a lifestyle

Last night we went clubbing. It was a gay bar…lesbian to be exact. I don’t know what I was expecting but we really had a good time. I’ve been to men gay bars and that’s fun too as long as I was with my gay friends. I don’t think I’d have the nerve to go on my own. Gay men in their own territory can be a might intimidating. Gay bars are great cause there’s no pressure. We hung out, danced all we wanted, drank, and got wild and crazy. No inhibitions. In straight bars, all the hoochie mamas are in the bathroom primping and bitch talking. Everyone is checking out everyone else, you get hit on when you’re on the dance floor or at the bar. Lot of action but that’s too much pressure. I guess when I was younger and in the market I didn’t mind that.  Now I just want to hang out with friends for drinks and go dancing with no reservations.

We did just that last night. I was wondering if the people were friendlier because they were lesbians or because we were in Texas? In LA the younger crowds are rowdy, the asian clubs have too many bitches, the white clubs are  boring, the black clubs are too gangsta and the older crowd don’t know how to dance. They did dress well though. There was a select few clubs I would regularly go to, but there were certain nights we wouldn’t go there if a pack of wild horses dragged us.

The club scene here is tame and pretty casual. You go to the wrong one though and you may just end up at a midnight rodeo. That was hilarious. It was a fun night, after a few tequila shots I was feeling pretty good. We drank and sweated it out on the dance floor for about 3 hours. We met a lot of people we knew we’d never see again. The bathrooms were always empty no long lines (guess lesbians don’t need to touch up their makeup). The line in the women’s restroom in straight bars are always a mile long. One thing I did take note of…there’s a lot of butt ugly butch women. I swear that’s probably why they’re gay…they were hard on the eyes.

right or wrong?

There is this elderly gentleman who comes in to eat breakfast everyday. Everyday he came it at the same time, puts a cereal box on his tray, a carton of milk and a cup of fruit. He shuffled along, got in line at the cashier and pay for his breakfast. He would silently eat alone at any vacant table. He never lingered or loitered. As soon as he was done he would bus his own tray and shuffle out the door. He was not a vagrant for he always paid for his own food, he was quiet as a mouse but never made eye contact with anybody.

The problem was he smelled terribly. He smelled of dry sweat and rancid urine. He wore the same clothes everyday, blue pants and blue polo shirt that must have seen better days. He may be incontinent for he soiled himself and this is where the odor came from. He probably can’t help it. He reeked so bad the stench reaches your olfactory system 20 ft away. You would gag the minute he entered the room. The dining room usually cleared out quickly whenever he entered the room.

Apparently this gentleman took the public transportation across the street. The bus driver would get many complaints whenever he allowed this gentleman to board the bus with all the city commuters in their business suits heading to work, students on their way to class and the general public. After months of complaints and suffering the stench left on his bus after the man got off, the bus driver had had enough. One day he declined service to this gentleman. He would not allow him to get on his bus. For many of the commuters this was such a relief because the man would stay on the bus for hours on end. Maybe he enjoyed the scenery but most likely it was to hide from heat of 101 degrees outside.

One commuter was angry. She was appalled that this man was refused service. She reported the bus driver to the city. She felt that the bus was a public service provided by the city thus no one should be denied access. She claimed it was discriminatory and unjust.

The bus driver countered that majority of his commuters were the one discriminated upon by being made to suffer intolerable conditions by a service provided by the city. The bus driver was suspended. He was also denied another route. However, nothing was ever said that he had to allow the man to ride his bus either.

Who is correct? Does this mean the old gentleman would need to walk to wherever he lived? Is the bus driver obligated to let him ride the bus? Do the majority suffer for the rights of one person? Do we sit back and do nothing? Do we care either way at all?

getting in shape

We decided to kick-off a late summer exercise program. Too late now for the bikini season, but we’re early getting in shape (hopeful for any shape) for next summer. We started walking after dinner missing, the first half of wowowee. Not too bad a trade actually. Half the time is spent roaming thru the new developments, walking thru the skeleton structures of new homes as if we were city inspectors, hiking thru ditches because the roads aren’t finished or climbing over rubble left by construction workers. After a few scares from snakes in the grass, getting chased by angry wasps because we knocked over their nest and scraped knees I had enough.

