Warm Up With Cardio, Then Go To Weights. Right? Wrong.

Warm Up With Cardio, Then Go To Weights. Right? Wrong.

Flashback: The Day I lost my Virginity

Many would find this a story of make believe. But I don't care, because this was my true-to-life story that only I can retell. It was April 18, 1994, right after lunch, in the middle of cassava fields, my first taste of same sex experience happened. It was the day that I lost my virginity.

Barangay Magtangale is one of the 11 barangays in my hometown, Anao-aon, in the west coast of Surigao del Norte province. This remotest barangay in the south section of the town's land area was the venue for my cousin's wedding that day. It was one summer after my first year in college. The first time I went out after I personally embraced my homosexuality. Yet not totally and openly declared to my whole clan that I am gay. I still stayed reserved, although with obvious hints, in their front.

I remembered wearing a tight-fitted jeans then, with a loose white with brown-striped shirt, when I along with cousins readied the lunch tables while waiting for the newly-weds to surface from the church's rite. As I tended the long-stretched plated food servings, shooing off the flies, cats and dogs alike, from the area, one teenage boy approached me declaring that someone find me sexy and beautiful. Wow! It was my first time to hear a man, named Joval, admired my gayness and exotic beauty. I felt flattered. Afterall it was my 18th year, my supposed debut, as most teenage girls celebrate upon reaching the age; I am therefore entitled to some come-of-age pageantry. I can not remember if I discarded the thought and shooed the messenger away or I giggled and expressed gratefulness to this Joval through him.

The newlyweds arrived along with all the guests and occupied the tables we set. Everyone's in complete business and jubilation as the traditional wedding rituals started. I busied myself coming in and out and around the food tables to refill food servings. Then the messenger came back and told me Joval wanted a talk, pointing to one of the rooms in the adjacent nipa house. I shivered at the thought of talking to a man I barely knew in a room, in the prospect of same sex escapade, in front of many people who might knew me and might relay the scene to my family, most especially to my father. My father, the "senior" as I am the mistaken "junior"; but I did not regret to be named such. And during those times, the prospect of gay talking to a man or even just a boy connotes something fishy and was totally tabooed.

I don't know what level of curiousity besat me, or maybe because the boy was very demanding for a yes as an answer, I abandoned my post and followed him. I told him that we should be somewhere far from the crowd. I was naive back then that proposing to be in secluded areas meant that I am really into the sex adventure. We introduced each other. Joval declared that he's from Butuan City, a two-hour drive to the south from our very own Surigao City. He's tall, dark and handsome. It flattered me more to have such an admirer. But then it happened so fast, I can not even remember if he courted me and I said yes, but that he started kissing my neck while unzipping his maong pants. My heart pumped so fast that it overwhelmed all my senses. I seemed numbed and electricuted. He grabbed my head and pulled it toward his groin. I fought back by twisting my head away from his lengthening penis. I am afraid of snakes and merely looking at long pointing dick is enough to look like a exotic brown snake, minus the forked tongue. I guessed the idea of sucking huge dick would suffocate me and kill me, much more Joval's huge endowment.

He sensed that I won't suck so he grabbed my waist, turned me over my back against him, forced my pants down. I initially did not react, it perhaps intrigued me the feeling of being fucked like a girl, only from behind. I positioned myself on a big rock, my two hands wrapped around the edges. But as he aimed his length and pushed it in my virgin back opening, I felt an extreme pain. I cried and I fought back, unwrapped my two hands from the stone and pushed Joval's groin away from my butt, and shouted "ouch, please stop!" But he is so strong!

The cassava plants standing 3 feet tall have witnessed my initiation, or shall I call it, hazing. This vast greenfields served as an accomplice as it silenced my cry before it reached the nearest community. The waterfalls as our backdrop no longer an attraction because its noise might have contributed to the susceptibility and conduciveness of the area for sex crime and I was the first victim. I thought of running while shouting and crying for pain but thought better of it; it will only expose me to the public that I engaged in a tabooed sexual activity. As I rethought my moves, Joval successfully inserted his almost 8-inch penis in my painfully burning anus. I cried hard and loud but he inserted his left palm into my mouth while thrusting fast and hard. I tried to free myself using my hands but the teenage messenger helped and cuffed my two hands with his hands. I felt my stomach heaving and pushed up and down by the huge snake-like muscle. It was not a good feeling! And I did not enjoy it. I knew I bit Jovals hands hard many times along the rhythm of his pushes and my cries that can be misconstrued as moans. Until finally he reached the climax and quivered and exploded.

I felt relieved when Joval relaxed. It was however an unpleasant view when he pulled out his maleness from my insides, the unrecognizable penis was crowned with mixtures of yellow shit, white sperm and red bloods. I feared the messenger will take over and jump on me, but maybe because of the disgusting aftermath scene, his urge along with his penis shrunk.

