Everything is Bigger in Hong Kong.

Everything is bigger in Hong Kong. The malls are bigger, the food is bigger, even the cocks are bigger [don't ask]. Going to one of the premiere shopping places in the world is a dream come true and something I took full advantage of once I stepped on Hong Kong soil.

April 23: Leaving On a Jetplane


The flight wasn't until 7PM so I still had time to go to school to say goodbye to my friends and meet R. We went to Alabang to have lunch, then I went home so my family and I could go to the airport. The flight was only 45 minutes, but since it was already late, we settled in at Tito Michael's [a family friend] condominium in Tung Chung. It was on the 60th floor, overlooking the sea and the airport and needless to say, it was fabulous.

April 24: Hong Kong Disneyland: Here You Leave Today and Enter The World Of Yesterday, Tomorrow, and Fantasy













For more photos of my trip to Disneyland, Click Here!
Woke up early to go to Disneyland and I realized that Hong Kong is freezing cold. I didn't bring a jacket so I whipped out my 12-foot shopping list and wrote fur coat after 6-inch Manolo Blahnik heels.

Our mode of transport throughout our stay is the MTR [Mass Transit Railway]. Unlike the MRT and LRT here in the Philippines, this goes around the entire Hong Kong. Disney had its own line, so when we got down the Sunny Bay station, there was another train that brought us to Disneyland. The train was fantastic. And personalized.

I had a hard time enjoying Disneyland not only because it was big, but because there were so many fabulous things happening. Also, there were so many hot Hongkongese men [please take note that Honkie is very racial] prancing everywhere that I felt I broke my neck that day.

Walked around the entire park, watched both the theater performances [The Royal Philharmagic Orchestra's performance of the Golden Mickeys and The Festival Of The Lion King], took lots of pictures, rode almost all the rides, watched the High School Musical Live! performance and met and greeted Disney characters.

Went home late via the train. Riding the MTR was an experience because it was not uncommon to see men with Marc Jacobs glasses and girls with Gucci purses. You pay the fare with your Octopus card which is like an ATM. With it, you can pay the fare and your purchases in the grocery and 7-11.

April 25: Shopping and Not So Shopping: Not a Good Combination When You're In Hong Kong








For more photos of me shopping and not so shopping, Click Here!
Checked in at Novotel, a fabulous hotel connected to Citygate, a mall that houses Vivienne Tam, Burberry, Calvin Klein, Jill Stuart and Ralph Lauren. The mall is a five minute walk from La Rossa Condominium, where Tito Michael and his family live. I'm already missing the people in the Philippines, which is why I was happy that R has finally arrived in Hong Kong. Sadly, I forgot to activate my roaming so we couldn't contact each other.

Everybody knows that Hong Kong is shopping paradise. If Japan is known for its electronics and France for its fashion, Hong Kong definitely takes the Balenciaga bag for world-class bargain shopping.

It comes to no surprise then that on our second day, we went around Hong Kong and shopped like crazy. From Causeway Bay [think Times Square, Crawford Lane, Sogo, Windsor House, IKEA] to Mong Kok [and everything in between], I salivated over the fabulous finds that are not only easy on the pocket but great on quality.

If you look at certain photos carefully, you'd find it surprising that the prolific Mong Kok night market looks very similar to our very own Baclaran market. The only difference is, you wouldn't find redheads and blondes haggling like their lives depended on it.

I got into a fight with a saleslady while I was trying to buy a pair of boots. The pair that was on display was a 43 and it didn't fit. She was forcing us to buy it, claiming it fit, but my mom kept pressing her to get a 44. She was probably just lazy to get it from God knows where. When we finally convinced her, the 44 still didn't fit, and she was forcing us to get that pair. We asked for the next size but she got upset, claiming it fit. My mom decided to leave and the vendor threw a hissy fit, pushing me out of the stall. Of course I got pissed. Who was she to push me? I pointed at her and yelled at her not to fucking touch me. She yelled back in gibberish and my mom told her to shut up. I told her she was a bitch and she went crazy and yadi yadi yada. We left while she was screaming her head off. At the end of the day, I got a bag, two dress shirts, a jacket, Bvlgari cologne, and three shoelaces. It was sad I didn't get the boots, but what the hey.

