The Birthday Saga 3

continued

22 September 2007

Still tired from the previous night, I put on Lawrence’s tank top and wore my shoes and ran to the grocery store to get something I could make for dinner. I wanted to cook for Lawrence, to show my gratitude for letting us celebrate my birthday in his well-situated apartment.

It was 7pm. I had planned to go back home 4 hours back. But there was something in Lawrence’s apartment that just made me not want to leave. I could smell the promise of yet another big night.

I fancied making one of my specialties --- menudo perhaps, or afritada, or salpicao, or stroganoff. But it was a Saturday. Wellcome was packed and the queues were long. Plus, not counting the protein shake and bananas we had at 5, this was gonna be our first meal for the day. So I opted for something less complicated. Something that took less time to cook: Remi’s dry adobo.

By 8:30, Lawrence, another Ryan who swung by and claimed he was there to greet me happy birthday, and I were at the dining table eating like famished refugees, talking about plans for the night in between gulps.

Four hours and a bottle of Chardonnay later, I was deciding whether I should take the train back to Tung Chung or stay in the city. “What is it that makes you want to go home?” Lawrence asked me.

“I have nothing to wear,” I responded quickly.

He went into his room and quickly threw a black shirt to me.

“Ok, I’m going out with you.”

By 1:00, we were at Volume. In less than 10 minutes, our party has grown from pair to a group of 6. I haven’t even finished my first glass of white when something happened that got Lawrence upset. He then came up to me and said, “Finish your drink. We’re partying at my place.” I got excited.

Two cabs stopped by Patterson Street in Causeway Bay, just in front of Calvin Klein and dropped us all off. It was 2am of September 23 --- the beginning of yet another long night.




Home Sweet Home
23 September 2007

I woke up by mid-afternoon and hurriedly hopped in the shower. Lawrence was still asleep. I didn’t want to wake him up for two reasons: I knew he was tired, and because I knew I might not be able to go home again if he woke up before I left. As I was putting on my shoes, though, he half-opened his eyes. And before he could even ask anything, I smiled at him and said “Bye. Thanks again! Call you later.”

I got home and neither Dan nor Mamu there. It was only 7 pm. I was lying on my bed, reminiscing how good the weekend has been when Dan came in and said, “Welcome back, bakla!” We chuckled. “How was your weekend getaway?” he teasingly asked.

I was going on and on about the happenings over the past two nights when he said that I needed to cover my eyes. He handed my striped scarf and let me do it by myself.

He then handed a box --- something I had been waiting for all week.

My new Ipod Classic! Yay! My birthday’s almost complete.

When my excitement has waned a bit and I’ve calmed down already, we started recording Ep 11 of our podcast, where Dan and I talked about my childhood, my influences and my dreams --- stuff that I’ve neglected to ponder on because I’ve been busy partying like a son of a bitch.

will be continued. promise.

The Birthday Saga 2

continued

The Day
21 September 2007

I woke up to an sms from my ex, which read: "I sent you USD*** thru Western Union. MCTN is 947 *** ****. Text me when u get it. God bless! Mwah!"

It wasn’t that big. But it was more than enough to ensure me a decent lunch, a birthday dinner, a few rounds of drinks (for myself and a for few friends), cab rides, some goodies and 3 packs of cigarettes for my birthday; I didn’t have to be scrupulously frugal on my “Big Day”. And it was more than enough for me to feel loved and cared for.

So I left home 30 minutes earlier than I should to claim the money. I sent my ex a thank you sms. His response was quick. It said, “No problem. Wag ka na iiyak ha? Enjoy your day, birthday boy! (No problem. No more crying, ok? Enjoy your day, birthday boy!)”

When I got to work, the first person I saw was Belle. (Rewind to: Sept 20, when I asked her for a cigarette. Without any hesitation, she gave one of her last few sticks to me. I apologized for being such a parasite. I told her I just didn’t have the money to buy ciggies anymore. She just laughed and said it was so not like me to be acting forlorn, self-sorry and affected by the lack of money. But I was. I really was.) She saw me approaching the theater. She waved and yelled “Happy birthday!” as if we wouldn’t be seeing each other in a matter of seconds. When I got to where she was sitting, she gave me a hug and handed a pack of Marlboro Reds. Then she said, “Bibilan dapat kita ng isang boteng red wine para may iinumin ka mamaya. Sobrang nakalimutan ko. (I was gonna buy you a bottle of red wine so that you could have something to drink tonight. It totally slipped my mind.)”


I got inside the theater and Verna saw me. In her high-pitched voice, she delivered her greetings with a smile, and a peculiar broadening of the eyes. She looked as though she did something clever. She came up to me and said, “Sorry I couldn’t afford a pricey gift. Here’s one for someone broke, from someone broke.” She handed a Pie & Tart bag then we both craked up.

To be honest, Belle’s red wine wasn’t necessary. Nor was anything “pricey” from Verna. The pack of ciggies and the little cakes were more than enough to let me know that they cared. And listened.

