Wayne!

(This is the entry that I didn’t quite finish from Friday at work)

Yesterday, I got off work a little late. Not because the work load that had been stressing me out. I actually lost track of time while I was chatting with Bruce online. (Without Instant Messenger, work would be so very boring)

Anyway, after we finished chatting, I shut down the computer, turned off the printer, locked up the cabinet containing my snacks and tea bags, and then rushed down to the first floor to catch the subway.

Everything went well; I caught up with almost everything in time. The Subway and the Train back home.

Like the usual me, I stroll down the stairs to where the train parked, and stepped in. I have had a long day, and felt really less-glamorous. Since my mustache grows very fast, I got my five o’clock shadow at 2 PM. My pale skin along with the dark eye sags made me look a zombie. Anyway, I took a couple zombie steps in the train, pretend to be looking for a seat, but I was really checking out the passengers to see which cabin is worth “standing” in.

So, I was strolling down the cabin, wearing my black long coat, gray scarf, inside, I was wearing my dark gray suit, white dress shirt and a gray/blue strap tie. Underneath my clothes, I was totally naked. Ahem. Down the first ¼ section of the cabin, I heard:

“WAYNE!”

I stopped.

In my head, my brain start to analyze the tone, pitch and the accent of the voice, trying to identify the owner of the voice.

No Clue.

I turned.

I looked.

Okay, none of the faces matched my brainy database.

Then I looked toward the direction where the voice came from.

I saw a gentleman. Sitting near the window seat, looking at me.

I looked back and start to match his face with everyone that I know from work.

Nope. No match.

“Hi, I’m XXXXX!” he said.

Huh?

I raised my eye brow, while filtering the names in my memory that matches his name.

The only XXXX I know is a girl. And she’s in California.

“I’m XXXXX…. (mixed with some noise on the train) and (more noise) ….blog!”

Blog!

He read my BLOG!

I reached forward my right hand, offering him a handshake, but I quickly pulled back.

I forgot to take off my gloves. So I took off the black leather glove off my right hand with my left, and then reach my flesh covered hand to XXXXX.

We shook hand. And at the same time, I was filtering though the names of the fellow bloggers in my head.

Then it finally clicked.

XXXXX never blogged. But he had commented on my entries before.

So, I stood there, and start talking to XXXXX, who was sitting on the cabin seat, along with a total stranger stuck between us.

“Oh wow, I wasn’t expecting (Train Noise) (Train Noise) here (Train Noise) and (Train Noise)…”

The conversation carried on. I was totally comfortable standing while talking on the train. But XXXXX was more conscious of other people’s space around us. (I’m a motor mouth some times) Therefore, he got up and offered to chat at the ‘standing’ zone. (The entrance area of the train)

So we went there.

For a good 10-20 minutes, which seemed like forever, we were waiting for the Train to leave the tunnel, because the noise were extremely loud. But after that, we just kept on chatting and chatting and chatting and chatting and chatting until we have arrived at the stop.

Then I get to meet his partner, XXXXXX, whom, have also read my blog. XXXXX asked XXXXXX to guess who I was, but he couldn’t really match the face with the blog. The confused expression on his face was classic.

They offered me a ride back to my apartment and that was the end of the night.

I have told XXXXX that he was the first blogger (well, as described by himself, a blog commenter) that I ever met in person. (I’m sure that I have bumped into a lot of you at the Gay Life Expo, but I couldn’t identify / recognized.) Little did XXXXX realize that he was the very first person in my entire life that recognized and called me from my internet blog/website. I have been in the world of internet for ages, and my pictures are all over the place. I’ve never had anyone, came up to me on the street, and said “Hey! I know you!! You are Wayne!!”

I was really caught by surprised. First time ever, that someone I didn’t know or never seen, actually knew me. (Surprised, Positive Reaction. Shocked, Negative Reaction. I was surprised.)

XXXXX is a very nice and friendly guy. XXXXXX is too! I’m glad that I had the chance to meet such wonderful people. HI XXXXX Hi XXXXXX! Are you guys Reading this?!

Ahem. If you see me on the street, don’t hesitate to say Hi! I don’t bite, really. I mean, I don’t bite when I’m fully clothed.

The Snow Stormy

We are 3 weeks ahead of the Winter schedule. I guess the Winter Fairy decided to pay a visit to the East Coast and give us a little taste of what’s coming ahead.

Following the foot steps….



Passed the snowy cars…



To the snowy play yard…



I got wet.

Excuse Me

I am currently stuck at a Training Session since early this morning. Thanks to the new department management. Everyone in the systems group is required to attend.

Like a good boy that I have always been (uh-huh) - I arrived at the training room on time. Not a minute early, not a minute late. (Despite that this training took place outside of NYC. I had to take the train from Long Island to the city, and then take the subway to where I work. Grabbed my damn notes. Then walked all the way to the Ferry, and took the little bumpy ferry boat ride to this building with no cafeteria.)

It turned out that only 60% of the student showed up. I was totally cool with that. Less people, less chance that I will get caught checking my emails and surfing the web.

Though out the entire morning, I was as cool as a cucumber. (Don't ask me what this mean. I heard this expression from the commentator during the Summer Olympics, before Shannon Miller start her floor exercise.) But I was quiet, fast (I kept the record of being the first trainee to finish the in-class room exercise), and professional. (I was the only person who wore suit to the class. I forgot that we can wear semi-casual wear to training.)

So I was very cool in the early morning. And then some what cool around 10:30 AM, and then I can feel the pressure underneath my eyes around noon.

I have always been a morning person. During the weekdays, whenever the clock reached 2 PM, my brain start fall asleep. I would get really sleepy.

It was around 2:30 PM, and we were assigned to do the in-class exercise #5. Again, I was full speed ahead of other students.

I did part four.

And yawned a little.

I did part five.

I yawned a little again.

After I completed part six, my mouth automatically stretched itself out.

Yes. I was yawning. All of the sudden, I had this sudden force rushing up against my throat.

Then it happened...

****BUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP****

In my head, I was screaming "Ginger Ale!"

Then words came out of my mouth:

"Oh Shit!"

"Ops."

"Ahem. I mean, Excuse Me."

To embarrassed to check out fellow classmate's reaction, I kept my eyes focused on the monitor.

They were pretty quiet, but who knows what was in their mind or what they will gossip about after the class?!

Oh well. So here I am, finished in-class exercise #6 already, and also finished writing this entry.

China

Like a typical morning when I’m at home, Dad would prepare the breakfast early in the morning. I walked down the stairs, with sky blue long sleeves sweater and pale-blue-green pants on my body.

“Breakfast is ready.” Said my Dad.

As usual, on top of the newspaper-covered dining table, I see little dishes of minced Chinese preserved turnip, spicy pickled bamboo shoots, shibazuke, sweet bean curd, dried pork, fried eggs and two bowls of congee (boiled rice gruel).

While I was in the Kitchen, pouring myself a cup of warm water, I heard Dad’s voice coming from the dining room.

“Do you want sesame balls for desert?”

I reminded my Dad that we shouldn’t eat too much, because I will take him out to lunch later in the day.

“That’s right.”

I walk into the dining room and sat down on the chair.

“I over-cooked the eggs a little, see if you like it crispy on the edge.” Said Dad.

I picked up my pair of chopsticks and reached for the fried eggs.

He insert a spoon full of congee mixed with some turnips into his mouth.

Since I was sitting right in front of the cabinet, I cannot not noticed the new items added to the collection.

“Where did that Fan came from?” I asked.

“From my Uncle. He gave it to me when I was visiting Shanghai.” He said.

“Looks pretty.”

“Of course. It was one of the items that were taken by the government during The Chinese Cultural Revolution. The government finally released these items recently.”

“Nice.”

“I also found those China in the garage.”


China, chi·na
n.
1. High-quality porcelain or ceramic ware, originally made in China.
2. Porcelain or earthenware used for the table.


I looked at the direction of where he was facing.

8 blue and white patterned plates sat on the lower section of the display cabinet. Each one of them has the design of a blue dragon, chasing a fire ball. 4 big dinner plates, 2 salad-size plates, and 2 tiny sauce saucer.

“Your Grandma gave them to your mom. And She got them from her Grandma. These China plates are antiques. I’m sure they worthy a lot of money now… There may be some amazing history behind these fine china.” Said my Dad, while eyeing the cabinet.

“Oh, really.” I replied after I shovel a piece of bean curd though my lips.

“How come we only have 8 plates? I thought there were more…” Dad seemed puzzled.

Having the bean curd in my mouth, a giant flashback cluster swirled in front of my eyes.

Like viewing a magic mirror, I saw a 10 years Wayne pouring the watercolor mix on one of the blue small saucers and used it as a palette. Then there came Mom, pouring pan fried noodles onto the big blue plate and placed it on the dining table. Wayne said “Noodle!” My sister, on the other hand, took out the broken medium-size plate (watercolor palette) out of her backpack, and tossed them into the trash can. Wayne, walked in to the kitchen and picked up a big blue plate and asked Mom, “Is this it?” Mom nodded her head. Then Wayne walked to her and handed her the plate. Mom took it from Wayne’s hand and placed it under a small pot of Orchid. “Perfect.” She said. My sister yelled “Damn it!” as she opened the oven. “The plate snapped in half while I was baking the sweet potatoes.” Then Mom said, “Yeah. These plates are useless. Just the other day, I accidentally left one on top of the stove, and it also snapped in half. These has heat-tolerance at all.” All of the sudden, my dog accidentally stepped onto a blue saucer and made it jumped off the kitchen counter. The saucer shattered instantly.