You might also notice that a substantial amount of the photos in my Multiply are of designer boutiques and their windows. Hence, the not so shopping phrase in the title of this sub-entry. I just felt like taking pictures of their windows for the sake of posterity and to say: yeah, i've been there. Have you? Do forgive me that most of the designer pictures are blurry because I took them while I was walking. I was too embarrassed to stop and take the picture because I looked foreign enough, and I didn't want to prove that I was a tourist by whipping out my camera every 5 seconds and talking loudly in my native language.

When we got home, we walked a good half hour to the nearest 7-11 [convenience store my ass] and bought chips to eat in the hotel.

April 26: Have A Break, Have Quiksilver






For more photos of me lounging around at home, Click Here!
After an exhausting day in Disneyland and Mong Kok, I felt it was appropriate that I take a day off from everything Hong Kong. So while my mom and Tita Rose [Tito Michael's wife] went to Tsim Sha Tsui to shop, my brother and I stayed at home with Derrick and Shaine [the kids]. While Yuji and Derrick played their console games [PS2 and Wii], Shaine and I spent the day playing Monopoly, Chinese style [we bought places like Beijing and Shanghai]. We were later joined by the boys. When our moms got back, we went to Citygate to walk around. I bought flip flops from Quiksilver.

April 27: Mother's Day: H&M and Sham Shui Po Style







For more photos of me in H&M and Sham Shui Po, Click Here!
I got back on the Hong Kong track on the 4th day, but we didn't do much. We had lunch with the Tin's at Essence, Novotel's restaurant, then walked around Citygate. Bought a shirt in Calvin Klein and a dress shirt in Armani. The kids went back to the condominium and my mom and I went back to Mong Kok. Bought shoes in Adidas.

We then went to H&M where she bought a couple of stuff and Sham Shui Po so she could buy dresses. It was Mother's Day, all right. H&M style. Fashionistas around the world would be proud. I wanted to buy glasses from H&M but I was embarrassed to ask my mom after buying me designer stuff. It was too bad because the price range of the glasses were the same as the ones in People Are People.

April 28: Finding Nemo














For more photos of me in Ngong Ping and Ocean Park, Click Here!
On our last day in Hong Kong, my mom, Yuji, and I rode the Ngong Ping Cable Car 360. I rode my fair share of cable cars, but this one takes the cake. It was terrifying because you could clearly see how high you are, and yeah. It was pretty high. There is even one photo where I look like I'm thrilled, but my hands were tightly gripping the sides. We rode to Ngong Ping Village, a peaceful little village in the mountains. I was not amused because there were not many guys there. Actually, there weren't any guys. Oh, joy.

We went back to Citygate and bought some stuff from Esprit. I loved the shirt I got but the one I wanted to get was the clerk, who fortunately, I was able to take pictures of while he was ringing up purchases. After paying for our clothes [we were assisted by someone else], we went to Ocean Park.

I enjoyed the exhibits even if a lot of them were scary [the stingrays, the sharks, the jellyfish, the frogs]. I liked the dolphin show, but I sort of felt bad because I felt the dolphins rights were being violated. Imagine having to perform to get food. However, I realized that they get fed whether they perform or not. And honestly, I was more interested in feeding the guys in tights.

I love Hong Kong. The shopping, the lifestyle, the economy, and of course, the men. I know I should be ending this entry by saying no matter how much I enjoyed Hong Kong, I would still remain loyal to the Philippines. I do love the Philippines, and I am proud to say I am half-suman, but I would rather live in Hong Kong. You might say, how about your life here? What about your friends? While on the plane ride home, I was already thinking of ways how I could stuff all my belongings and my friends into one Chanel suitcase to bring to Hong Kong and of course, live happily ever after.

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

I went to Marbles with my school friends last Saturday to watch our friends gig and at the same time, have drinks and catch up after not seeing each other since class ended. It was just me and Bob who took summer classes, so we pretty much missed each other.

The highlight of that night besides all of us scraping cash from our near-empty wallets after confidently ordering tons of drinks was when G announced she was getting married. I wasn't allowed to post her name because it was going to be a secret affair. After our shock [it was more like heart-wrenching terror] subsided, we finally gave her our blessings. It actually took us 30 minutes before we could hug and congratulate her because we had to shoo our shock out of our systems before we could talk coherently. We even tried changing her mind because it was very sudden. They've only been together a couple of weeks, and they're planning to tie the knot next week on their first month together! Though I was happy for her, changing her mind made me feel funny. Finding out she was getting married forced me to realize that I will never have that privilege.