One more heart-warming birthday greeting from a friend:

“Haburday, kuya! Isa kang inspirasyon sa kin, hindi lang bilang isang bading kundi bilang isang self-actualized na tao. (Happy birthday! You are an inspiration to me, not just as a gay man but as one self-actualized individual as well.)” – Miro Crame, via sms

The day felt different. I was too emotional and I struggled all day from keeping that from other people’s view. Not the I’m-feel-so-sorry-for-myself kind that I wallowed in days prior to my birthday. But the life-is-so-beautiful-and I’m-just-thankful-for being-alive kind. In show, I couldn’t help but get misty hearing the words to the song “Circle of Life”:

From the day we arrived on the planet

And blinking, stepped into the sun

There is more to see than can ever be seen

More to do than can ever be done

Funny, I’ve been hearing this song at least 3 times every day over the past 27 months. It was never so meaningful until this very moment.

Early evening that same day, I was at the train station going home from work. I got a call from Belle, the same girl who I thought brushed me off the previous day but made me feel special on my birthday by giving me a simple but very thoughtful gift. She suggested --- no, insisted --- that I meet up with her and her boyfriend Jojo for dinner. Nervously --- dinner with them wasn’t in my budget --- I asked what they wanted to eat. Very quickly, Jojo decided Thai. Belle must’ve felt my hesitation to go for dinner, she immediately said “It’s on us.”



Birthday Weekend City Getaway

I headed home right after dinner and checked my email and other online accounts for birthday messages. There were too many, that I didn’t get to reply to all of them. (Right now, I’m still working on an e-thank you card that I should’ve sent out days ago. I just couldn’t find a fitting image to go with it. Sigh.) By 9pm, I decided to log off and start getting ready for my birthday night-out. I was gonna meet up with friends at Volume by 11.

On the train to Central, I called Julius. It was embarrassing that I wasn’t able to give him the time and attention he deserved when he called me at work earlier that day. The show was starting and the overture was already rising to a crescendo. I was not supposed to be on the phone. So I dialled his London number to make it up to him, and to show my appreciation for his call.

I got to Volume a quarter past 11. The place was already busy. The first familiar person that I saw was Tony, my foster father #1. We were together at the same place just 2 days back. And he remembered that it was my birthday. He greeted me and everybody else he was with, even those I was never introduced to, followed suit. I excused myself soon after that to be with a good friend, Andy, who was on the other side of the bar.

Andy is an English cabin crew working for Qantas. He wasn’t supposed to be in town but he managed to swap his flights so that he could be here on my birthday weekend. A little later, Tom, another English guy whom I’ve met in Volume a few weeks back joined us with his friend, Cecilia. Then Rabbi arrived. Then Val. Our party was complete already. It was time to leave and go to Lawrence’s place in CWB for a more intimate gathering. Tom and Cecilia decided not to come.

Few minutes before 1am, Lawrence put on his party cd, got his cam ready and instructed Val, Rabbi, Andy and me to grab the Japanes shooters he got from Wellcome. We made a toast and Lawrence took the first pic for the night.

It was a fun night. There were only five of us and we were all there to just celebrate life and have a good time. We talked about a host of varied subjects ranging from my toenails, to blogging, to food, career, all through the sweet associations we are all grateful for. The party ended at around 7 in the morning. It’s been a long night. Despite that, and our outrageous alcohol and Disney sweets consumption, we greeted aurora with a smile and a positive vibe.

no, we didn't have an orgy.

but we wanted a photo that would make people think we did.

...will be continued. promise.

Mon Anniversaire (The Podcast Documentation)

S2 Ep11.1, "Happy Brthday, Rye! (the party bit)", Out Now!

with an ipod in one hand and a camera in the other, the ever-reliable best-friend-cum-official-photographer-slash-podcaster, Dan, covers the dream birthday party of glittery-debutante-slash-slutty-bartender Rye at Volume.

with special guests and the much-awaited comeback of alcoholic-slash-rye's-stylist-and-very-very-dear-friend, Chris.

http://thedanandryeshow.mypodcast.com/

like always, please send us your comments, views, etc. thedanandryeshow@yahoo.com

..

The Birthday Saga

The revelries for my 27th birthday was officially gonna start by the eve of the 21st. People would be greeting me one after the other as soon as the clock ticked 12. It was the universal birthday SOP and there was nothing new about it. I was prepared for that.

But something unexpected happened. Well, to better put it, something we had expected to happen didn’t happen, which, consequently led me to a state of broke-ness.



The Accidental Beginnings.
18 September 2007

The birthday blues were already starting to infect me. In order to prevent us ---me in particular --- from feeling any worse, Dan, Chris and I decided to stick together all night, while waiting for some “good news” to come. It was to arrive at 11pm. We had 3 hours to kill. We decided to eat and have a few drinks, maybe. But where? We barely had the money to get ourselves a Big Mac meal. Dan had an idea --- I’m not sure if it was because of desperation or hunger, but at the moment, it seemed to be the most brilliant suggestion I’ve ever heard from anyone for so long.

He had just what we needed that very moment to be saved from hunger and self-humiliation:

We hurried to the grocery to pick up a bottle of Cabernet Merlot, some sharp, mature cheddar cheese (that was the cheapest), pre-packed sushi, a gallon of apple juice, some plastic cups and a candle. We stalled in the middle of a dark public park and set up our little candlelight dinner there. We may have looked funny and utterly poor. I didn’t care. I was with friends, and we weren’t hungry. And we had booze too! Life isn’t unfair, after all.