The sweetness of the bean curd traveled from the center of my tongue up to my brain, and added a strange sense of awkwardness to my visions of the missing plates.

I tossed the bitter-sweet History of the 4 missing China behind my head, and turned my head to him.

“That’s weird. Mom only took 8 of them back.”

My Dad blinked his eyes.

“Probably my mistake. The complete set has 8 plates.”

“Sure.” I looked back down at my bowl of congee…

Milk, it does a body good! III


Sitting in my Math class, still over-joyed by my victory over the bastard boy, I started to look back the actions that I took, and those that I didn’t.

I remember saying to myself, that I didn’t really hate the bastard boy as much as I used to. Even though I have pictured the scenarios of me attacking him, they were more of self-defending tactics. Despite how much I thought I was strong and confident, when I saw him, I was scared. Some where inside of my head, alerted me of this individual. Maybe because of what happened in 7th grade. But I didn’t hate him.

While Mr. K (the Math Teacher) was explaining whatever he was explaining (as you can see, I wasn’t much of a good student. My mind wonders all the time), I started to reflect my actions.

But what caused my thought of vengeance?

Because the damn bastard boy pushed and called me a sissy.

But why he called me a sissy?

Because my spinning side-kick was weak.

But was my side-kick really weak?

The damn bastard boy didn’t show any signs of pain.

Why did you kick him at first place?

Because…

It was then, like a puzzle that had been freshly solved, I learned something about myself.

Like what John did to me in 4th grade. He punched me, just because he had never punched anyone, therefore, he experienced it on me. He ended up loosing my friendship.

I kicked the Bastard boy in 7th grade, because I have never kicked anyone before, and thought it was a good excuse for me to exercise my curiosity. I ended up being humiliated.

I was, indirectly, being a bully to myself.

It was, indeed. Karma. (And many of you wrote about it!)

I felt ashamed of what did I.

Really, I did.

My 7th grade experience of being bullied was the last in my life. I think my 10th grade was really the end of the era of me being immature. We have all came to the age where physical fighting is for ‘kids.’ (Now days, we use law suits, assassins and spasm [e]mails.)

It was indeed, a life changing experience for me.

Milk, It does a body good! II

My 7th grade was filled with up and downs. Aside from my dramatic improvement with my English language speaking/writing skills, I have also struggled to get myself out of the ESL (English as a second language) class.

The 40 minutes lunch time was considered Heaven, to us 7th graders. Aside from getting away from books, lectures and teachers, it was a great time for friends to gossip and play. However, unlike other students, I was more of a loner. I’d usually hang out with two other Asian boys, since there were very few of them on campus, but for some reason, I couldn’t connect with them. (Well, they talked about girls this girls that, and I had problem getting into the conversation.) So, most of my lunch time, I’d walk around aimless near the grass field.

I couldn’t remember the exact day or time that this happened, but I came across 3 guys while I was walking. I actually knew one of them. Jeff, was his name. He used to live near my home before we moved to another neighborhood.

I gave Jeff a quick nod and continue to walk pass them. Then all of the sudden, one of the guys grabbed my right arm.

Moron: “Hey You. What’s the hurry?”

Wayne: “I’m not in a hurry.”

I tried to shake his hand off my arm.

Moron: “Oh yeah? You know Kung Fu?”

Then he started to make the famous Bruce Lee “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…Ayyyiiiii” sound, while tighten his fingers around my elbow.

I remember saying “Let Go!” to the bastard, and looked over to Jeff.

Jeff stood silently.

He just stood there watching the entire scenario. No facial expression.

The third guy was laughing. Seemed he was enjoying the show.

I said again, “Let Go!” and shook my right arm back and forth. And that was when the damn bastard threw me onto the ground.

At that point, I was at the peak of my anger. With all the things that I’ve been though, my body was filled the battle cells. I was ready to explode. I was, ready to fight back.

I glared at him. Stood up and with all my strength, I gave him a spinning side kick right at his thigh. (I didn’t went though 3 years of Tae Kwon Do for nothing!)

PAH!

The back of my foot had slammed against his right thigh.

He smirked.

With his two hands, he pushed me back onto the ground.

“Sissy!”

Was the last word that I heard, before the lunch bell rang.

The three of them turned and walked away, left me sitting on the ground.

(Okay, I admit it, I was a Tae Kwon Do dropped out…)

I got up and realized that I shouldn’t have kicked him.

Because:

1) Fighting is not the answer. I could have pretend that I got really hurt, gather all the witnessed, filled out a police report, then suit his A$$ off.

2) I should have used my nails, jump on him, pull his hair and scratch his eyes out.

No, what really went though my mind, was what my mom told me in the past, that I should never fight back with fists. Smart people fight with words. I should have report the entire situation to the Dean, and have that little bastard grounded, and sent home from school.

But to me, being sent home is more like a luxury. How do I know if his mom will punish him for what he did? Who knows, maybe his entire family are a bunch bastards.

From that day, I have made up my mind, that I will get back to him some day. (No one calls me a Sissy! No one!!! I’m a Princess!!! Not a Sissy!!!)

Be ware of us Capricorn, we ‘remember’ things. One of the greatest and scariest quality about Capricorn, is that we have really good patience. It is never too early or too late to ‘revenge.’

Ever since that incident, I started to drink milk. Lots of milk. At the same time, I have also enrolled myself at a local Karate Dojo. (I continued to drink milk until I reached the age of 18, when I found out that I'm Lactose Intolerant.)

It was during the 10th grade year, that I finally encountered the bastard again.

When I saw the bastard walking down the hallway, I showed no fear.

Because now I am stronger than yesterday, not it’s nothing but my way. My sissiness ain’t killing me no more. I am, I’m stronger~~ ooh hey, yeah~~~

Come on, now~~ Oh yeah ~~~

Here I go, on my own~ I don’t need nobody, better off alone~~
Here I go, on my own now~
I don’t need nobody, not anybody~~
Here I go, Here I go, Here I go, Here I go, alright~~~~~
Here I go, Here I go, Here I go, Here I go~~

'cause now I'm~
Stronger than yesterday~~
Now it's nothing but my way~~~
My loneliness ain’t killing me no more~~~
I'm, I'm stronger~~~

Ops, I got carried away.

Ahem. Anyway. Our eyes met. I was face-to-face with the bastard. I was walking in the center of the hallway. And so was he.

His eye brows moved a bit, after he recognized me. My eyes focused on his eye balls.

I eyed him up and down, and realized that he hasn’t grown at all. He was just as tall when he was in 7th grade. During the 3 years, I have gotten taller and mentally, I was more confident of myself.. The tip of his head barely touched my shoulder. He was really short.

The distance between us became shorter. I wasn’t going to move out of his way. Actually, I have been waiting for this moment for a very long time, and I was waiting for him to make the first move. (Always wait for the other person to make the first move, later on, you can point your finger and yelled “He did it first! He did it first!!”)

In my head, I had pictured numerous scenarios of what will happened.

I saw myself doing a high-kick and knocked him backwards, with bleeding nose. Screaming “Back at you, you bastard, from what you did to me!”

I saw myself giving him the four-finger eye strike with my left hand and then elbow his chest with my right, knocked him onto the floor, coughing, choking, and moaning in pain. “This is your lesson of life, NEVER mess with an Asian!”

I saw myself doing a round-house kick, with my ankle slamming against his ear, forced him back, and then give him a fierce jab at the lower stomach. “You so tough, huh? Like that?! Want more?!”

I saw myself grabbing his ears with my both of my hands, and slamming my right knee up his face several times. “Bastard! You Bastard!”

The closer we got, the more uncomfortable he appeared to be. I kept my eyes focused on him. Took a deep breath, I prepared my body for the combat of my life. Then all of the sudden, his eyes looked away from me, and stepped to the side.

I kept on walking forward, and he did the same.

Then he walked passed me.

He walked AROUND me.

I kept on marching forward, at the center of the hallway until I reached my Math class.

I had a grin on my face for the rest of the day.

Me Gobble Gobble


Happy Holiday, Everyone. I'm going to be on vacation and will not be back until Dec 1st. Since I will not going to have any access to the internet or a computer, my blog will be in 'sleep' mode for a while.

I can already see myself reading and catching up with blogs on Monday, when I came back.

Have a great one.

*hugs and kisses and licks and smooches and squeeze you so tight that your back cracks 3 times*

Milk, It does a body good!
This is a not quite a sequel for my previous entry. But close enough.

I moved to California at the age of 10. In a City some where within the big Orange County. (Yep. Pua, I’m from OC!) Back then, the Asian population within my home town city was 1%. In the entire Elementary, Jr. High school, there were only 4 Asian students. So, basically, I had few years of experience being a real “minority.”

During the years from Elementary to Junior High School (4 years, since I started my American student career at fifth grade.) I had total 4 major incidents of being bulled by other students. The language problem didn’t help me much, in identifying what kind of mess that I was in, or seeking help. I basically put up with it.

Out of the 4 incidents, I will blog about two of them. Since they were must more special to me.

The first incident, happened to me during my 5th grade year. (And you thought Elementary kids are cute, well, let me tell you, they are very evil!) This happened a week after I got spit on by another student (Brandon, yes. I remember you!) at the play ground. It was after school, some kids went home, some kids stayed. I usually go home like every other students. It just happened that my mom had to went to the DMV get some applications, that I stayed after school with 4 other classmates.