I escaped the scene immediately, zipped my pants, re-tucked in my shirt, wiped away my tears and sweats and came out of the cassava plantation, as if nothing happened. But the butt pain was excruciating, more so when I climbed my way up the top load of the jeepney on our way home. And the bumpy ride due to a very rough road exacerbated the feeling, and maybe even the laceration. There was indeed a laceration in my butt's canal; I saw blood in my shirt when I changed upon reaching home. The pain stayed on for a week. It did traumatize me that I avoid mroe anal penetration. From then on, I learned to suck dicks.

What was the best thing that happened during the experience was that I proved to everyone that having same sex activities did not always involved money. That beauty, no matter how exotic, counts. I don't have to pay for males to have anal or oral sex with me. The day that I lost my virginity is entirely and totally FREE. Though I did not enjoy it, but it was an unforgettable experience I did have during my debut year.

What happened to Joval after that? I don't know. He might have catched gonorrhea for the anus is full of bad bacteria and he used no condom that time. Well, of course, I hope he's fine. It was 17 years ago, yes too long ago, but I remembered it right. As always...

Flashback: My High School Life

Remembering high school life, now that I am old adult, made me realize and appreciate the struggle of adolescence. The need to define oneself amidst peer pressure. The desire to belong despite the lifestyle differences. The dream to love and be loved in return although queer and tabooed.

I am the third son of a farmer. When my father rested from driving, which I did not know for sure whether there was no more slot in the fleet he was once part of or he was finally resolved to go back to farming, we relocated to the farm he was entrusted to as peasant. We kept our house along the highway, but we basically live in the farm. He built a small nipa hut enough to accommodate the four of us: Papa, Mama, my younger sister, En, and me. My two older brothers were in Tacloban City; the eldest found the job in an automotive mechanic shop, and the second followed to study in college there.

Living in the farm was a struggle. My little sister and myself were at the age when we wanted to play with other children. It was different when we were in the bigger house along the highway and close to neighbors; it was easy to slip every afternoon to spend an hour or two playing with fellow children in the community. Spending a day in the middle of the rice fields, was all about school, study, and farm works. During school days, we donned our uniform and walk along the paddies to the main road and to school. Then back the same way in the afternoon. Sometimes, we spent weekends at the bigger house and got to play with friends and neighbors. But most of the time, I buried myself into studying with oil lamps because the electricity had only reached the highway.

I learned to be brave here. Whenever I heard the quacking sound at dusk, my father would bring me outside to see the birds which made the sound. It refuted my childhood fear of witch and other monsters. When I did the errands during sundown, crossing the farm to the main road to buy stuff, I could still goosebumps. I just sang loudly to ward off that tingling sensation, to keep my hairs on my nape from standing. This strategy had granted me plenty of chances to play with other kids before going straight home after classes.

The most exciting thing in the farm for me was the harvest time. It was the season where lands are dry, the rice fields turn yellow to brown, and sugared dough with iced candy were served. After the harvest, we filled our bigger house with rice grain. Then we dried them along the highway.

As adolescent, it was shameful already to be poor, and it was more embarrassing to be seen by classmates and friends spreading nets and mats along the road, hoisting bags of rice here and there to spread them to dry. Then shooing off intruding chickens and birds. Then whenever the sun was out, or rain was coming, I helped to keep the rice, bag them again, and lift them all back to the house. I was yet to define myself that time, I knew that I was different, queer! and lifting and hoisting bags of rice had deepened the uncertainty. On the other hand, acting like most boys, strong, and muscled had kept me in the closet.

In remote places, like my hometown, being gay is a curse, a demon inside, tabooed. At home, I was the second man in the house, I was my father's namesake, and expected to be like him. "There was no gaymen in the family," he always claimed. So I stayed in the closet my whole high school years. I joined the Reserved Officer Training Course (ROTC) and went to become one of the officers. But my queerness was obvious for some bullies. The painful thing was that I was teased and paired to one of the beautiful girls in our class but my eyes was set to one of the heartthrobs in my circle of friends. Only now that I can declare that "I love the girl but I like the boy!" Queer, right? 

Lovelife was not a priority. The boys in my class had girlfriends, either with girls from our class or higher or lower classes. I focused on my studies and busied myself with extra-curricular activities. I started in the Catholic Youth Ministry at that early age. It was in this community that I found my true self, not bullied, no prejudices, and no restrictions. I can express myself in every way, conferences, prayers, even dances. Although still a Closet Queen, but I found myself useful, appreciated, and liberated. 

