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.