Getting married has always been one of my dreams. Tying the knot with the man I love in a big church is probably one of my biggest fantasies. I always imagined myself married, living together in a humble flat somewhere in Rockwell with a daughter who has a penchant for high heels and mink coats. Sadly, certain circumstances prevent me from wearing a futuristic ball gown by John Galliano and shoes from Christian Loboutin. Not that being male prevents me from strutting like one of Betsey Johnson's models. My body is just not built to wear a backless dress.

Kidding aside, it just makes me sad. Frankly, I got a little jealous when G was telling me about her plans. For me, marriage is the clincher to a fairy tale. I know I'm pretty young to even think about it, but I already want to settle down. Bff Arvin even told me that I am the only person he knows who is excited about getting married. Come to think of it, it's true. Most 19 year olds are still afraid of commitment, much more having a baby or a 24-carat diamond ring tying them down. I'd like to believe that I've already experienced everything I'm supposed to experience before getting tired of this cat-and-mouse game. And I am tired. I also believe that a guy asking me to marry him is the biggest sign of security. That I would be loved and taken care of forever. It doesn't necessarily have to end that way because I'm realistic enough to know that the chances of that happening is one in a million.

On my way home, I was still thinking about marriage. Not G's, but mine. Yes, I will never have the privilege of getting married [not in this country, anyway], but then I thought to myself, I don't need to have a ceremony to prove my love for someone. Having a priest legally announce us man and husband won't make our relationship better. Just because we're not married doesn't mean our love won't be as real. Thinking about it, the ceremony is just a formality. I don't need to wear a Galliano couture masterpiece to live happily ever after.

Though it would help. Owning a John Galliano piece would definitely make me happy. Deliriously happy. Having those Loboutin shoes wouldn't hurt either.

Where would you like me to put your high-brow? Up your ass or in your face?

I had to run errands today so I asked Bob and Kathy to accompany me to Alabang. One of the errands was to go to Powerbooks and renew my powercard, and at the same time, I had to see which books I was going to get in their VIP sale next week. I wanted to make a list of the books so that when the sale comes, all I need to do is ask them to get it for me and I can pay right away.

While writing the titles down, a thought struck me. I remember a thread I started on an online dating site where booklovers could get together to talk about their favorite books. I was hoping that gay people could meet as a group not to have an orgy but to discuss different authors and their works. It became a hit [I guess a lot of gay men were tired of the usual wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am], but I remember getting upset at the first person who posted. I don't remember who he was, but he made a snide remark about how he hoped it would be a real book club where they could talk about high-brow literature.

I don't remember how he phrased his statement, but it was just as clear. He doesn't like pop lit because he thinks it's trash. Actually, the thread got stellar ratings because of what he posted, and everybody ganged up on him and he never posted again. Currently, the thread is running without me [I had a lot of things on my plate that I neglected the thread altogether] and it's very successful.

Oddly, there are a lot of people who think that pop lit is trash. I swear, somebody even agreed with the asshole and called it pedestrian. Which is really weird because literature is literature. It's one and the same. What differs is that it's either well-written, or badly written. And I believe that just because a book is badly written doesn't mean it's not worth reading. Unlike badly written books, I don't know why those people call pop lit trash. I mean, it's popular because it's good, right? And come on, it's popular for a reason.

I don't understand why some people think they're better than others because they read Leo Tolstoy. I have no clue why they lambast those people who read Coelho's or Rowling's books. Maybe they think they're all that because they could get through half of Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time. To tell you the truth, I know a lot of people who read classics so people would think they're intellectuals. I also know that they're nothing but pretentious S.O.B.s. I'm not saying that everyone who reads Hawkings works is pretentious. They're not. I'm just pointing out those who think they're better because they read "high-brow" lit. I bet even before Anna Karenina became a classic, it was considered pop lit as well.

