Most Amusing People Of The Night

2nd Runners-up

the chinese couple &

the mid-20's caucasian guy in line for the taxi

It must have been 1am. I was smoking, in line for the red taxi (there was a severe scarcity of blue taxi tonight), sandwiched between a couple and a white guy.

As a person who grew up in a tropical country where one only sees in Hollywood movies (lest he was born in a well-off family who can afford travels to snow-laden lands) how [fog? smoke? moist? what's that called? we don't have its direct translation in filipino] comes out of one's mouth when he talks or exhales, I got quite fascinated at how that happened to me. I'd blow out some smoke, then I'd keep blowing and blowing and I never run out of that white matter that comes out of my mouth. I felt stupid. I looked around to see I was being watched. I wasn't.

The couple in front of me, neither of them smoking, was busy finding childish joy in blowing out white matter as well. Behind me, the white guy was attempting to make smoke rings out of the white matter.

Nothing profound. It just amused me that even people who probably have lived with winter at least three months of their lives every year find as much fun as I do freezing the molecular bits of their saliva on a cold winter night.

1st runner-up

the girl in the bookshop

I got quite excited seeing that Relay has opened its branch at the Central MTR Station. The huge 50% off on selected items sign lured me into checking out the stall despite the fact that my friends, Law & Steve, were already at Volume waiting for me.

I quickly checked out the fiction section and searched for Murakami. Haruki Murakami. They had four of his works and they were not on sale. They were pretty pricey, in fact. It was a bit disconcerting to realize that I couldn't squeeze in any of his works in my budget for the month. Ok, maybe I could but then I'd have to give up drinks for tonight. That'd have been more disconcerting.

So anyway, I called two of my friends: Kiks and that really nice German guy, to find out whether I could borrow their Murakami books. They answered in the affirmative so I decided not to buy Murakami anymore.

I was starting to look for something else I could walk away with when I noticed this girl--- 29 years old at least, chinese, quite stylish, but with God-forsaken hair --- on the other side of the shelf checking me out. I didn't mind. She probably thought I was a celebrity (HK peeps think I look like Louis Koo, who actually looks more like my dad; and I wouldn't be surprised if she thought I did, given the really nice eyes I have presently.) Eventually, I made up my mind to re-read a high school reading that I don't remember anymore.

I moved on to the magazines section a few minutes later and lo and behold! The chinese girl was beside me, obviously trying to get my attention. I looked at her demeaningly (my sexy eyes can get intimidating too, y'know!) but she didn't budge. I took a copy of





and started heading for the cashier. As I passed by the last shelf before the cash register, I stopped by to browse the magazines on display. She stood right beside me again and said, "Hi." I pretended not to hear her. I grabbed a copy of





She left.





A modern classic, a fitness mag and a gay lifestyle magazine from the UK. She finally got the message:

Not interested.

Gay.

Most Amusing People Of The Night
Law & Steve



"My friends get a haircut for this"
-Howie (Matt McGrath), "The Broken Hearts Club".



He was talking about how frustrating it was for him to have to see a shrink to help him sort out his insecurities and other personal, social, romantic and what-have-you dramas, while his friends could just talk about them casually to their hairstylist who just always preteneded to listen but never really cared at all.



I'm lucky I have a lot of sensible non-charging, loving people around me. I don't need a shrink, or a hairstylist for that matter. I have people around me who truly care about my well-being; and who care just as much to ask my opinions (oftentimes harsh) on their own life dramas. People with whom I have established well enough a form of emotional (sometimes even material) symbiosis. People I laugh at, laugh for, and laugh with. People whose names never disappear from my Recently Dialled Numbers.