4-Square, is a game where each player stay within one square and hit the ball back and forth between the players. If a player failed to ‘bounce’ the ball back to another square, then he/she is out of the game. Another player would step in and fill up the empty square. Anyway, I’m sure there are better explanation about this game out on the internet, but let me back to the main story.

We were playing 4-Square at the play ground.

As the sky got darker, some of my classmates went home. Then there were only 3 of us left.

Me, Adam, and a kid-stranger.

Then there came a boy on a bicycle.

He got off from his bicycle and said something to Adam.

Adam turned to the kid-stranger and said something.

The kid-stranger shook his head.

Adam turned to me.

“He asked to join the game. XXXX (kid-Stranger) can’t stay. Do you want to play more?”
I shook my head, it was time to go home anyway.

Adam turned his head to the Bicycle Boy and told him that we are not going to play anymore.

I walked to the 4 Squares (drawn on the ground) to pick up my ball. (Yep. It was mine)

Then all of the sudden, the Bicycle Boy charge forward and whacked the ball out of my hands.

He grabbed the ball with his right hand and said something to me.

Adam: “Give it back to him, you bastard.”

“……………..” (I didn’t know what is going on, I didn’t know what to do)

Bastard: “What’s the big deal.”

I wanted to say something, but not sure how to put them in English.

Adam: “Give it back to him now. Otherwise, you will be very sorry!”

Bastard: “Whatever”

And he threw the ball back at me, and it landed in front of my feet.

I reached down and picked up the ball.

The bastard kid started shot…”F**K you, go back to China! You don’t belong here! Get the F**K out of my country!”

I turned and start to walk away with the ball in my hand.

At the same time, Adam started to ran up to that Bastard kid.

The Bastard kid jumped onto his bike and paddled away, constantly chanting something that I knew was very bad.

Adam: “It is okay Wayne. He’s stupid. Don’t pay attention to him.”

I nodded my head and said “Thank You” with very heavy Chinese accent.

I wiped the tears and nose clean before I entered the front door of my house.

Mom greeted me from the kitchen. “Ah-Wayne, how’s your day?”

Wayne: “Good.”

Then I went up to my room and turned on my cry-baby mode.

Adam, yes. He was my Elementary to High School Crush. (Okay, so I didn’t realize that I was gay in 4th grade, but I sure know who I really like during Jr. High) Status?! Okay, Adam is around my height, blond hair, crystal clear blue eyes, and he was in the High School Soccer Team. (Oh baby! I love Sa-Ka playas) Very David Beckham-ish. (They have the same eyes) I still wonder how he is doing right now… Whenever I went back home, I’d drop pass his house (I don’t know if he moved or not) and see if I can magically bumped into him. But no luck. He is the only person that I can not dig out any information on the internet.

The next incident is a major turn point in my life, and it happened during my 7th grade year.


To be continued…

Fist me, Please!

I started this entry last Friday, but the company had a fire drill rehearsal, therefore, I was forced to get out of the office early. Didn’t get to post it up on the blog. Anyway, here it is.

I’m going to write about something in the past, a very personal experience, that happened to me during fourth grade.

He’s name, well, I don’t think he had an English back then. So, I’m just going refer him as John in this entry. (He looked like a John kinda person) He was my classmate in four grade, I was around 8 or 9 years old. Unlike the female love bird (my older sister), I didn’t really start growing until I reached the age of 14, so I was one of the many ‘midgets’ in the class. (Yes. The classmates refer us as Midgets. Damn it. Later on, the female love bird started to call me Midget. Argh) John, on the other hand, was a tall guy.

On the first day of the class, the teacher assigned our seats right next to each other. I’d never expect to become friends with John. At least, on my side, I thought we were really ‘good’ friends. We share almost everything. Pencils, Erasers, Paper, answers on homework assignments, lunch, gossips, candies…

One day, I forgot what exactly that I did, got him really upset. (Ate his lunch by accident? Broke his watch? Plugged his hair?) But the result is, that I owe him a flavor… Or at least, he needs to get back at what I did.

I remember asking him, what exactly I can do to make it up for him.

He looked at me, and with a strange grin on his face, and said “Meet me by the wall next to Classroom E at lunch time.”

“Okay…”

Classroom E, is considered one of the less-noticeable room on campus. Mainly it is located right next to the janitor’s closet, all the way in the corner at the end of the hall way. Because of the tree that grew right outside of the window, the light reception was extremely bad. Due to lack of light and air circulation, the environment is extremely dark, humid and covered with moles. (Classroom was usually used for study-session and make-up testing only. It was never used as a regular classroom.)

With a grin like that, I wasn’t sure what John had in mind. Or what he wanted to do to me.

I guess I was a bit afraid of what will happen to me.

Then finally, it came. The lunch hour that everyone waited since 7 AM has arrived. (I went to a private Taiwanese elementary school, where the school hours are 7 AM – 5 PM. Yes. Very Long Day.)

Keeping my word, I went to the wall that is connected to Classroom E.

He was standing right there. Expecting my arrival.

"I'm here."

He eyed me up and down, and said, “Let me punch you.”

I was a little shocked.

In my head, I wondered why would he wanted to punch me? He could have asked me to clean his desk, or do his homework for me. There are so many things that I can do, to make up what I did to him. But why a punch? Did he really hate me? Or he just want to feel how it is like to punch someone? Was he thinking about joining some kind of gang, or want to start one? Was this part of becoming of a man-hood for him or he just want to exercise his power? But why did he want to do that to me? Aren’t we friends?

“Do whatever you want.” I said coldly.

Then he did.

He reached his right arm back, with his fist above his ear.

I kept my eyes open, looking at him.

Like an arrow off the crossbow, He thrust his fist into my face. (Back then, I was unaware of my duty of as a fairy, I didn’t protect my fragile and delicate face with both of my hands.)

He slammed his knuckles into my right cheek bone.

The impact of his fist against my face forced my body back. Fighting the force, I planted both of my feet firmly on the ground, like the roots of a tree. I arched my back to maintain my balance, so my feet would stay in the same place, then like a rubber chicken, I bounced right back into my original position.

My cheek felt numb. I couldn’t feel anything.

I looked at him in the eyes.

I was holding my breath, to let myself recover from the shock.

He looked back at me in the eyes.

It took me 4 seconds, before these words came out of my mouth:

“Is that all you got?”

He looked surprised.

Then I said.

“I didn’t feel anything.”

He was speechless.

“Are you done? If you are done, I’m gonna go. I’ve got other things to do.”

I turned my body around, with my back facing him, and walked out of the class room.

I knew that he expected me to cry.

He wanted me to burst into tears and surrender to his power.

(Well, little did he know, he should never expect too much when dealing with a Princess in training. He should be glad that I didn’t claw his eyes out.)

But I was in control of my emotion.

I didn’t want him to win.

I went up to the Boys’ Room. Grabbed a piece of the tissue from the toilet stall. Looked into the mirror and wiped off the little tear drops that were waiting to fall down.

I never talk to him again.

So, I have a new commenting system. :) Comment away, my preciousssssss...

Fud Place of the Day

Good Restaurant
89 Greenwich Avenue (between 7th & 8th Aves.)
Phone: 212.691.8080
Fax: 212.691.8193
http://www.goodrestaurantnyc.com

So I went to the GOOD restaurant with PA001 last night. It was GOOD. I mean, aside from the name of the restaurant, the food was very GOOD. At least, I didn’t puke or end up having bad stomach.

PA001 always seem to knows where to go for fine dinning. (Except for that one time, we had the most strange middle eastern food...)

Anyway, here is what we ordered:

Starter: Marinated Calamari with cucumber, baby greens, pickled red onion & crisp olive croutons with fresh dill and mint.

Review: A very refreshing starter salad. With good amount of calamari and grilled red onions, this is surely a delightful starter before any entrees. If you don’t like sea food or cold starters, than this is not the dish for you.

Wayne’s Entrée: Grilled Pork Tenderloin with creamy savory cabbage & roasted apple with cider glaze.

Review: This is recommended by PA001, and it was sure the best recommendation on food that I ever had. I’m not much of a pork eater. (Well, I’m Chinese, and I’m sure you have heard the common myth on Chinese people eat anything that moves) But I have decided to give it a try. And I’m glad I did. The Pork Tenderloin was indeed, very tender. Juicy and soft to chew. The sweet glaze over the surface of the pork combined with the marinated cabbage created the unique taste that totally satisfied my watery mouth.

PA001’s Entrée: Grilled Faicco’s Chicken Sausages on frisee-shiitake-goat cheese salad

Review: PA001 was kind enough to let me have a taste of his dish, despite that I have licked my plate clean and was totally full. The chicken sausage itself, was pretty plain, but very crunch. But as soon as I put a fork full of the goat cheese salad in my mouth, I melted completed. As a salad lover, I totally dig this salad. It had a very unique lime-mint-yummy-oh-yeah-baby taste to the dressing, which, I couldn’t quite describe. However, the taste of the salad was a little be ‘strong’ to eat as a regular salad dish. That is probably why the plain crunchy chicken sausages were added to balance the entire entrée.. .

