Possibly groundbreaking things

There was a big fire yesterday, as most of you know. It was so big, you could see the smoke all the way from our office building.

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Work was really exciting today, as we just finished a photoshoot with Rica Paras, who along with Justine Ferrer made Philippine television a much friendlier place for transfolk.

Rica isn't just fun to have around, she's fiercely intelligent as well. She was very articulate during the interview and held nothing back, and was game with anything that we asked her to do.

And to see how people would react to her! We shot some of the photos at a high school near the office, and male and female students would follow her around and had no qualms at all telling her that they loved her. It was such a beautiful thing to watch.

Another great thing: When this issue goes out, our paper will be the first one in the country with a trans person featured prominently on its pages. At least as far as I know.

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Gay teen worried he might be Christian. I quote:

""I don't know what's happening to me," Faber admitted to reporters Monday. "It's like I get these weird urges sometimes, and suddenly I'm tempted to go behind my friends' backs and attend a megachurch service, or censor books in the school library in some way. Even just the thought of organizing a CD-burning turns me on."

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Pope says gays endanger humanity. I won't even bother with you, Papa Razzi.

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Channing Tatum's meat is well done. I quote once again:

"Channing Tatum's penis is gross. It looks like a hot dog that's been left too long on the grill. The tip is hot-pink, singed, and shriveled. It appears angry. And it's painful to view. My penis hurts just from looking at it. Movie stars tend to be vain, by nature and profession, but Chan—that's what everyone calls him—does not mind one bit showing me his sad, withered wiener. 'It was the most painful thing I have ever experienced in my life,' he says, flipping through photos on his iPhone until he lands on a grainy snapshot of a scorched member. His scorched member. 'I'm good . . . now,' he says with a grin. 'Now my penis is fantastic! One hundred percent recovered. Put me back in the game, Coach.'"

Band Aid

I think it's been more than a month now since I last put up a post, and trust me when I say it's not from lack of trying. It's just that the past month at work has been incredibly taxing, what with a co-worker going on maternity leave when our group is understaffed already, and I've had to do a lot of extra work.

It hasn't been all bad, though. Just yesterday I was covering Rock Ed Philippines' Rock The Riles, an annual event held in celebration of International Human Rights Day. There were about 120 bands scattered in eight stations of the Metro Rail Transit, and while it was tiring making my way from station to station, it certainly was exhilarating to listen to these bands play and have the opportunity to dance and sing and just make a fool of oneself on the train stations without having to worry about being cuffed by guards.

The week before that, I was coordinating with Rock Ed for a project our section was working on for our office, which involved me helping organize a concert featuring four bands. Definitely not the easiest thing in the world to accomplish -- I was running around wringing my hands up until the very last minute.