At 11, no good news came. Bad news --- there was none either. There was nothing at all that came. We were stood up! We sort of felt sorry and pissed at the same time. More pissed than sorry, though. I was with friends who were just as broke as I was and the impromptu get-together we had officially marked the start of my birthday week. There was no reason to wallow in self-pity. I was broke. But I was loved, nonetheless.

The Story Of The Unwanted Shoes
19 September 2007

*published on Sept. 20, entitled, "I Hope It's Just The Birthday Blues"



Almost There.
20 September 2007

So I have already decided that what I was feeling can be categorized under "Birthday Blues". Just that. Nothing more serious. To wallow even more in self-pity and to cry some more over spilled milk would only be self-indulgence. I decided to keep myself away from my worries. And to keep my mind away from the idea that my birthday was coming. I was doing well until I got to work.

Marvin, one of my favorite straight guys at work greeted me with: "Rye... 12 hours and a half left!" and a wink. Then he started humming the "Happy Birthday" tune. Trying to conceal my dread, I smiled at him and said "Thanks". Then I avoided him all day.

When I got home that night, I headed straight to my room and locked the door. My flatmates were sensitive enough to not mention anything about it.

Hours before midnight, I saw the invite I had been working on even before my birthday blues started to attack. For mre than two hours, I was just staring at it, deciding whether I deserve to have a party. It was scheduled on the 25th. Our payday. By then, my financial troubles would be over. But really, did I deserve to celebrate?

Yes. I did.


As soon as I started creating my Facebook event guest list, Stevie Wonder started singing "Happy Birthday To Ya" from Dan's computer. Mamu came into my room, gave me a hug, and yelled "Happy Birthday!" Dan followed. My phone rang and I got a call from Ricky, my dearly beloved ex. Then a plethora of text messages, phone calls and online im's came pouring in. Whether I liked it or not, it was my birthday. There was no stopping it.

...will be continued. promise.

It's My Birthday And I'll Cry If I Want To (The Prelude)

I will write the birthday week recap after Tuesday. For now...

S2 Ep11, "Happy Birthday, Rye!" --- Out Now!

This episode is all about Rye as he celebrates his 27th birthday. Part 1 pa lang itoh, take note, mga kasuy!

Don’t forget to email us your comments, shout-outs, suggestions, etc. You can now leave your comments in our mypodcast.com page too! and also, please join our yahoo group.
Enjoy the show, mga kasuy!

The Birthday Entry

Fuck poverty.

Fuck birthday blues.

My 26th year has been one hell of a ride.

And tonight's been one hell of a party. I'm not kidding.

Public Invitation

I'm not giving out individual invites. So here's the rule:

Consider yourself invited if you see the following flyer:

For everyone who couldn't read the details at the bottom, it goes:

Tues., 25 Sept 07

Volume

Happy Hour 7-10pm, 2-4-1 drinks

LG/F 83-85 Hollywood Rd., Central

No Dress Code!

RSVP 98115254 rye; 91070724 dan; 96450086 chris

I Hope It's Just The Birthday Blues

On the train home from Central, quite tipsy, I clutched my bag --- one of my major purchases for this month --- like my whole life depended on it. I am, unil now, in a state of panic and despair. I am broke as shit. Not even broke --- I am way below poverty line. I have never been so poor in my birthday. Ever.

Earlier tonight, I felt so piteous I attempted to do the unthinkable. I went to a store in Central where I purchased a pair of shoes (that I hadn't really used except for a couple of "fittings") 2 weeks ago. I was gonna get HK$700.00 back had they accepted my return. But they did not. I left the store feeling ok. My life didn't really depend on that "return" after all. Had they accepted it and returned my money, it would've been well and good. Otherwise, no loss in m y part; at least I tried.

So I was in Central already. I thought, "I might as well make good use of my inter-island trip." It was New Arrivals night at Volume --- free vodka from 7-10. So I headed to my sanctuary. Halfway through, I stopped by 7-11 to pick up some cigarettes. As I was going to pay for them, I realized my wallet was empty of cash. So I took out my Octopus and flashed it on the machine, which said that I only had $13.00 left on my card. That wasn't even enough to pay for my fare back home. Instantly, I felt my eyes well up. And then, devoid of any conscious reasoning, I started to cry and feel sorry for myself.

I am 2 days from my birthday and I am B-R-O-K-E! I was sobbing on the way to Volume. It sort of reminded me of my 16th birthday.

-----

1996. I was in third year high school. The lowest point of my family --- if there's something lower than rock bottom, that's where we were. My dad was unemployed and paralyzed. He has just survived a major stroke that occured 2 years earlier while he was in Libya. My mom would go to Divisoria every night to buy buckets of fish that she was gonna sell in the wet market in the morning before she came home to do the chores. We could barely afford the exorbitant tuition fees for my and my brother's schooling. But my parents wouldn't yield. They wouldn't put us in public schools.

It was a Saturday, my birthday. I woke up at around 10am and my mom, dad and brother greeted me a "Happy Birthday" as soon as I got out of the room. I started preparing for the mall. I was gonna meet up with my friends there to see "The Craft". As I was heading for the gate, my mom called out to me as she was doing the laundry (manually --- we were trying to save up on power usage) and gave me 100pesos. And she said, "Pasensya na. Yan lang meron ako. (I'm sorry. That's all I have) Happy Birthday!" Grateful of the sacrifice I thought I knew she had to make, I kissed her then took off.

