The Viking and His Hoard

The Viking came from a long string of friends (or non-friends) who has surprisingly endeared his presence into the circle of people I value. A self-confessed manwhore, he has regaled us with stories of carnal conquests without even batting an eyelash and revealed details of such conquests in a truly vivid and descriptive manner. There is also the matter of his fondness for Cannabis sativa which really just sends his already-weird sense of thought into another psychedelic dimension. And let’s not forget how he loves to argue and debate and masticate issues well into the night (and VERY early morning) until you are exhausted beyond belief. For all the things that irritate, annoy, disgust, nauseate, and offend me about his nature, he has wormed his way into one of the people that I believe has become indispensable.

Through The Viking, I have met all sorts of people from different walks of life. He, a foreigner, has amassed more friends in his two-year stay in this country than I ever have. There have been artists and photographers, models and singers, teachers and rockers, Poker players and dancers (I assume of the exotic kind), virgins and nymphos, the prudes and the prouds, and many other assortment of oddballs and nutcases, all with their quirks and idiosyncrasies.

Just like The Peruvian Princess and Dutchboy, I have met and learned so much from every new friend that I have made through them. Although I may not necessarily agree with their beliefs or share their obsession and enthusiasm for a particular vice, I can certainly appreciate the difference of the lifestyle they lead, as compared to mine. There’s The Poker Master and his lovely girlfriend, The Rockstar Dad and his pregnant girlfriend, Friend Who Got Busted For Buying Weed, The Supplier (of, yes, you guessed it, weed), The Couchsufing Canadian (and through her, The Football Coach), The Gaychitect, and so many others.

Vend-tia at Total with The Poker Master

The Poker Master, The Viking, Friend Who Got Busted For Buying Weed

The Canadian Couchsurfer and Friend (lol)

The adventures that I’ve had with these people, dropping The Viking off (and picking him up SEVERAL TIMES) at the airport after his missed his flights (PLURAL), staying up all night playing cards at a gas station, getting a lesson in seduction and the fine art of trashy clothing, closing Tabu in the wee hours (drunkenly) singing to heart’s content, is only the tip of the iceberg. Sure, some nights have just started and ended with steady drinking at some dive bar or blazing it up in someone’s room trying to hide the smell from their mother, but it’s those moments that make a friendship. It’s when you actually take time and just hang with a person that you see what they’re all about. I’ve listened to their versions of love and life and, truth be told, some of those confessions have helped me along as well. Of course it’s not in the grand way where you wake up and you’re suddenly a different person. But I know it and I feel it that when I’m with them, those ideologies and thoughts have a certain kind of effect on me. The kind that’s barely noticeable, hovering just beneath the surface of stark reality. I can easily say that knowing The Viking (and his merry band of misfits) has changed me. Some people *coughungratefulgitcough* are just too scared of touching someone’s life. Isn’t that what we all want anyways? To make a difference .. to be a difference to at least ONE person? Why such fear of leaving your mark? Just because you leave it with ONE person, doesn’t make the experience any less. Sometimes it’s that one great thing they leave away with.

The Viking has brought all these people and all these ideas into my life and I could not be more grateful. Though the relationship started out as casual, making “whatever happens, happens” plans, it has grown into something more. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that this is something huge and enormous but this is something that I want to pay attention to. The relationship has become important, just as my friends’ happiness have become important to me. And though I’ve already seen The Viking off (a couple of times, to be exact), I know that, unlike some relationships *coughungratefulgitcough*, I wouldn’t want to write off this one. The Viking and I have been through A LOT (hudathunk?) and it’s surprising how much I let him know me. The Me that only my closest friends know. The Me that even I’m scared to face every now and then. I know I’ll forever be grateful for him and the good times we’ve had together, from Flat Eric to Speed Dating rehearsals to hypotethical teleportation papers to playing middle man in an already heated scenario to steady beers and a fat joint. Who knows? Saying goodbye could just be the precursor to the adventure of a lifetime. Maybe I’ll even carry on the adik wave all the way to Sweden and return the favor. Sounds good, ja? Ja, definitivt.

United Nations

Meeting new people is always awkward and exhilarating. I love the fact that I am challenged to find something in common with them or how I could get along with someone not so agreeable. If anything, meeting new people is a study of what kind of person I have become and how I cope with my ever-changing surroundings. Don’t get me wrong, I love meeting new people just to get to know them but for me, there’s more to it than an exchange of cultures, ideas, and moments. Everything about it excites me, keeps me on my toes. I’ve met more people this year than I ever have in the decades that I’ve walked this planet (save for Ateneo OrSem) and the time I’ve spent with them has made me feel grateful that there are other interesting people out there, outside of my own comfortable circle.

I met Dutchboy and Dutchman at a bar in AVenue. From what I recall, it was a Friday night and Bebot Angel (along with Japayuki) called for a drinking session. I wanted to bail because I was dressed so shabbily and I knew they had a penchant for going to posh bars where there was a dress code and a very judgmental bouncer at the door. Bebot Angel reassured me that this was just going to laid back and steady. I agreed and met her at a Starbucks somewhere with my huge RED Liverpool laptop bag in tow. We ended up in Attica, eating and driking the night away. Dutchboy bumped into (a very tipsy) me on the “dancefloor” and started dancing alongside, doing some sort of “dance” that can only be descibed as “monkey flinging poo”. I don’t remember quite well how I got introduced to The Dutchman but apparently I did and by the end of the night, we all were exchanging numbers. During the course of this new-found friendship, we have since invited Dutchman and Dutchboy to have lunch in Tagaytay and a little sightseeing. On that day, we met the Peruvian Princess who worked with Dutchboy.

L-R: Dutchman, Dutchboy, Peruvian Princess, Clinically Insane

(photo taken from Clinically Insane‘s Facebook)

Through Peruvian Princess, I have met the rest of their international co-workers and we’ve hung out a couple of times to drink or hang at their pad or go to dance class on Saturdays. Yes, she got me to commute and then pay someone to hurt me and make me sweat.  He he he ~

L-R: Ms. Poland, Dutchboy, Mr. Canada, Ms. Solvakia, Peruvian Princess

(photo taken from Peruvian Princess‘s Facebook)

Peruvian Princess with Ms. Romania and Ms. Canada

(taken from Ms. Romania and Ms. Canada’s Facebooks)

At first, it was kinda tough to get along with them since they were all from different backgrounds to begin with and that they all work at the same place. So pretty much, I was left up to listening to them talk about their day at the office or what’s been happening in their personal lives. Being the talker, this was no easy feat but it was also kinda refreshing (in a frustrating kind of way) because I was forced to be the listener for once. And you know what? It ain’t so bad.