These are my selected friends. Selected. Not everyone, I call a friend. Some people are merely colleagues. Some are merely acquaintances. Some are merely old flames. But these are my friends. And even amongst them, there are certain roles that I have unspokenly assigned each one. There's someone I would turn to when I need a harsh wake-up call; someone I'd turn to when I need to be assured that everything will be alright; someone I would turn to when I need to be told that I am right and everybody else is wrong; someone I would turn to when I just need someone to listen and not make a comment; someone I would turn to when I just need to get drunk and forget about everything; someone I would turn to when I just want to gossip; someone I would turn to when I need tolerance for my unreasonable bitchiness; someone I would turn to when I just wanna listen;



and there are these two people I would turn to when I wanna be drunk for free on a Wednesday night; talk about ourselves, our past mistakes, and how we've learned a lot from them; talk about the men who want to sleep with us and the men we want to sleep with; discuss issues --- both trivial and global --- in the same wavelength but differing points of view; talk about other people's lives and how we can enrich ours by observing them; brag about our own jobs and at the same time, envy each other's jobs; plan the next get-together; reminisce our childhood; laugh at one's current lack of love- and sex-life, predict the downfall of the other's, and squirm at still another's disgustingly overrated sex life; check out gorgeous men and diss those that don't fall in our category of "crushables"; patronize ourselves one minute and then ridicule each other the next; and reveal who wanted to sleep with whom in the not-so-distant future and why, why it never happened, and be thankful that it never did.



These two people are Law & Steve. Together, we are called by the men of Volume, "The Triad". But in reality, minus the label, we are just a troika of gay guys who wanna have fun and, in the process, know ourselves better.


Like tonight.
________________________

P.s. Law & Steve: It's 4:20. Homework done. Tulog na ko. Night!

It's Stuff Like These That Make Me Wish I Had A Vagina

photo by Chris Polk/WireImage.com

The very royal-looking Marcia Cross in a teal gown

that I would wear if I hosted a party in Shangri-La Mactan, Cebu,

where the gown's creator, Monique Lhuillier, hails from.

That is, if I hosted a party, given I was a lady.

photo credit: Dimitrios Kambouris/WireImage.com

I honestly think that my Asian caramel skin would look better

in this reflective Nina Ricci gown than did

Ellen Pompeo's caucasian skin. Imagine if I were a chick.

photo credit: James Vespa/WireImage.com

The stunning Vanessa Williams in her equally-stunning

golden Escada gown that,

I believe would look even more stunning on me. If I were a woman.

photo credit: Kevin Mazur/WireImage.com

Angelina Jolie, rumored to be pregnant, in a flowing gown in earth colors. That'd be me, in that gown, holding Brad's hand, carrying his baby.

If I just had a freakin' vagina !

__________________

Twinkling Eyes And Visibly Whiter Skin

I've been receiving so many compliments on my new eyes since Saturday night. It's really overwhelming. It's amazing what 70yuan, 45 minutes and 10mm can do.

Saturday morning, I decided to join my friends who were going to Shenzhen that day. But all I was really after were the shopping and the spa. At 10pm, I thought, we'd be done with those and I could take the train back to HK and be at work fresh and bright the following day.

But then, like always, I let go of the will power I held on to all day long and gave in to the lure of a big, gay party and said goodbye to the last HK-bound train that night --- a decision I was sure I would regret the following day.

But the universe was nice to me. Free drinks and somethings, I received all night. And men --- gorgeous, hard-bodied Chinese men --- coming up to me saying I have very sexy eyes. Hah! If they only knew.

Sunday, I was reeking of alcohol and have had barely two hours of shallow sleep. I was practically wasted. But my eyes showed otherwise. And my colleagues loved them! As if that night itself wasn't enough to soften the blow of a difficult working Sunday I prepared myself to face, I received the same praise from my colleagues so many times from the time I got to the theatre until I left at the end of my shift to meet up with Dan to see a play. And Dan, my best friend-slash-flatmate who probably knows my face more than anybody does (besides Rems), greeted me with "Bakla, anong meron sa mata mo (Fag, what's with your eyes)?"

Today wasn't any different. I am now sitting in my room after a long day just feeling so pretty!