One hundred pesos. That was just enough for a movie pass and a chicken with rice meal at McDonald's. I couldn't even take a cab from my place to Robinson's Galleria. That would cost around sixty pesos. Then I wouldn't have enough money to eat after the movie.

The day went well. I had loving friends who understood the plight my family was in. They didn't even joke about me having to treat them out to snacks or to the movie. In fact, they paid for everything that day. I went home with my one hundred pesos still intact.

I got home with mixed emotions. I was happy to be with my friends on my birthday. But some part of me was feeling sorry about our poverty. But then I said to myself, "It couldn't be that bad." I was wrong. It was that bad.

I got home and found out my tired mom and sick dad have skipped lunch. They only had so much left for lunch for one person --- my brother's. I gave back the 100pesos and my mom bought 2 cans of sardines for dinner. The rest of the money, she saved up for Sunday lunch.

------

So I got to Volume and found friends there --- Kelly, who just came back from a week-long holiday at the Shangri-La Mactan, Tony, who just came back from Mumbai, Steve, who's leaving for Germany on Friday, and Lawrence, who just came back to HK from Jakarta. They were all talking about travel, which could have made me sulk, considering I could (schedule-wise) easily go somewhere else to celebrate my birthday but my finances wouldn't allow. But it did not. Later on, Chris arrived. Chris and I (and Dan) do almost everything together. We were supposed to be on the same financial tickbox. But for some reason, he managed to come out with a little bit of cash in his pocket.

When the free vodka time elapsed, Chris offered a glass of Chardonnay. I refused. I knew he was running low on cash too. He insisted. He said, "It's ok. This is our last night-out until payday. On Tuesday [my birthday bash at Volume], we would've been paid already."

"No," I protested. "I'm going out on Friday night. That's when my real birthday is."

"You can't go out Friday night." He was adamant.

"Why not?"

"You don't have the money." He said matter-of-factly.

He was right. I am thankful I have friends like him who have the courage to be blunt to me when I need some wake-up call.

On the footbridge from the bus stop to my apartment, I called my ex. He listened to every word I said, and just allowed me to cry out my frustration. He wasn't alarmed. He said, "Rye, you're stronger than that. Had this happened another time, you'd just laugh it out. It's just the birthday blues coming over you.

Birthday blues. I hope it's just that.

...

On Closed Doors

Got this from Ricci Chan --- artiste extraordinaire, a good friend, and an idol.

"When God closes a door, make sure it's locked. You don't wanna go through that path again that He's deemed inaccessible."

photo credit: "Closed Door" by pseudo seriousness

How insightful is that!

..

Thank God For YM, Our Apartment Is Quiet As Ever.

This is the layout of our apartment.

The dining table is on the other side of my bedroom's west wall. Literally, if I need to put something on it, I don't even have to step out of my bedroom door to do that.


On late nights such as this, Dan takes out his laptop from his non-smoking room and does all his online duties in the dining area so that he could surf the net without needing to go out of his room every once in a while to have a fag.


That's how close Dan is to me right now as I am writing this entry. We need not shout in order to hear each other. All we need is Yahoo Messenger.


Here's an example of our home interaction, from last night:

dtsalvanajr: psssssssssst
dtsalvanajr: hindi ka pa gutom?
mail_for_ryan: di pa naman.
mail_for_ryan: kaw?
dtsalvanajr: feel mo na ba kumain in 5 mins?
mail_for_ryan: go!
dtsalvanajr: kanina pa luto yong kanin
dtsalvanajr: ok, i'll call u
mail_for_ryan: 5 mins izit!
dtsalvanajr: friend, pa-extend konti
mail_for_ryan: okidoki
mail_for_ryan: ready tayo anytime! :-)

And from tonight:

dtsalvanajr: rye, na-upload ko na ang episode 10
mail_for_ryan: yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
mail_for_ryan: at least there's something to smile about tonight.
dtsalvanajr: oh yes! thanks to our podcast. hala, ipagkalat mo na
mail_for_ryan: ok
mail_for_ryan: lika dito, mag [CENSORED] tayo! hehehe
dtsalvanajr: loka, ayoko
dtsalvanajr: muna
dtsalvanajr: hehehe
mail_for_ryan: haha! chika lang! di naman ako [CENSORED] noh!
dtsalvanajr: ang linaw ng voice natin
dtsalvanajr: medyo chaka lang yong pagka-record ng OBB natin
mail_for_ryan: dahil jan...
mail_for_ryan: ur laptop is the new podcast laptop
dtsalvanajr: yes yes yes!
dtsalvanajr: then after every recording, order online HAHAHA!
mail_for_ryan: true!
mail_for_ryan: gagawa na ko ng wishlist ko
mail_for_ryan: hehehe
dtsalvanajr: :-P

..

Let's Talk About Work Ethics And Professionalism

S2 Ep10 , "Work Ethics Ba Kamo? TSE!" of TD&RS is Out Now!

Tension-filled discussion on work ethics and professionalism. Hindi naman talaga kami galit... tensyonado lang!!!

Kakatuwa ang episode na ito, in fairness! We're so very sure marami sainyong makaka-relate out there! Kaya go ahead and listen!

Don't forget to email us your comments, shout-outs, suggestions, etc. thedanandryeshow@yahoo.com You can now leave your comments in ourmypodcast.com page too! and also, please join our yahoo group.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/thedanandryeshow

Enjoy the show, mga kasuy!