Dessert: Warm Dark Chocolate Cake with Kahlua chocolate sauce & coffee ice cream

Review: Ever heard of the word, sweet as candy? Well, this one will definitely make your tooth hurt. VERY Sweet and VERY Chocolate!! If you are a chocolate lover, this is the thing for you!

The best part of the night, was that I ‘accidentally’ bumped into a very handsome hot dark hair dark eyes tall European guy wearing ivory colored suit pants and brown jacket. I was standing up, to put my coat on… At the same time, he was coming out from Men’s room from behind. From the reflection of the glass window, I saw him coming. So I basically leaned my body backward a little bit while trying to insert my left arm in the sleeve. Then magically, my shoulder bumped into his chest. At the moment where our bodies collapsed against each other, I threw off my balance and let my body free-fall toward the right, as if his well-build chest bounced me off. He lift his right arm, and caught my right shoulder, preventing me from falling.

I turned left and looked up.

My eyes met his eyes.

“Oh, Excuse me. I’m very sorry.”

“It is okay.”

Then I realized the handsome man is straight. There’s no chance for me, after all, to pursue anything. (Hack, I have Paw already!)

I regained my balance. Nodded my head to him. Smiled. Then walked to the exit.

Phone Memory III

*Picks up the phone*

Wayne: "Hello?"

On the other side of the phone, a very cute male voice replied in Korean.

"&*(#&!%&)%&!)%(*)$*(!)_*$(#_*!$"

Wayne: "I'm sorry, I don't speak Korean."

The very cute voice continued.

"#U*()$&*!()$&*(!$ ????"

Wayne: "I'm Sorry, I don't speak Korean."

The very cute voice continued on the other side of the phone.

"*()&%#(!)&%*()!&$*(#$&)(!#&*$()!#$...#&*($)&*($....???"

Wayne: "Uh, I'm gay and I love you."

Silence.

Wayne: "Hello? Hello?"

The man with the cute voice hung up the phone.

************
Hi guys, my commenting system seemed to have been having a lot of problems lately... Sorry that I couldn't reply to your comments in time. I did managed to replied some this morning. :) Muah Muah
************

Brenda, Thank you. For this. It's so cute!

Bread

This is lovely, I just a sting of hair out of this bread that I bought in China town. Actaully, I have ate 1/2 of it already. If I didn't look down, I'd probably finish the entire thing without noticing the hair.

So:

Option 1 - Keep on eating.

Option 2 - Throws it away and copy down the store number and call and totally complain and be a real b*tch about it.

Option 3 - Cut off the remaining portion into tiny pieces and gave them to co-workes.

I picked Option 1. Because this bread costed me 75 cents and I was hungry.

In the Zone


Here I am, listening to Ms. Britney Spear's latest album, In The Zone.

Thank Gawd, it's a pirated copy. (4 dollah!)

The Sunday

Warning: This is a very long entry. Read, when you feel like slacking off at work or you are really bored.

So, on Sunday, I went to the Gay Life Expo in the city. (Thanks to Henney, I got a free admission pass! – Pfft, you think I will actually pay $15.00 dollars for entering a highly commercialized promotion paradise where I actually have to pay a lot of money for stuff that I can get cheaper at the 99 cents store? Yeah right!)

But it was worth checking out though – at least, I should have checked it out on Saturday, because James from Bravo’s Boy Meets Boy was there. Which, I walked pass by on Saturday!!

Ack, did confuse you? Okay, I was actually at the Convention Center on Saturday, for the Asian Diversity Career Expo with the love birds. (Love Birds = My sister and her boyfriend) I was totally clueless that the Gay Life Expo that I read on papers is held in the same place, but in a different ballroom. At the end of the Asian Diversity Career Expo, us three went out and ready to go back to our car. That is where I spot James, on the side talking to three other guys wearing the Staff badge.

And my gawd, he looks every hotter in person. Very tall, very handsome, and very charming. But he wasn’t smiling though. Since I was with the two love birds, I didn’t had the opportunity to turn on my gossip queen mode and listen to what happened. James seemed a bit stressed. It almost seemed that he was complaining about something. (I guess he probably got groped by millions of visitor at the Vodka booth)

Anyway, due to sudden unexpected change of plan on Sunday, I went to the Gay Life Expo by myself. I called Henney that it will be myself only, going to the Expo.

So anyway, finally, Henney arrived at the Expo, gave me the Free Admission Pass.

“Okay, Wayne, let’s go int.”

Then we went in.

(Ahem, I have actually been waiting outside for 60 minutes. Based on what I saw from the window, it was very hot in there. Hot = Shirt less guys + Eye Candies + Flamers + Drag Queens + Alcohol)

The place is very crowed, in a way. (I went in at 3:30 PM) I followed Henney to the booth where he volunteered at and put my stuff there.

Henney: “Okay Wayne, we will be here to watch over the stuff. Go and have fun!”

For a second, I felt guilty. It almost seems that I’m using Henney, just to save $15.00 – I should have just stay there and hang out with Henney, keep him company.

Henney: “Remember to get all those good freebies.”

Wayne: “FREEBIES!?”

Without any hesitation, I grabbed my plastic bag and venture to get all the freebies that I can see, and left Henney at his booth by himself.

It only took me a 3 steps, to realized that I was starving. And we all know that the food in any Expo are super expensive.

Thanks to a nice fella from a booth that I don’t remember the name, I got a small cup of blue jelly beans from him. That was my miracle lunch and I swallowed them whole.
I walked around, didn’t really see anything that really caught my interest. (Expects the doggies alley. There was a entire block of booths for dog adoption and sponsorship. They were so cute.)

Around the corner, I saw a line of people.

“Oh, James is here?!”

Then I moved my body toward the booth where the line formed.

I saw… DEBORAH GIBSON! (Thanks to the big poster behind her, or else, I wouldn’t know who she is.)

Since I was ever exposed to the world of Pop Music until I was 18 years old (Before that, I was a classical music freak. I know. I was a nerd.) – Anything in the late 80’s and early 90’s, I only know Madonna, Michael Jackson, George Michael (Oh Baby!) and Paula Abdul. Everyone else was just a blur to me.

Then I look at her face.

She was wearing a very cute lime green dress with little gem stones on the shoulder strap. I couldn’t really tell the brand of the dress… Not Vera Wang… Not Parada… Not Max Mara… I was really clueless.

And her eye shadows, Lime Green on top of Apple green shade. Either Mac or Anna Sui. Only those two brand has those unique green non-transparent color with slight shimmer.

The more I look at her face, the more I recognize her.

“DEBBIE GIBSON!”

Oh, that’s her! It’s the girl that sang:

Onnnnlllllyyyyyyyyyyyyy in my ddddrrrrreeeeeaaaaaaaam……..Only in my dreeaaammm

And

Shake your loovvee.. I just can't shake your love….

I have seen her face from the VH1’s all about 80’s and one of the episodes on the Bubble Gum Pop Stars.

Since I have never had any close encounter with any pop-singers, I got myself in line and waiting along with other gay men. For some reason, I felt like I was the youngest person in the line. (Okay, so everyone else who is younger than me, don’t know who Debbie Gibson is. Uh, she was the Britney Spears in the 80’s! Before…They were born!)

One Step.

One More Step.

One More Extra Step.

I was closer and closer to Deborah Gibson.

There she was, sitting on the chair, signing Autographs…. Promoting her new CD… And a gentleman next to her said…”CD for 15, Poster for 5”

I picked up my cell phone and called Duckie.

“Duckie! Debbie Gibson is here! Do you want her autograph?!”

Duckie: “Tell her to sign on your chest… wait, your ass, that’s even better.”

Wayne: “Dude, do you want her autograph or not?”

Duckie: “Danni said that you should ask her to spank you.”

Wayne: “I can’t do that here?! There are people watching.”

Duckie: “Heh Heh, Spank me mama,Spank me!”

Wayne: “Bi*ch, you want the autograph or not?!”

Duckie: “Oh sure, Oh sure!”

Wayne: “Okay, you owe me 5 bucks.”

Then I hang up the phone.

I bought a CD and a mini poster from the man.

Looking over the guy’s shoulder, I saw Deborah signing the CD covers and the poster.

Mike, You Rock! Deborah Gibson.

Sal, You Rock! Deborah Gibson.

Jeff, You Rock! Deborah Gibson.

She smiled and signed with a silver pen.

And it was my term. I put on my happy Wayne smile and look at her in the eyes.

Deborah Gibson: “And your name?”

I handed her the CD cover. “Wayne. W-a-y-n-e.”

Deborah Gibson: “Hi Wayne.” Then she looked down and start writing on the CD cover.

I handed her the poster. “And this one is for my friend, who is your biggest fan in California.”

Deborah Gibson: “And his name?” She smiled.

Wayne: “Duc. D-u-c.”

She paused for a sec, then start writing on the poster.

After she is done, she raised her head.

I smiled at her. “Oh, thank you very much. I’m so thrilled to see you here.” (even though I’m not really a big fan of her, but heck, she’s a celebrity, right?)

She smiled back.

Then I moved out of the line, with my CD and poster.

I looked down the CD cover and saw:

'Wayne, Happy Holidays! Deborah Gibson.'

Then I look at the poster.

'Duc, Happy Holidays! Deborah Gibson.'

Happy Holidays?

Did she meant… Thanksgiving? Or Christmas? I mean, I don’t rock? Does this mean that I have to wait until Christmas before I give the poster to Duckie?

How come she didn’t write that I rock?

Uh, Why?