My travel itch was triggered and got my first series of travels. Long before, the road to the nearest city was far. With several extra curricular activities, Surigao City has come closer and closer every time. Overnight gatherings and weeklong conventions were normally held in the city. Then I went to Siargao Island for more conventions. It made me honed my leadership skills, my interpersonal charisma, and showcased my full talents in speaking, singing, and dancing.

I finished my high school with colors, I should say. Every end of the 4 years, I made my parent proud to have them stand at centerstage to pin ribbon or don me medals. My high graduation was grander, I earned nine medals, making my father and mother come up the stage for several times.

Para Kanino ang MMDA Footbridge?

"ANG TATAWID DITO, PATAY!" maybe is the appropriate MMDA signage to warn all Filipinos of the danger in crossing the highways. The signages I knew are properly placed in selected center islands but I believe it would be better place at most densely populated areas.

I live in Commonwealth, Quezon City, at the infamous Manggahan. It is where the killer highway (Commonwealth) stretched so long and so wide from the QC Memorial Circle to Fairview. The whole curve of this highway is highly populated; where most subdivisions, most crossings, big wet markets, huge supermarkets, crowded squatters are situated. Long before its notoriety, a couple of footbridges were provided for commuters to safely cross the street; one was in Philcoa, another in Central Avenue, more in Montessori, Ever Gotesco, Batasan, Commonwealth Market and in Litex. When the total widening of the said highway happened, footbridges are rehabilitated, elongated and replicated in numbers. One even can wonder why need to put up these bridges in short distances from each other. For example, there are five footbridges within the short stretched of COA to Litex; I can not tell of it's just a kilometer long. But considering that there are 5 is more than enough. Why? Maybe to accommodate everyone since this is one densely populated area, 2 or 3 can not handle the crowd. But basically this is for the safety of everyone. No longer to cross the ground with all types of transport pass brazenly.

But behold, still plenty of people cross the ground, daring the fast traffic of buses, jeepneys, cars. They never respect the traffic advisories. They never follow traffic rules. How much more if the signages says like the following:

Just this morning on my way to the office, I noticed a newscaster and a cameraman on her heels approached the people crossing the highway along Commonwealth Market and asked them why they did not use the footbridge. I saw some men just shook their heads. From the window of the bus I rode I can tell that these people never really care. They don't care about anything even themselves, their safety, the hassles they brought to the motorists. They do not even understand why they do that. They are STUPID! UNEDUCATED! IGNORANT! And these traits are not of humans but of ANIMALS, like STRAY DOGS!

And so maybe the best MMDA signage should bear "ANG TATAWID DITO PAPATAYIN!" Many have been reported accidents related to pedestrian crossing the street on the ground but still many of us dare doing it over and over again. So I guess, we need more concrete examples, people crossing the street should be

I believe Filipinos are educated, so we can read and write. Simple traffic signages are readable and comprehensible. We are just lazy! Lazy to walk the extra meters towards the footbridges, lazy to exercise our feet climbing ladders of the footbridges, lazy to move our bodies even through the aid of these bridges. That is why Filipinos are prone to heart attacks, heart-related diseases, lazy-type-related illnesses... and even died of STUPIDITY.

Use of MMDA footbridges has plenty of benefits, from safety to healthy human being. Moreover, let us USE it because we PAY for it.

What's with my Real Name?

What Crisanto Gastardo Jr means? I did not question this until I encountered birthday calculator and a link popped up with the subject question.

The numerology tells the following:


There are 18 letters in your name.
Those 18 letters total to 77
There are 6 vowels and 12 consonants in your name.


Your number is: 5
The characteristics of #5 are: Expansiveness, visionary, adventure, the constructive use of freedom.
The expression or destiny for #5:
The number 5 Expression endows with the wonderful characteristic of multi-talents and versatility. You can do so many things well. The tone of the number 5 is constructive freedom, and in your drive to attain this freedom, you will likely be the master of adaptability and change. You are good at presenting ideas and knowing how to approach people to get what you want. Naturally, this gives you an edge in any sort of selling game and spells easy success when it comes to working with people in most jobs. Your popularity may lead you toward some form of entertainment or amusement. Whatever you do, you are clever, analytical, and a very quick thinker.

If there is too much of the 5 energy in your makeup, you may express some the negative attitudes of the number. Your restless and impatient attitude may keep you from staying with any project for too long. Sometimes you can be rather erratic and scatter yourself and your energies. You have a hard time keeping regular office hours and maintaining any sort of a routine. You tend to react strongly if you sense that your freedom of speech or action is being impaired or restricted in any way. As clever as you are, you may have a tendency to make the same mistakes over and over again because much of your response is glib reaction rather that thoughtful application. You are in a continuous state of flux brought by constantly changing interests.