Shameless Plugging

I have once again been asked who my photographs me. There's only one person that I trust.

Jojo Mamangun

Born to a family of entrepreneurs and artists, Jojo Mamangun explored his creativity at an early age when he entered the Philippine High School for the Arts as a student specializing in folk dance. Upon completing secondary level, he moved to Davao City and became a protégé of Agnes Locsin. It was during this time that he developed his folk dance technique to classical ballet and modern dance.

In 1999, Jojo joined Ballet Philippines as an apprentice and was later on promoted to Company Member. In his 6-year stint with the company, his fascination for the human form and movement intensified, along with his new-found passion of capturing on film the grace and athleticism of dance. While performing with the company as a soloist, he was also its resident photographer. In 2003, some of his works were put on exhibit along with those of Noordin Jumalon, Victor Ursubia, and Dodie Campos at the Main Theater Lobby of the Cultural Center of the Philippines.

In 2005, Jojo flew to HK and became part of HK Disneyland’s Opening Team. The more flexible schedule that this new undertaking offered gave him a bigger venue to develop his photographer’s eye. In less than two years, he has established a reputation among his fellow performers and photography hobbyists as an artist’s photographer of choice. A few of his subjects have been: Jinky Llamanzares, Pheona Barranda, Alex Dagalea, Anna Fegi, Jing Fegi, Kris-Belle Paclibar, Rye Bautista, Ben Rosagazo, Bianca Cashman, Noel Rayos and Erin Gray. He has produced a collection of photos --- portraits, head shots and still life --- considerably huge for an emerging, self-taught newbie. His online publication of works has garnered numerous awards voted by fellow photographers: hobbyists and professionals.

In June of 2007, he was one of the 7 Filipino photographers whose works were featured in the Hong Kong photo exhibit billed as “Pagbabalik”, an endeavor put together by the Pinoy Photographers Club HK in commemoration of the Philippine Independece Day.

Being one of its pioneer members, Jojo has recently been tapped to be the Project Coordinator of PPC-HK.

An Exciting New Beginning

After 27 months (including staging) of doing the same dancer track in our show on the average of 10 shows per week, I finally opened as M5 (Male dancer #5) today.

======

The overture had begun to play when the head technician handed to me the standard which I was to carry as I entered the stage. I was a few bars of music away from my entrance. I started getting nervous. I started to blame myself for not being diligent enough to observe shows and ask for more rehearsals. I started looking back and counting how many run-throughs I've had to prepare for this moment. One. I only had one. I wasn't sure I was ready. "Moon, I am nervous!" I confided to the technician.

With his charming fatherly smile, he said, "Don't be nervous. Just don't look back. Forget everything you've done (as M8) before today. This is your new role. No more M8 from now on."

"What if they ask me to do M8 again in the coming days when the M8's are all sick?" I was trying to be funny.

"Then forget about M5 for that day."

I smiled.

"You'll be fine, Rye," he reassured me. "And the audience doesn't know the choreography. You can make mistakes," he added.

Except for a few minor glitches that only the dance captain noticed and some confusion as to where my quick changes were going to happen, I'd say I fairly delivered well. I performed like any mature, trained, professional dancer ought to. The mistakes I've made weren't dramatic enough to get the whole show to stop from running. Nor were they bothersome enough to distract my fellow performers, cause them injury or disrupt the normal on-stage and off-stage flow of the show. They were insignificant. Nothing too grievous to not be dealt with a little bit of humor and some chuckle.

Coming home tonight with a little bit of Shiraz in my system, I looked back at the day that was and started to reflect on its teachings for today.

What Moon said made a lot of sense in the bigger scale of things. He was the voice of the Higher Being that's telling me to not dwell in my past anymore. That the pain and wounds that I am still harboring from way back are paralyzing me to move forward and start anew.

Yes, it is difficult to un-learn habits --- both good and bad. But if I want to shine as a new me, I'll have to go through that difficult and painful process. I am young anyway. I have my whole life ahead of me. I am allowed to make mistakes, so long as I do not hurt other people or disrupt their lives. And with a little bit of humor and some chuckle, I'm sure I will get by.

=====

In a few days, I'll be celebrating my birthday. Until tonight, I hadn't planned anything special to celebrate it but to get hammered, like I did very year. But now, I couldn't be more excited for this new beginning.

After 27 years, I am getting rid of bad and unnecessary habits and baggages and will be finally opening myself as a happier, more vibrant spirit.

So help me God.

..

For You Who Take Me Too Seriously

I don't want somebody to love me

Just give me sex whenever I want it

'Cause all I ask for is instant pleasure

Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

You in the traffic for all eternity

How could that speed be where you want to be?

Said don't you really want instant pleasure

Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

Think that all these folks get laid?

Do it cause their pain is great?

What you thinkin' anyways?

If drinkin' coffee's your idea of really cool

You can't expect no crazy chick to notice you

Just sittin there dreamin' instant pleasure

Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

If you want someone a friend to be

Guess you'll have to win the lottery

But till then repeat after me

I don't want somebody to love me

Just give me sex whenever I want it

'Cause all I ask for is instant pleasure

Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

I don't want somebody to love me

I don't want somebody to love me...