So what really is this secret that made my eyes "very sexy", according to the gay boys of Shenzhen that costs 70yuan, took 45 minutes to apply and measures 10mm?

You will find out when I post the vlog on our Shenzhen trip. In the meantime, here is the new Pond's series that I stole from the goddess that made me squirm with kilig. Call it babaw, I don't care. Kinilig ako e, bakit ba?



Rems, padalan mo ko ng Pond's flawless white! Dali! Para magka-manugang ka na ulit! Dalawang dosena. Hah?
_________________

For dancers, dance aficionados and the dance illiterate.

Who says that classical ballet is a woman's art? Ballerinas can be deglamourized too and male danseurs can also take limelight. Here's a classical piece that I think anyone would enjoy. Be sure to watch out for 2:13 (the batterie series); the lift at 4:03; the ballerina's re-entry at 4:45 and the fouette section at 6:09. Note how Mikhail ends his fouettes ala-second.

Elena Tentschikowa & Mikhail Kaniskin the technique. the agility. the athleticism. the humor. the performance.

Tonight, I Give The Greatest Performance

...of my sex life.

I've been sick in bed for two days; so today, I decided to follow the counsel of sex therapists who say sex ameliorates most illnesses such as common cold, recurring headache, fever, etc. --- basically, the symptoms of a flu, which I have.

Late this afternoon, this guy we'll call "x", sent me an sms asking how I was. I thought it was funny to receive something like that from him. We met only once. At Volume. And we never really got in touch. (He has a partner and he looks quite loyal. That was enough for me to stay at bay, voluntarily.) I sms'ed back saying that except for this really annoying flu that I have, everything's fine. I returned the question and he said that he was ok and that he was having some naughty thoughts. I knew right away it was gonna be him. Later on, I invited him over and he gladly said yes. Trying to be responsible, I reminded him that I had a flu and he said he didn't mind.

As if guided by some invisible force, x came to my house at 8 tonight with a bottle of chardonnay. Mamu was asleep and Dan was away. Perfect! After a glass, he reminded me he only had an hour and a half to spend because his significant other would be waiting for him. We wanted to waste no time so I instructed him to go to my bedroom and he obliged. I followed shortly.

What followed was an intense makeout session. As if we were 13 and it was the first time for us both to experience what we both had been wanting to do. His hands crawled all over my fully clothed body before trying to unfasten the buttons of my jeans. His tongue rolled all over my neck and...

Oh god! I promised him I won't blog about this. This is wrong. I can't break his trust. Gotta stop. Gotta stop. Right here.

Good night!

__________

One Less Hot Papa

Heath Ledger

27

Hollywood actor

Died January 22, 2008

Follow the story of his alledged overdose at Mary-Kate Olsen's New York apartment here.

3am photo shoot (part 2 - D&R)

This is Rye.

This is Dan.

And this is.. The Dan & Rye Show!

---------------

*complete set on my Multiply.

____________________________

3am photo shoot (part 1 - solo)

When a group of young, energetic, narcissistic, gay attention-whores get drunk and start to make a complete fool of themselves at 3 am on a Friday night in an apartment that has white walls over, with an LCD projector and a digicam --- what happens?

This is what happens. (Complete set on my Multiply)

___________________________

More to follow: my favorite shots of Miro, Josh, Law & Dan; TD&RS shots; Adobe Photoshop-ed versions.

Closure

Chris, one of my best friends here in HK, wrote as a comment to "Just Another Date":

ayan ka na naman sa mga "to be continued" mo te eh..... sabi nga ni nelson "asan na ung mga kaduktong?" :) parang sa dinadami nung gnawa mong ganito, lahat ata wala pang ending.... tama mali? :) hehehe

And he said it right. None of my series ever ended. So in the interest of closure, I will be ending them all one by one in the coming days.

