t care!

PASSENGER 2:  Binili mo ba ang bus???

GIRL: Hmph.

PASSENGER 3:  Field trip mo ba ‘to?

GIRL: (silently glares)

And then came the bomb (pun intended)…

PASSENGER 4:  Dapat nung nasa terminal ka, TUMAE KA NAAAA!!!

Everyone laughed.

GIRL plops in her seat crying. BOYFRIEND buries his face in his God-foresaken fedora.

MORAL LESSON…well, refer to PASSENGER 4. (rolls on the floor laughing my ass off)


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My Memory of Greece

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Commuting Raves and Rants No. 1 – Three Cute Guys in a Bus

I know I have written a handful of entries about the joys and sorrows of daily commuting.  Regardless of the fact that commuting is the validation of being lower-middle or middle class (tee-hee), it has been a source of inspiration for most of my memorable blog entries. Remember the story about my FX HORROR STORIES , falling from grace este the bus, and the JOLLIBEE KID? Oh to be middle-class and sans private vehicle. Hahahahaha! But hey, the payback is lots of stories to tell and memories to go back to. 🙂

So, I decided to start doing “episodes” to feature only my commuting experience. This is the first of my commuting rants and raves. Ok, I am actually confused because I dont know if this is a commuting “rave” or “rant”. Let’s start.

As you all may know, I take the bus to and from work. It is Php60 one-way, darling. You do the math, transportation is the larger slice of the middle class take-home income pie. (argh) So, I boarded my flight..err…bus, and decided to sit at the back. You know, the 5-seater long seat where 6 people are being squeezed in? Anyhoo, I took the window seat on the left side. Pulled out my game console (naks) and prepared for the 2-hr ride home–veteran middle class commuters style! Then suddenly…(cue Barry White)

Three cute students emerged from the front and walked down the aisle (in slow motion)–with their well-defined chest and arms, their broad shoulders, their young 20-year old skin, stylish hair, and towering height. And they were walking towards the back…where I was seated! (cloud callout squealing ensues)  I nonchalantly concentrated on my game console, tucking my imaginary hair behind my right ear while glancing at them (all this in slow motion), and as the first [and most handsome] guy was about to sit, i prepared my sweetest smile, then he asked me: MAY NAKAUPO? (cue record scratch) did I hear Mahal and Mura combined when he asked me? rewind…

(Barry White plays again) I nonchalantly concentrated on my game console, tucking my imaginary hair behind my right ear while glancing at them (all this in slow motion), and as the first [and most handsome] guy was about to sit, i prepared my sweetest smile, then he asked me in a squeaking rat voice like Mahal/Mura: MAY NAKAUPO? (cue record scratch)

Ugh. Yup. Tall, handsome guy, with well-defined chest and biceps, broad shoulders, and cute smile has a shrill and small voice like he was possessed by Sto. Nino (I can hear him say: “chorri, chorri po.”) Talk about dealbreakers. All I can say was:  Pit Senor.

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My Norma Desmond Moment

There are lots of things that gay men dream of. One of them is to quote lines from Gloria Swanson’s iconic “Sunset Boulevard” character, Norma Desmond. And today, I am fulfilling my dream. (giggles)

As you can see, I have a new blog entry. You may ask, “Bridget, is this a comeback?” In true Norma Desmond fashion, I answer you (with diffused lighting no less):  I hate that word [comeback]. It’s a return, a return to the millions of people who have never forgiven me for deserting the screen.

Ah yes, how could I have deserted my fans like that. Hehehe. Kidding aside, i miss my friends more than blogging itself. I have found myself reviewing this tribute to all of you and I suddenly missed everyone. I also found myself reading my past entries and reliving all the emotions as I was reading all of them. The reaction was as visceral as the first time I wrote them. And the comments? I felt the genuine connection to whatever I wrote. This drove me to the conclusion that I missed THAT connection. That feeling that I have touched someone’s life by making them laugh or cry with me, or just by simply making people relate.  Getting reactions like “that happened to me too!” makes my day…and I really miss that.

So, I am returning to what I love most. Connecting with people. I know I see most of my blogfriends in Facebook but interactions are too short. Unlike the intimacy that we have when reading my blog entries, you commenting/laughing/crying/getting mad and basically sharing what I feel, that’s what I want to revive.

Hence, I will see everyone soon–and I know you will be there. Why? Because I am a star.  And as Norma Desmond said:  No-one ever leaves a star. That’s what makes one a star.

(Looks at the camera…frames face…catches the light…and utters through the blinding spotlight)  I am ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille…”

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On Loving Dick and Being Gay

I am a member of an online forum of photographers. I browsed through a thread and stumbled upon a topic entitled, “A Day with a Transformer.” The topic starter featured photos of his day with presidential candidate Dick Gordon and he bragged about creating this shirt for the presidential aspirant:

Photo by: Gerald Baria (Lifted from the online forum)

Surprisingly, the replies went from comments about Gordon as a candidate to a slew of associations of the shirt with homosexuality:

“My friends would impale me with a 10 foot pole if I wore that shirt.”

“I’m guessing where they’ll impale you… hehehe”

“Hahahaha… that’s really funny.”

“The shirt’s too GAY………. add a rainbow, and you’re ready for Castro St. in SFO.” (This one is from the Thread Moderator, mind you.”

“1st read the news about Ricky Martin, now I saw your shirt.. Tsk tsk what a day!!”

“hahahahaha. as gutsy said, never argue with a man who loves dick.” (This one is from the retired editor)

H said that it is not unexpected for them to react this way. I agree. I use terms like “my gosh, you are so bakla” and the like but it is within the context of fun and joking around with friends. And I would be a hypocrite if I will say that my brain did not generate a list (a huge one) of sarcastic remarks. However, I felt that the comments in the thread associating the shirt with being gay were out of disgust, for a lack of a better term. I wanted to let it slide but i could not help it. So, I replied starting with a “semi-made-up anecdote” just to set the tone:


i worked with an association of game fowl breeders in negros. the president of whom was a former mayor of a city in negros. and when we were talking to the officers, they closed our meeting with “what can we say? we just love cocks…and cock-fighting” Everyone laughed and clapped over the naughty wit.

i have to agree with you, Gerald. based on your photo, the shirt works with the intentions you have mentioned (ex. to be catchy). but you have to admit that there are some people who have a different perspective on the matter brought about by their personal beliefs and values. and you have to consider the context of who will use it–a presidential candidate. some might perceive this as “unbecoming” of a presidentiable.

i personally love the shirt. its funny and witty. kudos to gordon!

oh and yes, i am gay. but liking the shirt has nothing and should have nothing to do with someone’s sexuality. (my straight best friend says he loves it too *thumbs up*) believe me when i say that if a guy is wearing a shirt with “i love pussy” printed on it, it does not automatically mean he really loves cats…(winks)

and i do love dick…
…but i’m sad to say i am voting for another candidate. (winks again)


In today’s world, I am still surprised that there are lots of people who still need to be educated on gender sensitivity. Kalurkey!

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