Then I went back to Henney’s booth.

“Look, I got Debbie – uh, Deborah Gibson’s autograph.”

Henney: “Oh yeah, its D-E-B-O-R-A-H now.”

I put my stuff away, and sat next to Henney.

Henney: “The Cheer NY cheerleaders are going to perform now. You should go check it out.”

Oh yeah, I complete forgot! And Faustus might be there too!

So I went up, behind a bunch of gay men, to watch the performance.

The first thing I noticed, was an Asian kid, constantly had his tongue sticking out.

Okay, that was a little distrubing. I know that having a great smile is very important to a cheer performance. (Thanks to MTV’s Camp Jim, I have learned so much about cheer leading) But with a TONGUE sticking out? I mean, the entire time, I was horried that he might bite on his tonue while being thrown and tossed around in the air.

Then another Asian kid caught my attention. He was constantly winking.

It was a little disturbing for me.

What happened to the smiles? Everyone else (including the girls) are smiling, then how come the Asians are doing something different?

Do they think they rock? I wondered what Deborah Gibson wrote on their autograph.

After the performance, I went back to Henney again.

“Henney, the performance was great.”

Henney: “Yeah, they are pretty good. I like that one Asian guy.”

Wayne: “Happy Holidays.”

Henney: “Huh?”

Wayne: “Never mind. Hey, you know, I think I know someone in the Cheer Leading Squad.”

Henney: “Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

Then all of the sudden, a man dressed in the cheer leader outfit came to the table.

Henney: “OH hey!”

They greeted each other. I smiled at him.

Henney: “Wayne, this is XXXX and he’s the big guy in the Squad.”

I shook his hand. “Yes. I saw you earlier. The performance was great.”

Henney: “Hey, Wayne knows someone in the squad.”

XXXX: “Oh? What’s his name?”

Wayne: “……………………………”

Then I realized, I have completed forgot Faustus’s real name.

Wayne: “I forgot his real name.”

XXXX: “Huh?”

Wayne: “I know him from the internet blog.”

XXXX: “Is he Asian? White? Hispanic?”

Then I realized, other than the fact that Faustus knows how to knit, does aerobics, writes music, play… and nothing else regarding his phyiscal appearance… But I did remember that Crash has mentioned Faustus has red hair.

Wayne: “He has red hair.”

XXXX: “Hrm, this is not helping much.”

Wayne: “Oh, it is okay, don’t worry about it. Just say Hi to everyone for me.”

(Sorry Faustus, I haven’t been taking my Gingko Biloba tablets, my memory is failing me)

Then I spent the rest of the day sitting at Henney’s booth, checking out the cute guy at the Atlantis Cruise booth across from us.

Before the Expo closed, Henney said that he’s gonna go and walk around to see if there are any cool goodies left.

Wayne: “I’ll go with you.”

Then we marched on.

While I was walking, someone pulled my right arm.

“Want a massage?”

I looked up. It was a massage theorpy booth.

There were two guys laying on the massage chair getting their shoulder hammered.

“We are closing soon. Want a massage?”

I looked at the massage chair, and looked back at him.

Wayne: “Does it hurt?”

The Man: “No, it will be very comfortable.”

Wayne: “Okay.”

I went and sat face-down on the massage chair.

Wayne: “I will not be screaming in pain or anything, right?”

The Man: “Oh, I be very gentle with you.”

Wayne: “Oh. Good. I guess.”

Then he started to massage my shoulder.

The Man: “1 minute for a dollar. 10 minutes for 10. How long do you want?

Sh*t, I didn’t know it costs money. I thought it was free.

Wayne: “uh, how about five minutes? I gotta go meet my friend.”

The Man: “10 minutes minimum.”

Wayne: “Okay, 10 minutes.”

The massage went on. And I didn’t feel anything.

Wayne: “Okay. I lied. Make me scream. I like pain. Harder, Harder!”

The Man: “Okay.”

I just want to get my 10 minutes worth the money. (I’m cheap. I can’t help it)

Then after the 10 minutes, I jumped off the massage chair.

I smiled at him. “Pretty Good. Thanks!”

I paid the 10 dollars and walked away. And it was actually just an “okay” job he did. Good techniques, but he was tired, having been massaging people all day, that he just lack that extra strength in his fingers.

Then I found Henney, and I grabbed a cookie from the Double-Tree Hotel Booth, and then said good bye to him.

“Time to go now. Thank you so much for the pass.”

Henney: “Anytime.”

Peppermint Hot Chocolate

Thanks to this guy, that he mentioned numerous of time in his blog, about the Starbucks Peppermint Hot Chocolate, which is something that is rarely (or even, don’t exist) in the US chain.

(This is not fair. Do you know that the Mc Donald's in Hong Kong and Taiwan serves Dim Sum?! How come we don’t have that here in US?! ARGH)

For being an ex-Starbucks freak. Yes. Ex. After my stomach developed serious problems, I have reduced my coffee intake. (Farewell, my sweet Iced Caramel Mochiato) And yes. I even gave up on my Dunkin’ Donuts Coffee Coolatta. All for my sick tummy… and also for my WEIGHT. YES. I have gained SO MUCH weight, my tummy vibrates for a good 5 seconds whenever I whack it.

Anyway, I was so turned on by Angelo’s description, I just had to have a cup of Starbucks Peppermint Hot Chocolate in my hand.

Here is a quote from his blog:

“For the next forty minutes, the creamy and delicious chocolate, accented with peppermint, topped with whipped cream and completed with a chocolate swirl and red sugar sprinkles kept me company…”

So, Chef Wayne decided to make his own.

Materials available at work:

Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate Mix (With Marshmallows) – Which, will give my mix the rich chocolate taste.

Various Tea Bags – Which, includes the Caffeine Free Herbal Mint tea.

Low Fat Milk – Either the low fat milk, or the half-and-half Creamer. The Low Fat Milk seem fresher, and a good substitute for the whipped cream.

Kit-Kat Bars – I found it hiding in my drawer. I think it is still eatable. Good enough to replace the chocolate swirl and sugar sprinkles.

Instructions:

1) Pour hot water in a paper cup. Insert the Caffeine Free Herbal Mint Tea.
2) Empty the bag of Hot Chocolate Mix into Wayne’s Coffee Mug. Add hot water, but leave ¼ room for other ingredients.
3) Stir the Hot Chocolate with the Kit-Kat bar.
4) Add low fat milk.
5) Continue to stir the Hot Chocolate Mix.
6) Add Caffeine Free Herbal Mint Tea into the Mix.
7) Break a new Kit-Kat bar into many little pieces. And add them to the mix.

Then I got a call to attend a phone conference. So, I left my mug filled with delicious smelling Wayne’s Peppermint Chocolate Mix on my table.

After 40 minutes, I returned to my desk, only to find that my mix has became warm. But that was okay, because I usually don’t drink HOT stuff anyway. So, I took a sip of my Peppermint Chocolate Mix… then I stood up.

I walked over to the company kitchen. Turn on the water, dump the entire mug of sh*t liquid into the sink. Rinse the mug. Dry the mug. Filled the mug with plain warm water. Go back to my desk. And start typing this blog entry.

Moral of the story: Wayne is retarded.

Ms. M

For some reason, Ms. M called me up from the deepest part of my memory today.

“Wayne, I think you should blog about me.”

So, here I am. I’m going to blog about Ms. M. My 7th grade PE (Physical Education) teacher.

At the tender age of 12, my poor English was at its peak. (Actually, to think of it, Having been in US for only two years at the time, I had no problem communicating with other class mates. I guess my English wasn’t that bad.) But I still have to go to school like every other 12 / 13 years old tender kids. Except, I have to attend the ESL session after school.

But I’m not going to write about what happened between me and that handsome Latino boy during the after school ESL session, or my encounter with the tall and handsome 8th grade basketball players.

Instead, I’m sticking to the original scheduled program. My PE teacher is a woman. Not surprising for a Junior High School. (In High School, the PE class are divided by sex. Girls have their own PE session with a female coach. Same with the guys.) So, what do we do during the PE class? Not much. We didn’t play much sports. Mainly focusing on exercise, running, and health education. (Health education, learn about your body, your heart, lungs, your this your that. Oh yeah, and sex education too. We saw this video tape that talked about the female and male reproduction system and where babies came from and more.)

Ms. M, what exactly about her that is worth me blogging about? Well, all I can say is, she is probably one of most interesting teachers that I’ve ever had during my student life. Ms. M has always been very supportive toward me. She would tell jokes during the class, which made the class more enjoyable. She would wrap her arms around me, when I feel ill during the class, then sent me to the nurse’s office. Like a mother, I would say.

Some of you, who have known me in person, may noticed how much hatred I had against cigarette smoking. I have slapped and kicked my ex Mr. #2 so many times because he’s an aggressive smoker. Well, I can really say it was Ms. M who influenced me.

In one of her Physical Health class, we learned how smoking is bad for our lungs. She brought in jars containing specimens of ‘polluted’ lungs to class. We saw numerous video tapes on the effect of smoking, lung cancer, bad yellow teeth, and the old man that has a big hole on the bottom of his neck. Having to learn to hate cigarette for 6 weeks. I basically became a cigarette crusader. I mean, He*l, I even won the “Create your own Anti-Smoking Calendar” contest.

Anyway, I was such a proud anti-smoking crusader, that I felt it was my duty to save the human kind from lung cancer, that I told my uncle to stop smoking. I told my dad to stop smoking during his business trip. I beat the sh*t out of my little cousin for being curious about smoking.

