Tuesday, February 15, 2005

I'm a Coward, Crazy, Picky, Gay Man


I was recently interviewed by a nice reporter for the local newspaper (Lodi News-Sentinel). Why? Well, it seems like I'm one of a few (OK, so there might be just the two of us. Who's the other? I don't know either) local bloggers. Before typing anything else, I would like to thank Tricia for an exceptional job and warm voice. We did the interview via phone. Little did she know that I was only wearing my blue boxers and occassionally "scratched" down there a few times while we were talking. Hope she doesn't feel violated after learning of this minor detail.

The interview went well. I think. I wish I could have said something like with regards to "world peace" or whatever else is PC. Instead of a lot of umms and ahhs. Also, I had a lot of things in mind to mention but they never came up. Things that would make me sound so demure and wise. Oh, well.

At the end of the interview, Tricia (the reporter) asked if I would like to have my picture taken. Immediately, I said somewhere along the line of, "Sure! But aren't you worried I might break the camera?" (insert friendly laughter) As soon as I uttered those words, I just realized the commitment I aggreed to. Yikes! For three days, I loomed over the fact that my picture would be in the paper. For each passing day, I got more nervous. What the hell was I thinking? Being interviewed was one thing but slapping a pic of myself with it is another story.

I love my city. Lodi, California. Wine Country. It has a small town mentality. Get my drift? Do I even have to mention that this is Bush Country? So imagine, the people of Lodi, CA reading this small article concerning local bloggers with me and the other blogger's pic with our respective urls. Now imagine them reading the contents of my blog then glancing back at the pic on the paper, etc. Don't get me wrong, I'm very open about myself. I just shudder with the thought of people looking at me.

So I emailed Tricia stating that I didn't want to have my pic taken after all. I know, I know.


It's lent season. As a Catholic, I gave up something for 40 days and 40 nights. I don't know why. I haven't been to church for a great while. The last time I went was when I had to take a picture with my family for our church's 100th year anniversary. Anyway, I gave up eating rice. No big deal for you guys but for a Filipino, an asian (pacific islander my ass!) it's a hard and crazy thing to do!

I don't know what I was thinking. Rice, I practically eat it with every meal! I've told my friends and they too think that I'm out of my mind. They even said that I'm not going to last the whole time. To tell you the truth, I don't think I can either. The second non-rice night, I had a dream of gorging myself with pots and pots of white rice! It doesn't help either when I'm surrounded by steamed rice every day I come home. It's funny how your nose picks up the scent of something you haven't eaten in a while with great intensity. I've caught myself drifting over to the rice cooker and just inhaling deeply. But I've persevered and I'm determined to finish. I just hope my friends understand why I constantly snap at them.


Last Saturday, a few of my friends went to the local gay bar. Played pool. Had a shot. Drank a few beers. Danced. And unfortunately, I was hit on. It was like a drive by flirting. It was nice to know that you're being lusted after. YES! I STILL GOT IT! The only thing that bothered me was that as soon as he opened his mouth, I smelled garlic! HINT: BREATHMINTS! Or even gum! I had to hold my breath while we talked. I think he decided that I wasn't 'good' enough for him when I started to turn purple.

Who in their right mind would eat something garlicy before going out to a bar/club with the intent of meeting someone? The first thing that pops into my head would be, "I am not going to put my penis in that mouth!" or maybe, "I wonder if he ate corn?" What can I say, I like a fresh breath and for my penis to smell clean.


'Coz I still like penis.