Late Friday night I went out and bought everyone bikes.  I made sure to buy one that had shocks in the seats to protect my fat butt. We kicked off the second part of our bikini-hopefuls (hope to fit in one someday) training. For a week now we’ve been taking our bikes out for rides in the next neighborhood (our neighbors might run us over). We’ve managed to stick to this regimen for a week. Honestly I haven’t lost an ounce of fat, I haven’t burned off a single calorie nor have I misplaced an inch anywhere in my shapely (coke litre) body.

I do know though that my mega-thighs are burning and I sleep well at night (from exhaustion thinking of ways to cheat). My body has aches in muscles I didn’t know existed, I creak in joints I thought I used to have and my heart is pumping a healthy, hip-hop rhythm.

When life was simple

High school… feels like eons ago. Remember the good old days when we were carefree, worryfree and financially free? Do I miss those days! Days when my biggest problem was that humongous zit in the middle of my forehead. A time when money was my Dad’s backpocket away. Work was a word that the oldies used, and age was waiting to hit 21 (when everything became legal). My music back then was Madonna, Duran-Duran and Richard Clayderman. My TV shows were Knight Rider (before David became a lifeguard), the A-Team (with Mr. T and his mohawk) and my all time crush, Richard Dean Anderson from MacGyver. I think the 80’s was the bomb, our music and our shows. We didn’t have reality TV shows back then. I reminisce because a couple of High School buddies are here in town visiting. We got to talking about our kids and comparing what we had back then to what the kids have now. It’s disgraceful the luxuries we give our own kids. To think they treat all of this with non-chalance as if it’s their birth right. My generation tends to overcompensate our kids with luxury items. Why?

My kids for example get a new cell phone every year, the latest ipods every year and the most updated laptop every year. I’m talking a 10 yr old and a 13 yr old. These kids had their own cell phone in kindergarten, had their own laptops in 2nd grade and are already telling me what kind of car they want to drive when they get to High School. I bust my ass working and forgo saving for retirement so I can provide these kids their expensive toys. This doesn’t compute. Why do we do this? Cause we’re a bunch of suckers! We buy into all the guilt and emotional drama in raising kids so they don’t become dysfunctional adults. Pleeeeezzze… so much baloney. I turned out just fine without all that stuff. Now if I could only convince my kids…

New Orleans

Spent 4 days in New Orleans. After Katrina I wasn’t expecting much. Downtown is almost back to normal. There are a few stragglers of buildings that haven’t been fixed. We stayed at the Harrah’s hotel by the riverfront. We spend the days sightseeing and spend all night gambling. 2/3’s of New Orleans still hasn’t been rebuilt. There are whole neighborhoods with abandoned houses. Some families have put trailers in their front yards and are living there because the insurance companies haven’t paid them yet to start rebuilding their homes. There are signs in front of other homes asking for any information on the homeowners. They’ve been missing for the past two years. They claim that 70% of the people there still practice voodoo. Of course I had to check out the dark, incense-scented stores that sell voodoo stuff. Pretty creepy. We walked the famous French Quarters and Bourbon street. Famous for jazz clubs, bars, cafes and nightlife. They do have awesome cuisine. The best food are found in these little hole in the wall restaurants. Great seafood. Their signature crawfish and gumbos. We visited some plantations outside of the city and saw how they lived back in the 1800’s. Really impressive. I fell in love with the southern charm of New Orleans. I got wasted on their infamous hurricane. It’s great while you’re drinking it. It’s when you stand up, it hits you like a hurricane hence the name. It was a fantastic mini vacation. Need more hurricanes.

watching TFC

When my Mom and Dad announced they were coming to visit us here in Texas, we hurriedly got TFC (The Filipino Channel). That’s all they watch back in LA. Every evening after dinner we sit in the den and watch “Wowowee”. After 2 weeks of this, I now know who Pokwang is. She’s the one with all the outrageous outfits. It’s pretty entertaining, lots of comic moments and drama. For a gameshow…yes…there is drama. It’s like watching afternoon soaps. The show is pretty lame but I enjoy it. My Mom and Dad flew back home yesterday and here we are now still watching Wowowee. Hey it’s addicting. I see all the contestants and wonder why so many people in the Philippines have no teeth? Then again I wonder why all the female hosts have beautiful unblemished skins and shiny, black hair? I even buy sunsilk shampoo at the Filipino store in the hopes my hair would  look as healthy.  I swear my hair doesn’t even come that close to being as shiny. I wonder about the host who looks like he has ADD with a bad overbite? The contestants all scream and fawn over him and tell him how handsome he is. Ugh! I wonder too at all those dancers in their skimpy outfits. How the hell do they keep their boobs from falling out? The dancers move like they belong in a Vegas strip club. So much unwarranted talent in one show. I’ve missed “The Buzz” every Sunday which I’m dying to watch since I’m a veritable gossip. One of these days I’ll get to watch more than just Wowowee. I hear there are other shows. We’re planning to go home to the Philippines this October. The funny thing is when I’m in the Philippines I never get to watch local TV. But that’s ok we now have TFC… and wowowee. Beat that!