Then one day, I heard a rumor during lunch time.

“Do you know that Ms. M smokes?”

“No Way!”

”She does! Stacey saw her smoking in the car!”

“When?”

“Last weekend.”

Then everything that I learned from Physical Health class flooded my brain. I was really troubled by the news, that Ms. M smokes. If she smokes like there’s no tomorrow, then how can she tell us not to smoke? How can she be a role model when she can’t even do the right thing? What IS the right thing?

My tender pure gentle heart shattered. At least, a portion of it. (See how easily rumors can affect a pure soul?)

It was not until I walked pass her car, and saw packs of cigarette on the front seat, I gave up seeing her as a role model.

No offense to the smokers, but even now days, I still feel some resistant when smokers are around. The smell of the smog makes me feel ill. I’d get really dizzy…and can be easily taken advantage of. (Hint Hint) Oh, did I mention, Paw is a heavy smoker? I hope I will not die from Lung Cancer.

Near the end of the semester, after the one mile running thing, I walked into the boy’s locker room, to pee. (Yep. The urinals are located right inside of the locker room, next to the shower) Before I stepped into the locker room, I saw two boys from another class walking out, giggling at each other.

“Hehehehehe”

“Hahaha”

“Hehe”

“Hahaha”

I was puzzled.

I walked pass the two boys and into the locker room.

Step by step, I walked toward the urinal.

Then I saw Ms. M’s picture sticker.

I blinked.

Note: For the year book, every one on campus (including the instructors) is required to have pictures taken. I spent $50.00 dollars on pictures that made me looked like a mushroom. (Ahem. You now, the famous BOWL-cut hair.) For $75.00, the package include more sheets of big size photos, and a sheet of photo stickers.

Then I look at her picture again.

She smiled back.

Someone has posted the picture of Ms. M right at the center of the urinal.

“Poor Ms. M, the edge of the picture is all yellow… “ I said to myself.

Indeed, the color on the picture had faded due to the heavy golden shower. Yet, in the picture, she’s still smiling, as if she really enjoys the shower.

I untie the strings around my shorts, getting into my pissing position.

I looked down.

Then I looked up a little bit.

And I looked down into Ms. M’s eyes.

“Did you know that you are a liar?”

She smiled back.

“Maybe this is what you deserved.”

She smiled back at me. The same smile that she always give me during the class.

I didn’t pull down my shorts.

I held my pee.

I walked around the locker room and found a sheet of gum wrapper.

I picked it up.

I walked back to the urinal.

With my index finger and thumb behind the tiny gum wrapper, I grabbed the edge of Ms. M’s picture, and tore it off the pee spot.

Toss the picture along with the wrapper into the trash can.

“Now we are even.”

Then I peed.

I flushed the urinal and walked back to the class.

“What took you so long?” John asked.

“I drank too much water.” I replied.

Then we went to join other boys at the pull-up bar.

I was a hero. At least, I thought I was. But no one seemed to notice that I have saved Ms. M from the Pee-Face Voodoo curse.

Guys... If you added my Blog on to your site, please let me know, okay? So I can return the favor. (YES. I'm talking about you! You have no idea how surprised that I was to find my site linked on your site. Damn it, you gotta tell me! So I can link you!!! *spank* *spank* *spank*)

You are Not A FOB.
Why did you take this test? You are as American as
a wiener in an apple pie. Do you know how to
use chopsticks?


How much FOB are you? (Fresh Off the Boat)
brought to you by Quizilla

I totally nailed the last question. Yep.

Picture of the Day



Crocodile: “Smile for the camera! I’m a movie star!!”
Lobster: “Get out of my way, you are blocking me!”
Fishy: “Guys… Uh… I can’t breathe… I’m being sandwiched.”

On The Vinegar Train

I stayed at work 1 hour over my regular scheduled off-work time. Which, wasn’t that bad. Since I usually stayed overtime anyway. (Isn’t it lovely that I don’t get paid over time? I =love= corporations) In order to catch the train, I rushed out of work without washing my coffee mugs. (Which, it was fill with honey-green tea, therefore, it was all sticky when I come into work this morning.)

The subway ride was slow. The random dispatcher stops got me all heated up. I was very tight in schedule to catch the train back home. I have no desire and energy to wait 25 minutes for the next train.

Ding.

The subway train moved.

Ding.

The subway train stopped.

Ding.

The subway train moved.

Ding.

The subway train stopped.

A man came into the door and totally brushed against me so hard, that I had to take a step back.

Damn, that’s his problem?

Ding.

The subway train started to move.

(#*&*%(!)&%*!&%_)!&%*(!#_%&**!%!#!

So, I finally made my way to the famous Penn Station. I dashed out of the subway and hip-pop-jump my way down the stairs. (Believe me. It is a sight to see me flying down the stairs wearing a suit, dress shoes, carrying lunch bags in my hand, and yet, didn’t trip or missed a step. Sometimes, I felt like one of those giant cockroaches from the movie, The Mimic.)

With a quick glance at the track table, I dashed toward the tunnel where the train parked

Ding.

With lighting fast speed, I forced myself into the train door.

Ding.

Just in time. I made it. I have made it. I can finally go home on time. It was a short touchy moment for me.

I looked around and found no seats available for my butt to rest on, so, I decided to stand near the doors. (Since I have gained so much weight, I could use some exercise…. Standing, that is.)

Then I smelled something.

Sniff, Sniff, Sniff

Oh crap.

Rice Vinegar.

That is what it smelled like. Or something that is really sour.

So, someone must have spilled some spoiled fruit juice near the door. That’s fine. I’ll go to the next cart.

All of the sudden, school of fish.. I mean, people started to merge in from other carts… In no time, I was pushed back against the door, right on the ‘vinegar spot.’

Great. And I’m wearing my recently-dry-cleaned suit.

That’s fine. Sooner or later, my nose will get used to it.

I grabbed onto the handle with my right hand ( I was carrying my lunch bags with my left), closed my eyes to get some rest.

Well, more like sleeping. I totally fell asleep while standing among other people at the door way.

Maybe it has been 5 minutes or 10. But I was awaken by a sudden push from my left side.

I opened my eyes and ready to bark at whoever pushed me.

Then I realized that I was so deep asleep, that I have lost my grip on the handle and slammed my body against the door.

Ah.

Took a steady breath, I re-position my right hand and continued my rest.

Maybe after 5 or 10 more minutes. I heard a “BANG”

I opened my eyes. Looked around.

Oh, I dropped my lunch bags on the ground.

I picked up the bags with my left hand, faced the door window to check if I have drooled or not in the reflection, then resumed my elegant and professional posture.

Maybe it’s a good idea to stay away.

It order to keep myself awake. I made up a little game for myself.

I started to name the people around me. The man in front of me, I called him “Mr. Mayo.” Because when I first gone on the train, he was eating his sandwich. Little did he realize, he got mayonnaise all over his chin. Since I felt like a mischievous little bit*h, I decided to let him be the mysterious white chin man for the rest of the evening.

The woman to my right, I called her “Madam Butterfly.” Since she was wearing a beautiful royal purple rain coat over her pale purple shirt, covering her dark purple pants. Around her waist, she has this very eye-catching caramel brown leather belt. On top of her head, she had this very pretty floral pale brown hat, that was in the process of drying up. (It was raining last night) I just thought that her outfit was so pretty, and for her age, she deserves to be a Madam. (Or I could have just called her Ms. Old Grape, but then, that would be too cruel. Besides, I’m too nice to ever thought of her that way.)

There were two men standing diagonally across from me, leaning against the other door, chatting. And one of them is gay. I was so sure with that. Though all these years, every single steps that I took of becoming a queen, my gaydar has become more sensitive and powerful. I can easily detect the presence of another queen… And it is my duty, to secure my throne.

Anyway, I couldn’t tell if the other man is gay or not. Since, he had his back facing me. I called them “The Two Men,” since I couldn’t really think of any other names. (“The Queen and the Stable Boy” just don’t quit fit them, besides, I wanted to be nice.)

Then I decided to turned around, and who knows, maybe there’s a cutie sitting behind this plastic wall-thingy behind me.

So I turned.

!

EEEEK!!!!

Behind me, was a poster promoting the Christmas Show at the Radio City Music Hall.

And I was totally freaked out by the picture of the Radio City Music Hall girl. (To see the picture, click here and then look at the picture on the upper left corner) She caught me by surprised. I wasn’t expecting see something like that.

She had the biggest eyes and smile that I have ever seen. Especially with that two red dots glued on her cheeks. She totally freaked me out. All the sleepy bugs in my head fled like there’s no tomorrow. (Did I mention that I have Coulrophobia? )

I was wide awake. (Thank you, Radio City Music Hall girl!)

I turned back to face Mr. Mayo, then start to check out other posters around me.

Behind Mr. Mayo, there was some Scuba Diving Poster. Okay, big deal.

Behind Madam Butterfly, well, I can’t see anything. Since she is standing parallel to me.

At the corner of The Two Men, was a poster of a handsome Brooks Brothers poster. Brooks Brothers is a well known business wear tailor company. And their models are all very handsome and gorgeous looking. Same applies to that poster.

Right after the next stop, there The Two Men got off the train, I quickly migrated myself and take over their spot. I’d rather be standing to Mr. Model than the Radio City Music Hall girl.