So for those who have forgotten some of them, and for those who might want to catch up, here are the hanging series this blog has produced:

• About A Boy At The Gym - an unexpected encounter at the gym
• How To Lose Your Money In 4 Hours (Or Less) - going out on a date unprepared
• The Birthday Saga - my week-long 27th birthday celebration
• Bonne Vacance - Cebu-Boracay-Manila with friends, bloggers, an ex and Rems
• The 12 Days Of Christmas Highlights - the 2007 yuletide
• Just Another Date - how my "first sex for 2008" turned out to be.

The titles enumerated above are linked to the most recent post in their respective series. Clicking on "continued", which could be found on the top of each page will bring you its precedent.

___________________

Season 2 Finale

It has been such a great pleasure podcasting for all of you. You have been a wonderful audience; and this episode, we offer you from the bottom of our kasuy hearts. We love you all! No kidding!

http://thedanandryeshow.mypodcast.com

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 yahoogroup. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/thedanandryeshow. Enjoy the show, mga kasuy!

For The Boy I Kissed Last Night

I hope somehow you find your way to this blog someday.

Sorry, I forgot to tell you I had a cold and dry cough.

It was fun though. Thanks. And sorry I fell asleep. Too much scotch, I guess.

________________

"Fuck You"-ing The Sophisticated Way

"Well I say fuck you right back with every fiber of my fading English being, every last ounce of my tobaccoed English breath. Fuck you, Ramon! Fuck all of you.

I think I've said my piece."

-John Jeckyll

Love. Valour. Compassion.

__________________________

An Overdue Goodbye

an sms exchange, late last night.

Leo: I'm single again and hurting. :-(

Rye: Be strong. (Sorry, I honestly don't know what to say)

Leo: That I figured since you only talk to me when I say hello first. Never mind. Thanks anyway.

Rye: (no response. I was watching Sean Cody, duh!)

Leo: With that I'm officially over you Rye. I've been there for you and extended myself to you despite how you will ignore me if I don't start a conversation. I so thought we were past all of that. But if all you can say to me after all we've been through is be strong, I won't bother you ever again! For once I needed you and you showed me just how much you care.... Never again, Rye. Never again!

______________
And so this looks like goodbye. Finally.

"And so you know the way it feels to cry
The way that I cried when you broke my world in two.
Baby, I learned the way to break a heart.
I learned from the best.
I learned from you."

-Whitney Houston, "I Learned From The Best"

Just Another Date 4

...continued

“Silly!” For a while I thought he said cutie again. “Sorry I didn’t have time to change anymore. I just got in too. I was still in the office when you called," he said with a cute little pout. Then he added, "Come on in.”

His apartment wasn't so big as the ones I've seen before in the same area. But it wasn't small either for a single man. It had three rooms --- his bedroom, the changing-slash-storage room, and the office. He had very few pieces of furniture, most of them wood and chunky. In the living area there were no couches, only a big daybed in the middle, which stood out not for its solitude but for its metallic composition. Under it, was a furry area rug that was spotlessly white and comfortably soft (where I would be lying naked with my arms and legs around him in a few minutes. Oh god! I hope I don't get this stained. He might never invite me again.) . It faced a huge Samsung plasma TV that hung on the wall, which was sandwiched by two 2 ft. x 5 ft. paintings, obviously of the same series by the same artist. To the right of the TV was an old Chinese village at noon, to the left was the same village at night. On top of the TV was a single-layered wooden shelf where a tall, slender and empty vase stood and where about a dozen books on art rested.

I was standing in front of the TV, examining his books when he came out of the kitchen without his jacket on, and his sleeves rolled up. A dark grey apron, almost in the same shade as his dress pants, was wrapped around his waist. He had in his hands two wineglasses and some place mats.

"Need a hand?", I courteously offered.

"No, thanks. Just make yourself comfortable. We'll need your hands more later." He placed the mats on the table then gave me a devillish grin and a sly wink.