terms of endearment

“pseudo-boss”

“we love you like the boss we never wanted”

“stomp the boss”

“Kudjo”

terms of endearment from my staff, the bunch of comics.

Never a dull moment at work. The boys have been making points. I need to catch up. I’ve finally broken down and taken to locking my office door when I leave. My desk chair went on vacation and disappeared for half a day, my monitor grew legs and walked to my other desk, my binders jumped to the higher shelf overnight, my printer got scared and hid under my desk and my phone developed amnesia and lost all my pre-programmed speed dial numbers. Something smells fishy in candyland.

When SH_ _ hits the fan!

I hate work!!! Yes, I know…I say that all the time. But, today I really, really hate work. I got my ass chewed out today, not just once but twice!  My whole department was in an uproar. I got into a heated debate with my Director. She questioned the work of my staff. She ranted and raved about their incompetence, and I stoicly stood my ground and defended them. In response she chewed my ass out. I prevented myself from sticking my tongue out at her and giving her a loud behhhh… that might seem a tad unprofessional… but I was sorely tempted.  I blew into the administrator’s office and vented my disbelief. Can  you imagine the audacity of the director?  How dare she question the integrity of my department?  How dare she undermine the confidence of my staff? etc, etc, and so on and so forth.  After foaming at the mouth and uncrossing my eyes, I took an hour lunch.  I really needed that breather.

However, my day didn’t seem to be over. And it was getting worse. Less than 5 minutes of stepping back into my office my Director returned with another set of issues. Deja vu, round two! Hoping this wasn’t going to be a Manny Pacquiao and take 9 rounds for a knock-out, I bit my lip in silence. I blew into the administrator’s office once again and was livid. I was so furious, my nostrils were flaring that a pigeon could fly up in there. Well, last I heard, I maybe hearing from the COO of the company tomorrow. Hmmmm…wonder if this is take two for retirement?

Stress relief

I finally got back to painting this weekend. This is the first oil painting I’ve done that isn’t a portrait. I haven’t had time to paint since last August. Didn’t realize how long it’s been. I sort of stumbled along as I painted this, remembering how to handle the paint… I started of just mixing the paints, no direction, no composition in mind. I wasn’t happy with it in the beginning, so I left it alone for a couple of days. I punched in the colors a bit yesterday and moved things around. I like it a little better today, so I thought I’d share it. The composition is lacking, I did capture the light and the perspective is a little bit off. Granted I am my worst critic. Getting back to painting is doing wonders for my state of mind. I can forget the drudgery of everyday life, the stress of trying to survive in an escalating economic crisis. However, they don’t call them “starving artists” without a reason. So back to real work I go.

Summer fling

We’ve hit summer. The beginning of summer hit hard and hot. We were clearing the high 90’s in no time flat. The past week we’ve broken the 100’s…and so summer begins. To celebrate the heat, we prayed for rain and had a block party in the neighborhood. It started off with 3 houses, everybody bringing something to eat and your favorite selection of booze. It ended it with 8 houses participating, moved from one backyard to the frontyard, on someone’s driveway. It was a success, with all the neighbors getting to know each other and whose spouse belonged to whom, what everyone did, everyone clearly wasted or almost there, poker in the garage, yaeger bombs, and midnight soccer in the street between parked cars.

Of course there were the usual expected mishaps, spouses bickering, debates flairing, moms whining about kids, wives belittling husbands, someone ultimately getting soaked with liquid and of course the typical stubbed toe. One thing I did notice, I was getting too old for these shenanigans. I felt like an outsider, looking in, remembering when I thought this was sooo cool to do. I must have lost my sense of humor or grown enough white hair to assume I’ve matured in the last few months. I drank my usual (enough for a good buzz), played a little poker, got bored and said my goodnights to the group by 10:30 pm. How sad is that?