Wow, what a handsome man. I won’t use the word HOT to describe this Brooks Brothers model. Since he is looking so professional and sophisticated.

He has nicely groomed dirty brown hair, gentle dark blue eyes, totally kiss-able lips, and broad shoulders. Moving my eyes from the tip of his hair down, I see Brooks Brothers designer had really made this man handsomer than ever. Dark blue suit jacket with thin strips, silver-teal blue neck tie, clean and nicely ironed white shirt… And inside of the suit jacket, he was wearing the matching patterned vest. I couldn’t quit see what belt he was wearing, since the vest was pretty long, and covered up this waist area.

Then I saw his penis.

I mean, penis… Yeah, I mean, Wee-Wee.

Someone has drawn a penis in between Mr. Model’s crotch with a pen. It was pretty hard to see the penis, unless you are at the face-to-face position with the poster.

So, I was looking at Mr. Model’s penis. Which, I thought it was inappropriate, since I haven’t even ask him out for dinner yet. No, what I meant was, I shouldn’t stand there looking at Mr. Model’s penis while Madam Butterfly is standing right behind me. Since she has been standing there for a while, she must have noticed the penis. And she is looking at me looking at Mr. Model’s penis.

I turned my body away from the poster slightly, trying to pretend that I was looking outside of the door and checking out the scenery. (Did I mention tit was raining and totally dark outside?)

For some reason, my head kept on turning back toward the poster.

Wow, this guy even drawn the pubic hair!

Oh my gosh, I shouldn’t be doing this. She’s looking at me!

Damn, this man is big.

Ack, Wayne. Stop it. Stop it. Control yourself!

Then Ding.

My stop.

I got out of the train.

And went home.

Weed

*Cell Phone Shakes*

*Wayne picks up the phone*

Wayne: "Hello"

Dad: "Wayne! It's your Father!"

Wayne: "Hi Papa."

Dad: "Busy at work right now?" (Said in Chinese)

Wayne: "Sorta." *typing* *typing* *typing*

Dad: "I have a question for you. English related."

Wayne: "Ok." *typing* *typing* *typing*

Dad: "Dah-Ma di Yin-Wen zhi ma shou?" (How do you say Weed in English)

Wayne: "Dah-Ma? It's Weed."

Dad: "The 5 leaves plant?"

Wayne: "I think so."

Dad: "Oh. What is the benefit of it?"

Wayne: "Well, you know. Weed, make you feel good, I suppose. And then you get addicted to it." *typing* *typing* *typing*

Dad: "I know that. What else?"

Wayne: "You can grow it any where. In college, I have seen some student growing their own weed in the closet." *typing* *typing* *typing*

Dad: "And what else?"

Wayne: "That's all I can think of. I never used weed. Why?" *stops typing*

Dad: "What benefit does it have on your body?"

Wayne: "You smoke it and make you feel good, relaxed, and see pretty things."

Dad: "On your body. Like using it as a cream."

Wayne: "What do you mean?"

Dad: "Rub it on your body. Like herb remedy."

Wayne: "Never heard of that."

Dad: "Your mom's friend gave her a tube of Weed Cream."

Wayne: "Weed Cream?"

Dad: "With 5 leaves design on it."

Wayne: "What does it say on the label?"

Dad: "I'm not sure..."

Wayne: "Spell out the name of the cream."

Dad: "H - E - M-P..."

Wayne: "Dad, that's different. It is the hand cream from The Body Shop. A shop that sells cream, shower gel, stuff like that."

Dad: "Oh, I thought it's weed."

Wayne: "It is okay. I thought it was weed cream when I first saw the product in the store."

Dad: "Okay. Can men use it?"

Wayne: "Of course, I use it myself. " (I use the tester at the store)

Dad: "Okay. Your mom didn't want to use it. So she gave it to me."

Wayne: "Does it spell H-A-N-D P-R-O-T-E-C-T-O-R some where?"

Dad: "Yes. In the brown box."

Wayne: "Okay, it's for hands. Safe to use."

Dad: "Okay. Thank you."

Wayne: "Anything else?"

Dad: "No. That is it. I'll let you get back to work."

Wayne: "Ok."

Dad: "Bye Bye"

This brief phone conversation reminded me a couple years ago, when I moved back home from San Diego, my dad came running to me.

Dad: “Wayne!!” (He looked really nervous)

I turned my face away from the monitor…”Yeah?”

Dad: “What is this?!” (Said with trembling voice)

Then he held up my glass tea brewer.

Wayne: “Huh?”

Dad: “What is this!!” (He looks at me in the eyes)

Then I grab the contain from his hand. And said, “I’ll show you.”

I went to the kitchen cabinet and pull out the Cherry Green Tea box. I grabbed a tea bag out of the box and threw it in the brewer.

Wayne: “Then, you add hot water….And…”

Dad: “Oh, Tea Pot.”

Wayne: “Yep. Sister got it for me.”

Dad: “Okay.” (With a relief on his face)

Then he walked away. He must thought that was a glass bong or something.

PS. Bong is something that you use to smoke grass with. Okay, Kids. don't do this at home. It's not good for you. We should all use Hemp instead.

And, just now, I realized it wasn’t a tea brewer. As I was looking for a picture of this thing… It is actually called a “MOCHA PRESS” – Gawd, I feel stupid.

Like Oh My Gawd

Okay, so Bob was at my desk. I mean, there shouldn’t be any problem. He came to my desk to give me more details, because we have been exchanging email back and forth regarding some work stuff. Which, seems to be a normally thing on a regular working day.

The problem was. I forgot to turn off my AIM.

So we were talking, then all of the sudden, his eyes glitch. He saw something on my screen.

Hi Wa Wa

I turned around, and click on any other already opened application to cover it up.

Bob: “What’s what?”

Wayne: “Oh, you know. The messenger.”

Bob: “Oh, the Chat thing.”

Wayne: “Yeah. I’d be so bored to death without it at work.”

Bob: “I can’t believe the company allows that to be installed.”

Wayne: “Randy has it. Donald has it. Everyone behind the door behind you has it.”

Bob: “Oh.”

Then I changed the subject to system blah, application blah, and blah blahs.

Like oh my gawd, he saw the message. He saw someone called me Wa Wa. OH my gawd, I mean, he’s so gonna tell everyone at work, since he’s a big gossip queen himself. Argh, why didn’t I sign off from AIM… But again I didn’t know Bob would drop by like that, he totally caught me… I mean, I was sorta kinda scared, but now to think about it, why would he care, but then he’s really bored at work, so he gotta find something to amuse himself, which including gossiping about me using the company un-approved application during working hours and chatting and being called a Wa Wa.

I guess I’ll have poison him before the word gets around.

This Halloween

Well, I’m very excited about Halloween. It is that one special day, where all closeted gay men can dress up skanky outfit, wear beautiful blooming wigs, body covered with sh*t loads of glitter, and put on sexy smoky eye shadows. They can walk in public without having to worry about being called a “fag.” For gay men who are not into being divine and glamorous, they expose their body from head to toe. Well, not quite naked, I have seen guys running around wearing only a piece of leave and a pair of angel wings.

So, this year, what am I going to dress up as? I mean, I have done the cowboy thing, the karate kid, baseball player, Mariah Scary, and Jennifer Lo’ass. What exactly am I going to dress up as this year?

The truth is, I’m not dressing up. I’m going to spend some quality time with my dog, celebrating his 15th Birthday. And then, probably watch TV…

If I can dress up without having to worry about the budget… I’d love to dress up as a blueberry muffin. I don’t know, I have a thing for food. Oh, well, if I do end up dressing up, I will take lots of pictures and post them on the net. (Drag?! Nah, been there done that, time to do something that will make me feel like a man... Like wax my legs or something… Oh yeah! I can dress up as Nad's!!!)

Eye Candy of the Day

Mark Dacascos


What can I say about this Hot Karate Hawaiian babe? Some of you may remember him as the handsome evil guy from the movie Cradle 2 the Grave, or the cute innocent-looking kung-fu boy from the dreadful Double-Dragon… Or even, you don’t even know this hunk exists in the world of entertainment. Mark is definitely one of the underrated actors that never had the chance to really make a break though. He has worked in films for from US and Asia. I mean, he can really consider himself as an International Movie start. I has a crush on him when I saw his cameo in the video game, Wing Commander IV, back in 1996. (The cute cute cute Troy Carter) But I never really look into who this handsome beautiful man was… I got a bit carried away in playing the game. To me, he was just a random eye-candy that pops up once in a while. It was not until his character in Cradle 2 the Grave brought back those fantasies… Uh… Memories of him back into my head.

My, it has been a long time since I see him appearing on silver screen playing a major role. Glad that he has been around more and given more promising roles.

*sigh* I can never resist the charm from a dark hair dark eyes handsome fellal like him... Especially he knows martial arts! Oh my gosh! What a turn on!!! OH MARK BABY! I WANT YOU!!!

Food Place of the Day

Republic Restaurant/Bar/Noodles
37 Union Square West
New York City, NY 10003
Tel: 212-627-7172

So, it has been how long since I did a restaurant review? Too Long! I mean, it has been so long, that my favorite 1 dollar hot dog booth has migrated to another location that I couldn’t find. (No more Hoe Dog lunch for me…)

Republic, a restaurant that sits among other unique competitions in the ever-so-crowded Union Square.