Who cares if you don't read Virginia Woolf or Umberto Eco? Let them eat cake. To quote my world lit professor: ano naman ang gagawin mo kung may bagong kotse sila, o may bagong cellphone? Eh kung pangit sila, so? Basta ikaw maganda, okay na yun. [Why should you care if they have a new car or a new cellphone? If they're ugly, so? As long as you're prettier, then it's okay.] Of course I'm not serious about this. I was just injecting humor into an otherwise boring piece. But you get my point, right?

So today, while I was writing down the titles of the books I was going to get, I wasn't afraid to announce to everyone that I was going to get copies of Paulo Coelho's and Bob Ong's books. Why should I care? To each his own.

So if ever you find yourself at the R section looking for Rowling, don't mind those people sniggering because they're reading Ayn Rand. If they look like toads, just flip your pretty locks and go on browsing. If you have enough guts, you can even go up to them and ask where they want you put their high brow. Up their ass or in their face?

Fucker.

I had one of my attacks today. I can't really explain what it is, but it usually happens when I get very frustrated. I actually had one last night too, and it was not pretty. It's one of those times when you feel helpless and you want to do something but you can't, because you don't know what to do. Last night I just cried it off and thankfully, I fell asleep. I had a hard time trying to sleep that I was close to getting valiums from my friends. I was so desperate that I was considering swallowing enough tabs to knock me out till next week. I was in such bad shape that I wanted to kill myself to see how people would react. Maybe then I'd know who really cares.

I hate R. Last Sunday he promised he would go out with me today, so I was pretty happy about it. I have summer classes [2-5 during TTHS], and he wanted to meet me in the morning after he submitted his last paper. I asked if it would be okay if we meet in the morning, and he would wait in a nearby Starbucks during my class and we could hang out again after.

We were on the phone last night, smoothing things out for today, and then he was having seconds thoughts. I got upset when he wanted to reschedule because he's not yet sure what his plans were at night. Get this, he promised he would go out with me Thursday and then he told me we had to reschedule because he still wasn't sure what his plans would be for that night. That's crazy. What made me more upset was when I remembered he told me he bends his schedule for the people he likes, and get this, even his parents have to adjust to his schedule. I got MORE upset because he said he wasn't sure about today because of something his mom planned at the last minute. Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind family affairs, but if he says even his mom adjusts to his schedule, then the fact that he can't go out with me because his mom planned something at the last minute just doesn't follow. It's plain hypocrisy.

I hate him. His classes are already over and still I have to fight for my time. It's so unfair.

You just keep on pushing my love over the borderline.

Everybody loves sales. You get to buy really expensive stuff at slashed prices and you can strut around in it, not telling people you bought it on discount. I'm actually guilty as charged. I once bought a pair of really fabulous shoes for half-price, but when friends asked how much I paid, I told them 3 grand.

Today SM Mall of Asia had a sale and Powerbooks texted me, inviting me to come over and check out their books. So after I changed my schedule for my summer class, I went straight to MOA to see what Powerbooks had.

Everybody loves sales. The problem is, everybody loves it. There were so many people that I was hardly walking in a straight line anymore. I had to zig this way, and then I had to zag that, avoiding the many people and their many shopping bags. Apparently, everyone was going crazy. And not in a good way. I'm talking frothing-in-the-mouth crazy. Sadly, I was one of them.

Even Powerbooks was unusually crowded. When I saw the prices, I didn't wonder. It was absolutely ridiculous. I bought FRONT ROW: ANNA WINTOUR [hardbound, baby!] for only 99 pesos! I was so overjoyed that I reserved copies for my fashion-inclined friends too. I also bought a copy of Marquis de Sade's 120 Days in Sodom. It was still pretty expensive [it was only 20% off], but I've been wanting to get the book so I did.

Happy with my purchases, I went around, wondering what else I could buy. I didn't have much, but I still had the money the japanese gave me, so I ended up buying 2 CDs. I was supposed to get a dress shirt, but they didn't have my size, so it sucked. I was thinking of getting a drink in Coffee Bean, but I assumed it was going to be crowded as well, what with the summer heat and all.

I was tired anyway, and the people were getting on my nerves, so I went home. I was sort of regretting it because it's a Saturday, and instead of going out with my friends, I'm here. Bff Arvin did invite me to have drinks with the fashion flock, as did my guy friends from school, but I want to be with R tonight.