Your Soul Urge number is: 6

A Soul Urge number of 6 means:

With a number 6 Soul Urge, you would like to be appreciated for your ability to handle responsibility. Your home and family are likely to be a strong focus for you, perhaps the strongest focus of your life. Friendship, love, and affection are high on your list of priorities for a happy life. You have a lot of diplomatic tendencies in your makeup, as you a able to rectify and balance situations with an innate skill. You like working with people rather than by yourself. It is extremely important for you to have harmony in your environment at all times.
The positive side of the 6 Soul Urge produces a huge capacity for responsibility; you are always there and ready to assume more than your share of the load. If you possess positive 6 Soul Urges and express them, you are known for your generosity, understanding and deep sympathetic attitude. Strong 6 energy is very giving of love, affection, and emotional support. You may have the inclination to teach or serve your community in other idealistic ways. You have natural abilities to help people. You are also likely to have artistic and creative leanings.

Your Inner Dream number is: 8
An Inner Dream number of 8 means:
You dream of success in the business or political world, of power and control of large material endeavors. You crave authority and recognition of executive skills. Your secret self may have very strong desire to become an entrepreneur.


So this is me! And so is my father, the Sr. I actually observed most of the abovementioned traits in him.

1 . 9 . 1 9 7 6 ?

9 January 1976 is the date of my birth.

I did not know what that day like. Of course, my parents and my older brothers would know. But I did not bother asking them about it. So I resort to numerology; with the aid of the birthday calculator, I learned many things about that date - on the day I was born.

1. My conception was on or about 18 April 1975 which was a Friday.
2. I was born on a Friday under the astrological sign Capricorn.
3. My life path number is 6 (?).
4. My fortune cookie read: Decide what you want and go for it.
5. The Julian calendar date of my birth is 2442786.5
6. The year 1976 was a leap year, which golden number is 1 and the epact number is -1.

7. I was born in the Chinese year of the Rabbit, which year began at 2/11/1975 and ended at 1/30/1976. 2011 is a Year of the Rabbit.
8. My Native American Zodiac sign is Goose (so noisy!); my plant is Bramble (so thorny!).
9. I was born in the Egyptian month of Famenoth, the third month of the season of Poret (Emergence - Fertile soil).
10. My date of birth on the Hebrew calendar is 8 Shevat 5736 or that if I was born after sundown then the date is 9 Shevat 5736.

11. The Mayan Calendar long count date of my birthday is 12.18.2.9.2 which is 12 baktun 18 katun 2 tun 9 uinal 2 kin.
12. The Hijra (Islamic Calendar) date of my birth is Friday, 7 Muharram 1396 (1396-1-7).
13. The date of Easter on my birth year was Sunday, 18 April 1976. The date of Orthodox Easter on my birth year was Sunday, 25 April 1976. FYI, my Christening day was during the baptism of fire and water at Easter Eve.
14. As of 4/5/2011 10:02:06 PM EDT, I am 35 years old or 423 months old or 1,839 weeks old or 12,870 days old, or 308,902 hours old, or 18,534,122 minutes old, or 1,112,047,326 seconds old.
15. Celebrities who share my birthday are A.J. McLean (1978), Jimmy Page (1944), Bob Denver (1935), Dave Matthews (1967), Joan Baez (1941), Crystal Gayle (1951), Susannah York (1941). Notice that most of them are into music, acting; only President Nixon was into politics. Mind you, I have potentials of a singer, an actor or a politician.
16. Top songs of 1976 were Tonight's the Night by Rod Stewart, Silly Love Songs by Wings, Don't Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John & Kiki Dee, Disco Lady by Johnnie Taylor, Play The Funky Music by Wild Cherry, December, 1963 (Oh What a Night) by Four Seasons, 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover by Paul Simon, Kiss and Say Goodbye by Manhattans, Love Hangover by Diana Ross, and If You Leave Me Now by Chicago – one of my favorite karaoke song.

17. My birth flower is CARNATION.

18. My birthstone is Garnet. Garnet is used as a power stone. Some consider these stones to be your birthstone, Emerald, Rose Quartz.

19. My birth tree is the Mysterious Fir Tree. It symbolizes extraordinary taste, dignity, cultivated airs, loves anything beautiful, moody, stubborn, tends to egoism but cares for those close to it,rather modest, very ambitious, talented, industrious uncontent lover, many friends, many foes, very reliable.

20. The moon's phase on the day I was born was in its first quarter.
21. My age is the equivalent of a dog that is 5.03718199608611 years old. So young that I’m still chasing cats!

22. My lucky day is Saturday.
23. My lucky number is 8.
24. My ruling planet(s) is Saturn & Uranus
25. My lucky dates are 8th, 17th, 26th.

26. My opposition sign is Cancer.
27. My opposition number(s) is 2 & 7.


And today as of posting date, the numerology says: Today is not one of your lucky days!