CONdomFESSION

Men, in their deepest desire for pleasure, had the smartest idea, created a super object, and called it "condom."

I have a confession to make, a story to tell, and a rumor to spread. So bear with me.

Here's my confession:
I've been keeping a condom inside my purse for three years and six months now. That is because men tend to forget what condom is for. Just in case, you know.

Here's a story and I call it "The Tale of the Used Condom."

My friend Andrea texted me. It was a surprise because it wasn't the usual quotation or forwarded message I am used to receiving. It was a short, straightforward question.

IS IT NORMAL FOR PEOPLE IN A RELATIONSHIP TO HAVE SEX?

I told her it is normal for people IN A RELATIONSHIP to have sex. You have love, you have lust, and you have a man, what more can you ask for? Abnormal are couples who let the whole world know they're doing it. It's like seeing a lovey-dovey couple holding hands, wearing similar white tees with the words "I'm ready to hit cloud 9, baby" printed in red bold letters.

And we are in the Philippines, not in the big apple, or in Vegas where casual sex and one-night-stand is comparable to hitting a bar after a five-course meal. We are moving in a society full of judgmental eyes ready to spear us with their lashes at every wrong move. In a place like the Philippines, we don't have the guts to talk about sex openly. The word "fuck buddy" is replaced by euphemisms such as "boy friend" or "girl friend." Here, in our society, it is a little below average to have sex, ESPECIALLY when it's just after TWO WEEKS of plunging into the so-called relationship.

Andrea told me her brother asked her to eat lunch together, and while her brother orders food, Andrea opened his bag to borrow his mobile phone. She unzipped the bag and was surprised to see a used condom instead of a cell phone. Andrea wasn't able to look at her brother's eyes the whole lunch.

So where do we draw the line? When do we say that sex is normal? And when did used condoms become the latest collection?

On the other part of the university, there is this couple I know, and who everyone labeled as the most active couple. By active, I mean seeing Lyn in her guy's varsity shirt plus messy hair in a 7am class. It also means seeing her in the shortest short we can imagine, and we can't help but think it's for easy access. Rumor has it that Miggi doesn't know the whole condom concept which validates seeing them coming out of the hospital frequently. I am not being judgmental here. All these are Lyn's words.

Well, I really don't know. Condom is supposed to make our lives easier. It was created by genius minds to help get all the pleasure we wanted. We have spotted, scented, and flavored condoms to perfectly suit our libidos. But what? A used condom found in a bag meant a brother and sister drifting apart. A guy who does not us condoms means a girl's panic attack when her period delays. As for me, I have another confession. I said earlier that I've been keeping a condom in my purse for three years and six months now. Truth is, it's the same condom I bought three years and six months ago.

I have the condom, but I don't have the guy. It's been three years and six months of drought, and I can't believe I'm still alive.

The search for Mr. Normal continues

I have dated Hero back in high school. He looks good, speaks nicely, and is simple. A year later, I found out he's gay.

Alex, the boy-next-door keeps looking at girls crossing the neighborhood with desire. (And I can't seem to forget the look on his face.)

John Carlos, the guy I just met recently told me he loves me. But the next day, he got married to another woman.

Then there's Michael, my 26 year old guy pal who apparently falls in love with all the young girls around. All his ex-girlfriends are 17 years old. Surprisingly, his current girlfriend Nadine is sixteen.

And there's Louis, my two-timer cousin who doesn't know the meaning of monogamy.

Let's not forget about Wilson. He's one of my classmates in college who is quite unforgettable because of his hot-air-balloon-head that is just about to explode.

And to be fair, I will include my half brother Alexis and his closet collection of porn cds and magazines.

And I will never ever forget Marlene's boyfriend Chris who videotaped their love-making and used it as a blackmail whenever Marlene tries to break up.

ARE ALL MEN FREAKS?

I just can't seem to find even a single decent guy. I've seen so many guys acting foolish and stupid (no offense.)

On my way home, I'd look around and check if the guy walking in front of me is normal. I've tried observing my the men arround me and sad to say, they seem less than normal.

Also, I'd occasionally check if my girlfriends' boyfriends are at least OK. Well of course they'd tell me that their boyfriends are great. But months after, they'd come to me, crying, cursing their boyfriends, or ex-boyfriends rather, telling me that I was right all along. They'd tell me they were wrong for falling for the freaks.

From here, my search for the NORMAL-AVERAGE-DECENT GUY continues.

She is hiding

In my previous entry, I told about our concept of beauty.

I went to my nephew's party in San Pablo. Then I noticed their neighbor, a girl about 17 years old. She was hiding behind their screen door and I wondered why. While everyone went out for the clowns' magic show, she kept hiding.

Later I found out from my aunts and uncles that she has very low self esteem. She looks thrice the size of an average 17-year-old girl. Enough for her to pity herself and be scared to come out in the open.