Instant Pleasure

Rufus Wainwright

Written by Seth Swirsky from "Bid Daddy" soundtrack

*thanks Julie for sharing yet another Rufus masterpiece

S2 Ep9 "Hello. Goodbye." of TD&RS, Now Playing!

S2 Ep9 "Hello. Goodbye." of TD&RS, Now Playing!

Do you have any memorable "goodbye" and "hello"? Dan and Rye talk about theirs in this episode of their podcast.

Don't forget to email us your comments, shout-outs, suggestions, etc.

You can leave your comments in our mypodcast.com page too! and also, please join our yahoo group.

Enjoy the show, mga kasuy!

Home Makeover Gone Wrong

A scene from The Broken Hearts Club:*

Dennis comes home after having a haircut and finds out that his new roommate, Taylor, has rearranged his living room. Dennis is not very excited about it.

Dennis: Where is my living room?

Taylor: Distributed evenly around the house.

Dennis: This is not my living room. This is your living room. Now put my living room back.

=================================

You build your home for three months and nurture it for two years. Suddenly it goes through major renovation --- a renovation that seems inevitable --- and you see it for the first time after the overhaul. Then you feel that it's not the house that you've built --- not the home that you've envisioned it to be in the beginning and that you've grown to love through time. That some parts --- major and minute --- have been replaced, but they're just not the right size or the right kind. Or maybe they are, but the carpenters didn't fortify them the way they should have.

Won't you feel bad?

Then, just as you're trying to convince yourself that it's not that bad after all, here come the new carpenters who renovated your house and the old ones who were with you in the beginning, parading in front of your very eyes, congratulating one another and cheering themselves for "a job well done".

How will you conceal the tears brought about by feeling too insulted?

You can't.

You just run to the washroom and sob in silence. Briefly. Because you have a show to do.

*written from memory. please pardon any inaccuracies

Midweek Malady

I've been looking forward to this midweek day-off.

I'd planned to:

• do my laundry
• catch up on blogs that I didn't get to read
• go to Mong Kok for an emergency shopping
• write the script for Jing's wedding video
• write Belle's write-up for her performance for Agnes Locsin's anniversary concert
• write Jojo's write up for his next photo exhibit
• write the entry about yesterday's rehearsal (which Verna is eagerly waiting for)
• reply to comments on my previous posts
• get a pedicure
• make important business calls
• shave my head
• organize my closet
• podcast

I figured, I could achieve even more that this if I woke up at 10am.

Well, it's 4pm. And my only achievement so far is get up from my bed. That was 10 minutes ago. Oh, and write this entry, which is not even in my to-do list.

I'm infected with a midweek malady that in tagalog, we call katam. Katamaran. Indolence.

About A Boy And A Boy

Boy 1: It's only been two weeks since I last saw you. What have you been doing? How did u get that much sexier in such a short time?



Boy 2: Oh thanks! Well, I've been working out a lot more often... And I've been following the diet program you gave me.



Pregnant pause. They continued dancing in uncomfortable silence, each glancing occassionally at the other's eyes.



Few minutes elapsed. Maybe three.



Boy 1: Uhmm... How would you like to go home with me ton...



Boy 2: Wait a minute! Didn't you just dump me two weeks ago?



Boy 1: Dump?! No way! I never dump people. That's rude! I just... You know, I told you this already. I just don't want a relationship.



Boy 2: What do you need me for then?



Boy 1: I want us to still be friends.



Boy 2: Consolation prize?



Boy 1: No! (a beat) And fuck buddies maybe.



Boy 2: Ohh, (insert Boy 1's real name here)! You're still that spoiled! You can't have everything your way.



Boy 2 walks away.



Boy 1 dials Boy 3's number.

**based on a true story

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

S2 Ep8 Twinkle Twinkle Little Star of TD&RS, Now Playing!

Alam ko, alam mo, alam nating lahat - twinkle twinkle little star! The stars of the show talk about the stars.

Don’t forget to email us your comments, shout-outs, suggestions, etc. . You can leave your comments in our mypodcast.com page too! and also, please join our yahoo group. Enjoy the show, mga kasuy!

The Stalker In The Rye

Across the room from you, I stood motionless; Oblivious of the many sweaty men --- their skins exposed --- dancing between us. As if in a trance --- my ears unable to follow the beat of the pulsating music, and my eyes looking past the heads and shoulders swaying in front of me --- I watched your every move. Every blink. Every breath.

Outside, the world was beginning to come alive. Daybreak has started and the city was readying itself for the hustle and bustle that was to start any moment soon. But inside, where we were, the long night has just begun. It was dark, and all that illuminated our space were hypnotic strands of lights of varied colors --- just enought for half-closed eyes to see silhouettes of people and things.

In that little world that was our transient habitat, time has ceased to subsist and will continue to be nonexistent until the music fades and the lights grow brighter. For some, their stay would seem days and days of nonstop gaiety while for some, but a few minutes of temporary joy.

Activity abounded me. Us. But all my senses could perceive was you. Your existence. Your being. At certain moments, you fascinated me. Other times, you excited me. Intrigued me sometimes, even. And made me wonder why we never were. Or why we could never be. Why my wit and charm failed to enamor you.

Maybe not just yet. Maybe in another time and place. Or in another lifetime.

Until then, keep dancing. And keep letting me watch you. This is enough to make me happy.

..

Pain, Pain, Go Away!

