Some of the most bloggable conversations I had with friends in the last three years. Allow me to repost them.
WITH MEAN CINEASTES
My friends from the university and I were playing Charades and the theme was movie titles. When an opponent drew Little Nicky, we thought it was a giveaway.
So when he started acting it out for his team, for the first word, he just levelled his palm at his hips and his team shouted Little right away. Hmmm. But Nicky was something less easy.
One of our team members was Monique, also known as Nikki. Monique is not the skinny type. She’s a bit, er… not the skinny type. It didn’t come as a surprise to us when the player who was acting out pointed to Nikki for the second word.
What we didn’t expect was when someone from his team shouted: “Pig? Little Pig?”
And they call me mean? Haha.
WITH A FOREVER-NAIVE FRIEND
A simple talk with a young friend (my ex’s brother) who was so unsure about how he felt.
Ken: How do you know if you’re in love?
Yoshke: I don’t think there are definite standard symptoms. You just know. That’s it. You just know. Why? Are you in love?
Ken: I don’t know.
Yoshke: You’re not in love.
Ken: What makes you so sure?
Yoshke: Cos you don’t know.
WITH MY HALF-FRENCH PSEUDO-BROTHER
This convo I had with Josh on our way to FC Gloria’s Canteen for lunch after our French class the day before my birthday.
Josh: You already got a copy of Kitchie Nadal’s album?
Yoshke: No. But I borrowed a friend’s and listened to it last night.
Josh: How was it? You liked it?
Yoshke: One big NO. I only liked a couple of tracks. The record is rubbish.
Josh: Oh, don’t be so cruel on her. You’d probably appreciate the album more if you listen to it a little longer.
Yoshke: I don’t think so. Only a couple of songs really appealed to me.
After lunch, he handed me something in a white plastic bag.
Josh: Here. It’s my present. Happy birthday. But don’t open it yet. Open it after I leave.
Yoshke: Why? Is it some kind of a bomb or something?
Josh: No. Just open it when I’m gone. Trust me on this one. Happy Birthday.
So, he left and I opened the package and *SURPRISE SURPRISE*
It was Kitchie Nadal’s album. Aaaaw.
WITH A FEMINISM GODDESS
While at Seatle’s Best Katipunan, Tricia and I were talking about how I would always portray women as evil and pathetic in my films. She’s a cold-blooded feminist, by the way.
Yoshke: It’s not that I hate women but if there’s a need for an evil or bad character in my films and I have a choice between a man and a woman, I’ll make sure it’s the woman.
Tricia: And why is that?
Yoshke: Cos I love men. Duh?
What’s with me and my friends’ brothers?
I know I promised myself not to fall for a friend but I seem to always end up dating my friends’ brothers. Hahaha. You can say that the first time is normal. The second, coincidence. But the third?
That’s a trend.
Or as one friend puts it, a “fetish.”
But no! No, no, no. It’s not like I intend to go out with guys who share the same DNA with my friends anyway. It’s just that, I don’t know. It just happens.
Funny because the friend always has no idea about the brother’s sexuality. Ah, they’re so straight. Or so it seems. You wouldn’t suspect he’s playing for the federation. The friend thinks we don’t talk. Or that the longest conversation we have had is “Hey, where’s your sister/brother?” When, in fact, we have been going out.
The sad thing is that we don’t really get there. But here I go again.
And oh, if you’re a friend, you better start interrogating your brothers. Hahaha. Squeeze ‘em hard! You might see him spitting out something. I don’t know. Something precious, maybe. Like gold. (Yeah, that’s a clue.)
Oh, he’s gonna kill me for this. Haha.
Status: Coz I try and try to walk away, but I know this crush ain’t goin’ away…
Music: Crush - David Archuleta
*Don’t cross: Deadly.

Another short conversation with a friend over Yahoo Messenger.
Yoshke: Done reading?
Robin: Aye aye. Sweet. Mushy.
Yoshke: Should I say “Thanks?”
Robin: lol. How come all your short, short, short stories are about friends falling in love?
Yoshke: NOT ALL. Just the ones I post on my blog.
Robin: Tell me, are you in love with a friend?
Yoshke: No. ![]()
Robin: Don’t tell me it’s me.
Yoshke: Whoah, is it just me or it really turned windy here in cyberspace?
Robin: Windy in cyberspace? You’re crazy.
Yoshke: And you’re presumptuous! Assuming much?
Robin: So why the fascination?
Yoshke: I just love writing about it but it doesn’t mean I’m in that predicament.
Robin: You’re in love with a friend. Who is it?
Yoshke: I am not.
Robin: Do I know him?
Yoshke: I am not in love with anyone.
Robin: One of your college friends? Office friends?
Yoshke: I will never be in love with a friend. I can’t be.
Robin: Oh, it’s one of those little rules you impose on yourself.
Yoshke: Yeah. And you know, when I like someone, I tell him right off.
Robin: Whore.
Yoshke: I meant, I don’t befriend someone just because I like him. Because once the friendship is drawn, there’s no crossing the line for me.
Robin: What if he’s the one to cross the line? /:]
Yoshke: A speeding truck will run him over. =))
Robin: lol
Yoshke: You see, next to family, I value friendships the most. And I don’t wanna screw it up just so I could be in a romantic relationship when I can just fall in love with someone else with which there’s no friendship to screw up.