I know because I used to be obese. I used to be the center of laughter back in high school. I used to be the underdog, the laughing stock. And I know how it felt. I know what she feels.

I remember, back in the old days, I would just cry when they laugh at me, I would just pity myself. It's not nice when all you hear is their mockery. It is not nice when all they say is that you look like a filthy pig.

Four years after, I managed to take off all the unwanted pounds and the boys from high school (the same boys who once laughed hard at me) began courting me.

Karma goes round and round.

Men are freaks

Men are all freaks. They suck.

Here's an excerpt of the chat I just had a minute ago:

johndy guaro: do u have experience b4?
miss stranger: what experience
johndy guaro: u know what i mean
miss stranger: i wonder why so many people are so obesessed with sex
miss stranger: just like you
johndy guaro: is there anything wrong?
miss stranger: nothing really
johndy guaro: so?
miss stranger: it's just that it's strange
johndy guaro: did u?
miss stranger: why do men have the guts to ask women about sex online?
miss stranger: and they don't have the balls to ask someone they know in real life
miss stranger: i'm pretty sure if we talk face to face, you won't have the balls to ask me about it

I think he got what he's looking for. He didn't reply anymore. Now, where are the balls of these men? They look so strong when they are hiding. They are all weak.

Are you looking for the perfect one?

Why is our concept of beauty so distorted?

So many are complaining that they are not getting any younger yet they are still very much single. I wonder.

What is our concept of beauty? What is our standards?

Why can't we settle for the guy with a beer belly, or the guy who farts, or the guy who has two left feet, or the guy with pimples all over his face, or the guy who is an inch shorter? And why can't men settle for the girls who are fat, or who is not long-legged, or is not sexy, or who isn't really flawless?

I wonder, if people didn't have too much expectations, if only they set their standards within the levels of reality, then this world would be a much easier and better place to live in. There would be happier people. There would be warmer nights, then snogging and cuddling will come in very handy.

Admit it or not, we are all modelizers (people who drool over models.) We fall prey to the models along ads in EDSA. We dream and hope to catch one of the perfect breed. We want our future man to be at least 5 feet 11 inches tall, handsome, with fair skin. And the men, they would fall in love only with the girls who are at least 5 feet 5 inches tall, with long legs, great boobs, and fair complexion. See, I told you. We are all way outside our league.

I'm not saying we should lower down our standards and go hook up with the boy or girl sitting next to you. I'm just saying we should at least get real, accept flaws, give chance, and don't just look on the physique. After all, everything is not about beauty.

We don't have to realize it the hard way.

Fill the empty space

Because I am deprived of good sex (and I don't really know how I manage to get by) I've thought of having one night stands with just any random stranger who would give in just to fill the empty space. You don't want to know how many times I thought about it.

They say men think of sex almost every 12 minutes. I say, I think of sex every free time I get. One of my fantasies include one night stand. But there are still so many things stopping me from plunging into the world of my fantasy. One of the things is my emotions. You may think I am old-fashioned but I don't think I can make love without being emotionally involved. And I'm scared that if I just hook up with a stranger, it just might lead to bad sex. And there is no way I would hook up with a friend because you know what happens next after sex. There would be rumors and detachments, enough for me to decide to move to another city.

You know it's quite interesting why I hear strangers talking of their friends who've had one night stands and I don't even know one. I hear them talking about it in the MRT station, in Gateway, in restaurants.

Strange, how many people talks about it and yet I don't know anyone who've committed a one-night-stand-no-strings-attached sex. Or maybe they just won't admit it to me.

There are so many who loves sex and yet they are so shy to admit it. This is the problem with most of us. We don't want to get dirty. We always want to come out clean. We'll do things that are beyond our control and yet regret it in the long run. So no matter how good sex we get, we deny it in front of our friends, afraid they might think of us as maniacs, whores, easy, whatsoever. It happens because we don't understand our real feelings. We are not sure of what we want which makes everything all the more complicated.

But I think I will have to thank my friends for the moment who remain discrete with their rendezvous. At least, I won't have to envy them.

Cold and lonely nights

I don't know. It's so hard to get sex. Believe it or not, we are all deprived of good sex.

How many single people are there walking in the streets of loneliness? There are a lot. A whole lot of people who wants to get laid but just can't. I have wondered long enough and asked myself how many people would want to get laid at night? There are a lot, but only a few can get it.

So this whole lot just proceed to the usual masturbation to get through another lonely and cold night.

Funny when I look back and count the days. It's been three years and five months since I last had sex. Three years and five months of cold and lonely nights. And yes, I masturbate to get through all those nights when I long for someone who would keep me warm.

And it is satisfying. The feeling is great. Always better than what I felt three years and five months ago. And now I fear. I fear that when time comes and I meet someone new, I won't get the satisfaction I get every time I masturbate.

What if he isn't good enough?

Well, maybe I don't have to worry yet because there is still no one in particular.

Besides, I know I'll get through every cold and lonely night the way I did the past three years and five months of drought.