When you keep coming back to your doctor, complaining about the same thing over and over; and you're getting tired of prescriptions that don't seem to work anymore, then it's probably time to seek for an alternative.


To be fair to Dr. L, he gives me adequate attention and he knows my entire medical history by heart. But given the nature of work that I do (ok, mom... and my alcohol intake. sheesh!), my body doesn't respond to pain relievers and anti-inflammatories anymore. Consequently, my trips to his clinic has already become futile.

So today, after getting sent home from work on the account of my inability to perform because my old knee injury acted up again, I decided to give Traditional Chinese Medicine a try.

Acupuncture.

I enterd Dr. Frankie's clinic and instantly, he knew what was wrong with me. He asked me to lie on his treatment bed and pinched that part of my knee where all the pain was coming from. "This is it, right?" he asked proudly, as if he were some oracle whose prediction took place right before his very eyes.

"Yes," I answered in excruciating pain.

"Don't worry, this will be very easy to remedy." He was sure. He was very, very sure. He then left me and went into the adjacent room. He came back in less than two minutes with his gadgets. He started feeling my knees again, mapping out where he would stick the needles.

I started getting nervous. I was wondering how it would feel. With as much pride and dignity as I could muster, I asked him, "Doc, can you give me a sed--- Ouch! Shit!" He stuck the first needle before I could even say "sedative".

"First time, huh? Well, it will sting a little but it's tolerable." His warning, a little too late.

The five needles that followed didn't hurt as the first. In fact, maybe two of them, I didn't feel at all. Then he instructed me to stay put and not move. He turned on the heating devide that he placed just a few inches above my knee. "Call me if it gets too hot,"he said. Then he left.

I wanted to move the pillow under my head a few inches to the left so I tried to get up a little. Ok, that's a lie. I tried to sit up so I could take a picture of my knee. I have only lifted my head half a foot when I felt a tingle in my spine and my whole leg cramp up. Uh-oh! Not good. Lesson: Listen when your doctor says "stay put" and "don't move". Got the message! Won't happen again, I promise.

Fifteen minutes after he turned the heat on, he came back and removed the needles. But before he did so, I asked him to take my photo.

And like magic, the pain disappeared. Just like that.

How To Lose Your Money In 4 Hours (Or Less)

SHOPPING.

It was 6:13pm on my cellphone clock when Brad, a good friend of mine who is in HK for business, called. I was in Central, doing my errands.

"Dinner at 8:30?" he asked. Well, more of demanded confirmation.

How the hell could I have forgotten? Damn! "I'm just doing my errands, I'll be done by then. So yes, dinner at 8:30. But nothing fancy, ok? I'm in a tank top and cargos. And trainers! But if you insist on a fancy dinner, I'll just go and get some really nice shirt."

"Cool. Find yourself a nice shirt then meet me at Bo Innovation. 8:30. See you, buddy!"

Wait, Brad! I was kidding when I said that I will go and get some really nice shirt! "Ok. See you. Bye!"

A little short of an hour later, I had everything I went to Central for. Time to decide where to get a nice but inexpensive shirt for dinner. I walked down Li Yuen Street, and as soon as I reached Queen's Road Central, a red and black logo greeted me:

See, I'm not really a fan of H&M. I think the idea of H&M is cool. They have really, really stylish stuff from street wear to chic casual. They have bags, belts, shoes, accessories and underwear. Their image model, who happens to be one of their designers as well, is Madonna. And they're very, very affordable!

But that's where the problem begins. They're so affordable and stylish, they're just too available for everyone. Nothing wrong with that, I agree. I just don't like it when I see somebody on the street wearing the same outfit that I am wearing. I do have H&M stuff, I just don't wear them where I'm very likely to see another being that would look like my fashion clone. And that's basically EVERYWHERE in HK.

At that moment, though, I thought.. what the heck! I just needed something I would look presentable in at 8:30.

So I walked in the store and headed straight to the basement --- the men's section. I saw a really nice white pin-striped dress shirt with a nicely standing collar and tuxedo sleeves. Very clean-looking. I could wear it with light denim jeans (which I intended to get there too), and my trainers. Presentably casual. Cool.

As I was heading to where the jeans were stacked, I saw the shirt that I was holding on the mannequin. No. Not the "shirt du jour'. So i searched and found another shirt. Very simple. Very basic. It could be anything other than H&M. Black, cotton, slim fit shirt. I tried it on. Perfect. So then, what to look for next? Simple dress pants with a nice silhouette. Found them instantly. Grayish-brown, slim cut, flat-front, 98% cotton, 2% spandex, with sublte plaid prints. Elegant-looking, flattering and again, nothing extraordinary. It could be anything.

I was already in the queue to the cashier when I realized I needed shoes to go with them. Size 44. Black. Leather boots. All set!

By 7:40, I was in the public toilet off Hollywood Road, just a few steps away from Volume, getting changed.

I walked down Hollywood Road through Wyndham Street and found no one dressed the same way I was. Whew! Well, somebody must've seen me and said, "I have those too!" I don't care. I finished my emergency shopping without the slightest bit of stress I thought would have.

It was about 8:20. I was climbing the tall, steep concrete staircase to Lower Albert Road when I realized I didn't get a belt. And my shirt was freakin tucked!

god give me a belt!

to be continued...

Just Because You're Active...

..doesn't mean you're healthy.

