Calaidescope World

All The Wrong Boys Will Someday Lead to The Right Man

I've said it once, and I'll say it again: all the good guys are either taken, gay or expatriated.

Case in point: the Fab 5. Three of them are both gay AND taken. And since it all happened in a span of one week, let's throw the maliciously witty American-in-Paris writer David Sedaris in, too. How sad is it that a day after my cast was removed, when I was still learning how to walk again and relied very heavily on my crutches, Andaya and I had to wake up early on a Saturday morning, dress quite well, and line up with hundreds of people to meet gay men? Oh yes, we spent around Php600 each to buy copies of the New York Times Best Seller Queer Eye for the Straight Guy: The Fab 5's Guide to Looking Better, Cooking Better, Dressing Better, Behaving Better, and Living Better from Power Books just so we could get a seat, a book signing pass, and our picture taken with the most wonderful men one could ever meet and could never have. But did we bother watching INXS in concert with MiG Ayesa and The Dawn? Nooooo!




A few days later, there we were in Power Books' Alabang Town Centre branch waiting in a short line to meet one of my favorite writers, David Sedaris (Barrel Fever, Naked, The Santaland Diaries, Me Talk Pretty One Day). It didn't matter that he was gay and accompanied on this trip by his boyfriend, Hugh. Give me a man who can write and converse the way Sedaris does, and I'm likely to follow him almost anywhere he goes just to hear what he thinks about the weather. Sometimes, there's just no substitute for intellectual banter.

This seems to add a little teeth to psychologist Sigmund Freud's observation that we are all bisexual and tend to flock towards those who are most like us or who we'd like to be. C'mon, admit it. How many of you women out there don't have a girl crush on Angelina Jolie or Storm Large, or would like to emulate Audrey Hepburn? And how many men wish they were as cool as (or admitedly have a boy crush on) Bono or Sting, or wish they had a body like Brad Pitt's in Troy? Honestly, there's nothing wrong with saying "nakakabakla si Richard Gomez". But gay men are a lot like women, hence the proliferation of gossiping fag hags in coffee shops and bars. Gay men, metrosexuals and straight women understand each other on a lot of levels. But opposites do attract, and not enough can ever be said about couples complementing each other.

I've had my fair share of morantic blunders, thus my almost constant state of single blessedness. I'm picky. Very. But how can I not be without even starting a list of what went wrong with they-who-must-not-be-named? And just look at the men in my family and my male friends: they set the standard by being good looking (especially my cousins), most of them are gentlemen, they're all smart, they drink like fish, most of the time they're funny, and there are so many lessons to be learned from their lives (e.g., I wouldn't go out with some of them even if the entire human race depended on it). Is there no science project out there that will allow me to take certain aspects from each of them to create my perfect man? You know, important ingredients like Benjor's creativity, Hans' quick wit, JR's housekeeping skills, Celso's style, etc.? I am not one to content myself with crumbs. I want the whole freaking cake. I'm not the world's best catch, but some of us are someone's better half if we decide not to become priests, brothers, monks or nuns. I'm so good at setting people up, but can't do the same for myself. Perhaps good karma will come to me in the form of the aforementioned science project.

Yet this is something I realised last year (and Gabby pointed it out to me as well): what guy, in his right mind, will approach me in Greenbelt or The Fort when I'm in the centre of what appears to be my entourage made up of good looking, well-dressed guys, one of whom is a 6'4" tall former professional basketball player, and two are kilabot ng bayan? I know that The Art of Seduction dictates that this guaratees a certain sense of desirability, but I doubt that it has the same effect in this country where half the men are torpe and the other half are just too macho to risk being embarrassed.

I guess that means I have to make myself easy to find. Do I have enough female friends to hang out with that will not risk my being overshadowed by them? Most of my closest friends are boys (all protective in their strange ways), and I'm also close to their families. I know four sets of parents that want me for their sons. Unfortunately, those sons and I will never survive outside the Friend Zone. So not only will my future Mr. Right need guts to meet my personal standards, but my family's and friends' as well. Because there are so many of them, shall I organise a press conference with the Hernandez family alone?

I know that I will never hold the official title "Mrs" (let alone "girlfriend") of Neil Gaiman, Paul David Hewsen, Larry Mullen, Gordon Sumner, Fred Uytengsu, Fernando Zobel de Ayala, or Jaime Zobel de Ayala. And thank God I'm no longer attached to they-who-must-not-be-named (although I did go through a "what if...?" stage after a chance reunion, so to speak, with the-dolt-that-got-away. Now there's a benchmark and proof that my type exists). But am I not allowed to ask God that I be found by someone like Sting or Bono? And for that someone to be the athletic, fashion-forward-without-being-too-metrosexual-to-be-mistaken-for-gay, musically inclined, well-read, well-travelled, witty type who can cook a three-course meal that doesn't include Spam, and dances well? No more artists, please, and no more basketball players with injured knees and jealous ex-girlfriends. No more lost boys in search of themselves and chasing shadows. And no more men who don't know how to spell "spaghetti" and don't know that the Irish speak English. Lord, have mercy!

It amazes me to look back and see how I have outgrown a handful of the wrong kind, and have actually learned from them. It's as if all the Mr. Right Nows are steps towards finding a Mr. Right, like weeding out what works and what doesn't. When we need to let go, we NEED to let go. Otherwise, us ladies will never be a Ms. Right either. Good God, what standards might Mr. Right and his family and friends have? Ladies, not only should we let go, but we must move on!

When I first read The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho assured me, his dear reader, that the Universe will one day give me what I deserve. The Universe has indeed delivered in terms of family, friends and work. When drinking, Tanya, Sobee and I used to toast, "To being the best." Tanya has her Miggy, and Sobee has her...uh...job. For now. I'm sure she'll meet someone perfect for her one day. As for me? Although I have Max (dogs are more loyal than men), Xandra has also taught me well. She told me that the best, no matter how slowly, is yet to come - and he will get here only after all the idiots have done their worst. So rather than sit here waiting, I enjoy the company of men (straight, metrosexual and gay) who have become my brothers, who have become friends that I cannot imagine my life without, people who help make life beautiful. Actually, all of them do nothing but continue to raise my standards.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again: all the good guys are either taken, gay or expatriated. One day, one of them will be taken by me.

posted by Calai @ 5:04 PM