I do want to go out. This morning, before I went to school, I texted Kathy, inviting her to have cocktails with me in Alabang. There's this bar that has a fabulous promo where you get a pitcher of cocktail for only 300 pesos, but she couldn't come because she was with her boyfriend. I got upset when I realized I was going to be alone tonight, because I really need company. Bff Arvin's landline is broken so I couldn't pour my grievances, and I think he's out with the fashion flock.

I think R's out with his friends too. Oh well.

I guess it's just going to be me and Anna tonight. Cheers.

Auditioning for hot guys for my sex video

I've been 19 for 2 months and yet I have accomplished nothing. I'm still not an editor, I haven't published my book, and I'm still wallowing in the dark abyss of obscurity. I think I should make a sex tape. Anyone, anyone? Ha.

Promise me you'd buy my book as soon as it hits bookstores. My carrier story is EAT ME [it's in this blog too, try searching for it]. If you've read it and actually enjoyed it without vomiting, I'm sure you'll like my book. Most of my stories would be on the same wavelength. Twisted realities. Kafkaesque. So please, support me :)

Seriously, I think I need to make a sex tape.

Geisha for rent [my mom played the subtitle]

Tonight my mom threw this dinner party as a farewell get-together for her japanese friend. I kind of got annoyed because my mom told me last minute [she told me like half an hour before they arrived], but I managed to pull a look off within 10 minutes. Luckily, I took a bath already so all I needed to do was change costumes and pile on 10 pounds of hair products.

So there we were, at the table, me, my mom, the japanese, and Santos, my mom's boyfriend. I felt kind of sorry for the japanese because he couldn't speak neither Filipino or English, so my mom took the post of translator. I may be half-sushi, but I hardly spoke japanese [though I could understand part of their conversation], and Santos is chinese.

The japanese and I got to talk about the differences between the Japanese and Filipino culture, but it was really difficult because I had to look at the Japanese while he spoke to me in gibberish, [with a smile plastered on my face, pretending I understood what he was saying], and then I had to look at my mom, who would translate. After that, I had to answer to the Japanese, which my mom would translate after. I felt silly because I had no idea whether to speak in English or in Filipino [I chose English to be polite], because either way, he wouldn't be able to understand what I was saying. I wanted to laugh because the conversation was like a typical Chinese movie. The japanese and I were the characters and my mom was the subtitle. All throughout the meal I was hoping my mom and Santos would leave for a while [a convenient excuse, say for example, a hippo from the Avalon Zoo escaped and ate the car], and then I would say something insensate to the Japanese and see how he would respond. For example:

Koji: Kumekemelar eclavou chenelyn chenelyn de kimberlin chenes. [I would gesticulate with my hands to simulate telling a story]

the japanese: [i have no idea how he would react, but here is my educated guess] hai, hai, sanyo, fujitsu, nintendo, wii [though i guess he would just nod and smile and pretend he got what i meant]

So while I was trying hard not to choke on the gravy, I willed myself not to laugh out loud, and tried to focus on what he was saying. While I was waiting for my mom to begin translating, I thought about how hard it must have been for him, being the only person at the table who couldn't speak the native language. If I were to have dinner with a foreigner friend and his family, I would be paranoid as hell if they started speaking their language, most especially if they laughed.

I was glad when the dinner ended [boy, he took his time eating], because they left right after. Despite my feeling sorry for him [pity is too strong a word], I really like him. He's a great guy. After the meal, he handed me some money. I don't know. He must have thought I was a geisha or something.

It's too late to apologize, yadi yadi yada.

I stayed in Holiday Inn last Sunday and I kind of hoped [more of expected] that R would ask me out since I was nearer to him compared to Las Pinas. Despite my regrettable breakdown last night, I was surprised at how well I handled the situation when he didn't.

I ended up spending the following Monday sunbathing by the pool and getting an uneven tan. While I was making sure every crevice of my body was evenly burned like french toast, I made a conclusion. I know this sounds weird, but I owe a lot to the guys that I dated. Though none of them obviously worked out, I still owe them a lot. I learned a lot from those assholes that broke my heart, and now I know how to react to certain situations.

Now if only I could sunbathe like a pro. I don't think wriggling around like a dying fish is the proper way to tan.