Robin: Man, you ARE in love with a friend.
Yoshke: I am not! And I’m signing out if you say it again.
Robin: You’re in love with a friend.
I am not. Never have been. Never will be. I SWEAR.
…
Note: Blogger’s original work. Don’t plagiarise. To those who would dare, as Ayn says it, may the wrath of heaven and earth fall upon you. This is fiction. Please see legal and ethical reminders on the sidebar. Thanks very much.
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7 missed calls.
When I saw this flashed on my cellphone screen this morning, I knew my day would end this way. In a walk along this road connecting the college to Commonwealth Avenue. With you.
It’d been a while.
“How have you been?” Your voice was a bit shaky. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were nervous.
“Great,” I answered with a slice across my lower face. “And you? How’s London?”
“Well, it’s still London.” A slight laughter went through your lips.
And then, silence. I tried to come up with something to say to keep the conversation flowing but I couldn’t. I just felt I didn’t know you anymore. After two years of being away, I felt like nothing was ever the same with you.
You rebooted the conversation. “I want to tell you something.”
“Go ahead.”
You paused. Seemed hesitant to say it. “I’m leaving again. Next week. For good.”
“For Brisbane, I know. For what it’s worth, Australia is nearer than UK.”
“Yeah.”
And then, there was silence again. We were walking much more slowly than usual. I felt like I didn’t want to reach the end of this road.
“I want to tell you something.”
“You already told me.”
We reached the end of the road.
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I spent weeks trying to figure out the password to an email account that I had set up two years ago. It was an account especially created for all work-related top-secret files that my colleagues and I kept back then. I was the only one who knew the password. And none of my neurons could remember it. The only thing I was sure of: my password is usually the name of someone I love — Nicole Kidman, Francois Truffaut, Christian Bale, Miroslav Klose…
A password-resetting email was sent to my secondary email address. The problem was, it was already inactive. So I was forced to answer a security question:
What is your pet’s name?
Silly me. I never had a pet. Ever. Damn. I don’t know why I chose this security question in the first place. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
For many nights, I tried to come up with pet names that I might have possibly used as my password. None worked. It was only minutes ago when, out of utter frustration, I typed in “YOSHKE.”
Bingo. It opened. So much for being a UP graduate, cum laude.
I immediately rummaged through my mailbox and found the file I was looking for. Downloaded it. Opened it. But to my surprise, another “Enter password” bullshit popped up. Not again, I thought.
And then, you crossed my mind. Just like that. You crossed my mind. Reluctantly, I typed in something — your name. My fingers spelled it correctly. Yep, the file opened.
Good thing I thought of you first.
Right now, my fingers are still stammering your name. They used to shout it out loud. Two years ago.
I’ve had many passwords after you.
.
.
Now I wish I hadn’t remembered the second password.
Status: I’m gonna smile coz I deserve to.
Music: Better in Time / Yesterday / Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis
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Last night, I was locked out of the house again. (I know, my silly keys are so stupid they like to stay inside while I’m out.) As I was waiting for my roommate, I started thinking about the men I have had an emotional connection with since I came out in college. While many of these guys I still see and hang out with every once in a while, some of them I haven’t had a chance to talk with in a very long time.
I also realised one thing: I’m not a fan of second chances. When a part of something is messed up, I tend to throw it all away. Hahaaaay.
Anyway, here are the things I want to say to these people whom I want to thank for making me feel happy for a period, albeit very short. (I’m sorry, I will not drop names. Haha.)
- O - -
No two men could be closer than we have been. You taught me a lot of things. You opened my mind to a multitude of new ideas and experiences. We were friends. We still are. People ask me if we had something romantic going on back then. I don’t know. I certainly did not think we had more than friendship although there were too many times you made me feel that I was more than a friend. They say that not knowing is the worst feeling in the world. But in this case, I’m happy not knowing if we really had something. I loved what we had, whatever it was.
- - A - -
Why? What happened to us?
- - - E - -
You brought me the most intense pain. You say you suck at saying sorries? Even if you did apologise earlier, I don’t think it would have made a difference. Sometimes, sorry doesn’t make things better. Sometimes, sorry is just plain annoying.
- E - - -
You are sooo last year. We had it. We lost it. We’ll see each other again this weekend and I hope there will be no damaging awkwardness.
- - - O
I’m sorry I lied when you asked me. Try again. Please try again.
- O - - - -
Maybe one day. But not today. Not anytime soon.
A - - - -
You have no idea. You have no idea.
- - A - - -
Just hang in there. Don’t disappear.
- - - I -
Maybe it was just really a bad time. I have made up my mind. I will not wait. I know I said I would but I changed my mind. I ain’t going to. Anyway, we’re good.
image courtesy of pro.corbis.com
Status: keep bleeding love.
Music: Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis, Love Song - Sara Bereilles
I know Dohna has already posted this video on her blog but I just want to share this to my readers, too. This is sooooo cute. Watch it now, now, NOW!!!
My Gawd! Life is so unfair! That little boy has a friggin’ love life?!?! And I? Ugh, I’d rather not mention. Haha.
Anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!
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Uhm, basically, the title says everything I have to say. *blush*
PS. Crush lang naman. Petty infatuation. ^_^