Since I have always been a fan of dry noodles , that I ordered the Chicken Udon – It is basically regular Japanese udon mixed with Spinach & Coconut Milk sauce. (Yeah. Weird. I know. ) It is served semi-warm with chopped chicken and veggies. And you know what? I Love it. I love it and love it and love it and will probably not order it again. Since it cost me freakin’ 8 dollars. I mean, 8 dollars for a bowl of noodle. I can get more for 3 bucks at China town. So, it was more of a once-in-a-life-time deal. Not unless someone take me to that restaurant again and offer to buy me 5 bowls of those. (Just Kidding)

On the website, the photos of the restaurant interior look really bright. But in reality. It is not. My sister, Male Love Bird, and I went to Republic approx. at 7:15 PM. It was dark enough outside, but the moment I stepped into the restaurant, I felt like I was about the faint. Because the inside is even darker than the outside. My eyes couldn’t adjust to the sudden change of light, so I stepped in to the restaurant with great caution. But at the moment I saw the extremely pretty-faced-nice-body-hot-sexy-and-dreamy host dude, my eyes started to regain their focus. And of course, the focus was on him. Everyone else was just black blahs.

We sat on the table that is located right at the center of the common area. And the more exciting part was, there were no lights above our table. So, our source of light really depend on the neighboring lights.
But still, there were enough lights that would make the menu-reading easier. (Since it was a full house, there weren’t any other seats available)

Around 8 PM. The Lights inside of the restaurant got darker. Make it even harder to see what exactly I was eating. And the lights got darker and darker and darker….But oh well, the food was great.

The Good: Unique and yummy food.
The Bad: If you don’t have your own infrared eye goggle, then you are doomed to go blind.

It’s Friday

I woke up this morning at 6:00 Am. Then I went back to sleep.

At 6:35 AM, my eye lids popped open.

“OH SH*T! I’m gonna be late!”

I flipped my body off of the bed, and landed on the balls of my feet. Gracefully, I finished off the entire routine with an oriental style gesture. (I know what you are thinking. No. I’m not dressing up as a fairy for Halloween!)

Even though I had a late start, but I managed to get to work on time. All I had to do, is to skip my shower. (No. Don’t think about ‘Eeeewwwww’ – I used a lot of cologne this morning. I smell good. You can’t even tell that I didn’t take shower.)

So, anyway, here is the deal.

Thank gawd it’s Friday. It has been a very stressful week. Stress from all directions. Mentally, I was feeling a little fragile, and some what, a little depressed. (Kids, remember, when you feel very depressed, slap yourself 30 times with your shoe, and look in to the mirror. And pray that all these depress feeling did not create any lines on your face. ) But it’s Friday. Finally. I felt better, in a way. I’m so looking forward to sleep and wake up on Saturday late afternoon. (Oink Oink)

But something happened at work today. Even know, my heart trembles when I think about it.

Something really bad. I mean, something like this shouldn’t have often.. Especially at work.

I totally didn’t’ expect this to happen… I wish I can turn back the time… But it is too late…

No, no one found out that I didn’t take a shower, nor I smell like a dead fish.

And no, I did wear my underwear to work.

You know what happened?

I mean, this thing is so awful and dreadful… I’m sure that I’ll remember this for the rest of my life….

I can’t believe this happened to me…

I mean, why me? Why?!

I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT MY CO-WORKER SAW ME FLOSSING MY TEETH!

This is one thing that I hate, after the big boss re-arrangement our placement. All of us used to be gathered all over the place. But now, we are consolidated in one area on the floor. Before, we have to call each other using the ever-so-disgusting company phone,. But now, everyone can just stand up and talk to each other.

Well, that is what happened.

I was flossing my teeth with this painful think RADIUS silk floss (I should write a product review on this floss. This thing makes you BLEED. I mean, it is so thick that you can tie a person up with it…. Hrm… Tie up by dental floss…. Kinky…). Then all of the sudden, the girl in the cubical next to mine stood up.

“Wayne…”

And I was in the middling of pulling the thick silk floss back and forth between my teeth.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

There was a 2 second silence.

And I think she saw the blood stain on the ‘used’ portion of the floss.

I blinked my eyes.

She blinked.

Then all of the sudden, she opened her lips.

“Hi Wayne. Good Morning. Uh, I forgot what I was going to ask you.”

Then she sat back down.

I blinked.

Then I resume my dental work.

What a glamorous way to start a Friday morning, don’t you think?


Cell Phone Pic taken this morning.

Become a God or Goddess. by zerogirl
Name:
God/Goddess of	Celebration
Element:	Fire
Animal Companion:	Lion
Weak against	Food
Weapon:	Foil
Created with quill18's MemeGen!

Fire Element?! Lion?! Wow, this is making me way too butch! Heh. Hrm, Weak against food... I guess so, especially when my tummy is still acting funny... Too much food will kill me instantly.

Clarification

As of July 12, 2003 – I have been seeing a guy that I adore so much to the point that I can pee in my pants anytime. How we met? Well, Internet, of course.

When we first met, we were expecting just be friends. But who ever knew the chemistry between us had the right formula, and we clicked right away.

Aside from the physical attraction, I find his background pretty similar to mine. Mainly that he is also in the closet, and very understanding about my situation. There are not a lot of people that I can relate to, in terms of thinking process, culture and values in life.

I like him. I like him a lot. I really do.

Without wanting to go though the drama that I went though with my past relationships, I kept a thin wall between myself and him.

I’ve never consider us in a relationship. I call it “seeing.” I didn’t want to get attach too fast, since I’m a very easily attached person. Even when he first told me that he loves me, I told him that it has only been a couple months, and it is too early in the stage to say that.

What is love? I asked. Even I don’t know the answer to that. All I know, that it is a word, that should be used seriously.

Since everyone has a different definition for ‘love’ – some might take it more seriously than others. I have hurt someone dearly with the wrong usage of this word. I said “I Love You” without any thoughts about it. Without any confirmation of how I feel about this him. It shattered my ex-Bf #2’s heart into million pieces, and has left him a permanent scar in his memory. And I don’t want history to repeat itself.

To me, when the times comes, Love will come out of my lips naturally.

We have talked about lots of things. I have also let him acknowledge the fact, that most likely one day, I will return to California. Because that is where I call home. Him too, been constantly looking for a new job, that he is willing and ready to go any where the job takes him. Especially he has been looking into governmental jobs… Where most of the available jobs are outside of New York.
When we first met, I have specify that I’m ultimately looking for a long term relationship. Yet, my currently living situation really made this difficult. Just let him know ahead of time, that could happen in the future. Yet, things will probably change. I mean, future is unpredictable and filled with surprises, right?

What ever happens, let it happen. Just enjoy each other’s company, day by day, week by week.

Just 2 weeks ago, I was approached by a very good looking guy (Italian, I think – I’ve never asked) asking me out. I mean, this guy is tall, dark hair, dark eyes… Just around my height and… I mean, physically, he’s very attractive. Someone that I would considerate going out on a date with. But I take a look at Paw’s picture in my cell phone, and then told him that I’m already seeing someone very special. (Besides, I don’t date multiple people at the same time, that’s just not me.)

At that point, I said to myself…”That’s my man.” And it is at that time, the thin wall that I built is no longer there.

I guess I have become more attached than I thought I would be.

This morning, we chatted over Instant Messenger, over me trying to stay from my sister’s personal life in terms of the her drama with the male love bird.
Then I mention how I would expect my family to stay away from my personal life as well. Especially after I came out to them. They will probably do everything and anything to set me up with a girl.
Then he popped the question.

Paw: Would you consider marrying?

Wayne: No. Well, yeah, but with a man, not a woman.

Paw: Have you ever dated a woman?

Wayne: I find women beautiful and physically attractive. But I’m not sexually attracted to them.

Paw: You never went out with a woman?

Wayne: Why would I want to date a woman, when I know I have no interests?

Paw: But have you tried?

Wayne: Would you eat a dish that you have never tried before, and have absolute no interest in eating? Just like scanning though the menu in a restaurant, when certain dish that just don’t caught your attention, or don’t fit what you are looking for, then you will never order it, right?

Paw: Okay. I get your point. Sorry that I asked.

Wayne: No need to be sorry. I’m just giving you a piece of my mind.

Paw: Okay.

I pulse for a couple seconds. Then I typed….

Wayne: Would you consider marrying?

Paw: Yes. I told you I had gf before.

At that point, I felt like an acid arrow had strike though my chest and deeply into my heart. The sense of sourness merges from my chest and up to my nose. For a second, I thought that my heart had skipped a beat, because it started to beat faster and faster.

I took a couple deep breaths, and let out the sourness out of my body.

Wayne: Gfs, you mean. You had more than one.

Paw: Yeah.

And this is the cue that I need to end the conversation.

Wayne: Phone, I’ve gotta go. Ttyl!

Paw: Bye bye. Ttyl.

Then I closed my AIM. I wasn’t sure how I can continue to carry a text - conversation with him, without starting to ask him…

“What about me?”

“What about us?”

“What’s the purpose of us seeing each other, when you know you will marry a woman and have kids?”

At least, not today. Not now. Not online. I need sometime to think it over.

It’s funny. Just couple days ago, after so many things happened to my internet friends…. Then family… My sister and her boyfriend… I have been expecting something to happen to me.

Maybe this is it.

Or I'm thinking too much.

We've never talked about this being a long term relationship anyway, why am I feeling this way?