This goes out to all my friends (and readers) who are dancers, athletes, and gym-buffs. Pay attention.

We are so blessed. We stay fit, we have very very low body fat content in our bodies, we sweat out the toxins that we unconsciously take in, and we have all the right bulges in all the right places. And we can eat anything we so desire at any given time or day. Why not? We deserve that. Consider all that fatty foie gras and grease-smothered barbeque a reward for all our excessive physical activity. Eat whatever you want. You'll burn it all anyway on your next show. Or dance class. Or game. Or gym session. That's the way to stay healthy. Right?

Wrong.

Let us not forget that exercising is not the end all and be all of staying healthy. It is just one of the many ways to boost one's immunse system, keeping his body toned, and possibly guaranteeing him a good lay whenever he wants one.

Let us not forget that the genes that have been embedded in our system even before our parents thought we have been conceived, serve as a curse --- a health curse --- that we need to constantly battle against. And being negligent about our diets won't help --- no matter how many pounds of weights, or how many miles, or how many plies and grand jetes, or how many goals we are able to conquer in a day.

Believe me. That's what happened to Antonio Puerta, a Spanish international football midfielder who played for Sevilla FC in La Liga.



He collapsed in one of their biggest games on August 25 and was diagnosed to be affected with arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy (What that is, don't ask me. Just click on the medical jargon to follow the link). He died three days later, after suffering a series of cardiac arrests that followed after the said league game against Getafe CF.

He was 22. An athlete.

..

Blackbird, Bolognaise and Iowa

S2 Ep7 of The Dan & Rye Show, "Tsismisan at Reviewhan sa Kusina" is Now playing!

Your kasuynesses talk about the newly-approved same sex marriage in Iowa, Blackbird, and the filipino-style spaghetti bolognaise that Dan is making while podcasting.

Don’t forget to email us your comments, shout-outs, suggestions, etc. thedanandryeshow@yahoo.com. You can now leave your comments in our mypodcast.com page too! and also, please join our yahoo group. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/thedanandryeshow.

Enjoy the show, mga kasuy!

What This Boy (Really) Wants

It was 4pm --- barely four hours since we slept after an all-night-all-morning devouring of beer, chardonnay, spirits and subjects to talk about. We were on his bed. He stroked my face as my head lay on his chest and asked, "So why are you single? Too picky?"

"Nobody likes me", I answered quickly. After so many times of being asked that same thing over and over again, I've learned that "nobody likes me" was the easiest answer. It implied that being single was not a choice that I have consciously made and it blocked off the subsequent why's that usually follow questions of such nature. If there ever is a why, then I just say, "Don't ask me. Ask them."

But as if he didn't hear me reply, he continued his multiple choice, "Or afraid of commitment?"

That's when I had an epiphany. All it took was that question for the realization, that I've been working on for weeks now, to surface.

I am not afraid of commitment. I don't think there is any reason why I should be. After 8 years of constantly being attached, I know deep in my heart that I am a better lover now than I was when I was with C. I am better-equipped with tools and ammunitions to know well enough the kind of man I would like to have as a partner; and to make my next relationship work to its maximum potential.

I am not afraid of commitment. What I am afraid of is giving up the freedom that I am enjoying now for a commitment that will, in the future, turn out to be unworthy of my time and energies.

This is the first time that I am experiencing what it's really like to be single, since I first got into a romantic relationship in 1999. I was 19 then, and was just starting to blossom. Over the past 8 years, I've had 3 major relationships --- the shortest lasted for 1 year, and the longest for 3 years. In the gaps, I dated tirelessly. I am now just starting to enjoy the freedom that my friends enjoyed in our younger years --- when they'd all party, and flirt and sleep around, while I boxed myself in parameters I and my exes set for me, which I followed religiously. Without questions.

I'm the type of person that doesn't see the need to explain my choices to other people: what I do, when and where I do it, the people that I see and the extent of my intimacy with them. So I seldom did, even with my then-partners. But it's only now that I am able to have the contentment brought about by being totally devoid of guilt that someone --- someone I am involved with and/or committed to --- may be hurting because of my "selfish" choices.

This is not to say though that I am asking Love to look away from me. I am not. I'm just saying it would take someone very special for me to bid my happy singlehood farewell. Of course I miss all the fun and joy and challenge of being in a relationship. But I will not jump into one until I am hideously sure I want it so bad. What I need now, more than commitmet, is a deep connection with someone. And there's more than one person that fulfills that need of mine to feel that deep connection. Choosing to commit to one of them MIGHT just complicate things and leave me feeling sorry that I didn't hold on to my principles hard enough. Maybe the next man is one of them. Or maybe he's just around the corner, still waiting to be hit by Cupid. Or maybe he hasn't arrived. Who knows?

Someday my prince will come. And one Sunday morning after we've decided to commit, I will wake up to find that he's not in bed with me. I will hear the shower running and see that he has left the door half-open again. I will join him in. There, under the running water, he will kiss my nape and say "I am so lucky to have you." And in a bashful manner but with an assured tone, I will say to him, "I am lucky to have waited. There's nothing more I could ask for right now." Until that man comes along and presents himself as The One, I will be content with the wonderful associations I have with the men who give me joy at the momen. The best associations that the dating and relationship industry could ever offer --- profound, moving, non-imposing, noncommittal, expectation- and drama-free!

That's what this boy really wants.

..