About 10 minutes later, we were already devouring on his grilled salmon and steamed veggies, and drinking white wine. We have already talked about a few unmalicious subjects too, without any sexual innuendos. He asked how long I had been here and I told him the story of my diaspora, which he listened to intently.

"How 'bout you? How long have you been here?" I threw him back the question.

"9 years. 10 in August."

"Wow! How do you intend to celebrate your 10th anniversary?"

"I don't know. I wanna get a tattoo in Chinese calligraphy."

"Do you have any?"

"Yes. You've never seen it?" He acted puzzled. After seeing me shook my head, he rolled up the right sleeve of his shirt until it reached its limit a few inches just above his elbow. The tip of the tattoo on the inner part of his bicep peeked and he repeated the question. "Are you sure you've never seen it?"

"Never. What is it?"

Without saying a word, he unrolled his sleeve, unbuttoned his shirt and took out his right arm from the sleeve. How he did it, and at what pace he did, I don't remember. Everything is now a blur to me, but for his nipple that sat tall & proud on his firm, slightly hairy chest. He turned out his arm, thus half-flexing his bicep to show the tattoo. It was an inscription in arabic calligraphy.

"Nice. Very nice.", I said, not pertaining to the tattoo, but to the sexy armpit that he had exposed. "Can I touch it?" I asked shyly, almost in a whisper.

His head was titlted down and he looked at me from under his brows. In the same intensity that I delivered my question, he said, "Suit yourself."

I ran my fingers on his tattoo and examined it like an intricately-carved antique, glancing sporadically at the semi-blonde strands of hair on his chest and those that peeped out from his armpit.

"Why are your fingers cold?" he asked.

"I have iron deficiency," I said, trying to be funny. Trying to conceal my tension.

"You're nervous, child!" he teased me.

"A little bit."

"Don't be. I'm gonna ask to touch your tattoos as well anyway."

"How did you know I had them?"

"Propaganda. Long time ago. I saw you dancing topless and without a belt on the pole."

"Oh!" I blushed a bit. Then continued, "I have two new ones."

"Where?"

I lifted my shirt and showed him the chinese calligraphy on my right oblique.

"Three characters. What does it say?" he asked while slowly running the back of his middle and forefinger through it.

"I don't remember."

"Well, make something up."

With the most courage I could muster and the least nervousness I could show, I looked in his eyes and said, "I want you."

...will be conitnued. promise.

__________________________

Just Another Date 3

...continued

His message read: "I made dinner. What time are you coming?"

My hands started to shake. I checked the message details and saw that it's been almost 20 minutes since the message was sent. There was no time to waste. I made a quick deliberation and called him.

“Hey cutie!” He said the juvenile word again when he picked up.

"Hey! Did you just send me a message?" I asked directly.

"I didn't just send it. I sent it a couple of minutes ago. I thought you were ignoring me.” He said the last sentence in a very sexy, charming voice.

“I’m sorry. This is too short a notice. I am not a 30-minute delivery service. You should've called last night.” That’s how I had planned to answer him before I pressed the call button. I intended to play hard-to-get. I didn’t.

My bedroom widow was slightly open to let the smoke from my cigarettes escape my chamber. The winter air filled my room and defeated the warmth the heater beside my bed emitted. As soon as I heard his answer to my query, the cold that possessed my room disappeared magically and I felt my forehead break a cold sweat. My mouth refused to open and say anything. My head was suddenly occupied by Joey G and the rest of Side A where they played, in a deafening, hypnotizing volume, the words:

“You were just a dream that I once knew… I never thought I would be right for you…”

“Are you coming?”, he asked me again.

Instead of delivering the speech I had prepared, I answered in the affirmative. “Yes. I’m just about to leave work. I’ll probably be in your side of town in 40 minutes. I just called to ask for your address.”

“Ok. I’ll sms it to you.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“See you in a bit, cutie!” He hung up and I wasn’t able to say “see you in a bit.” That word! That word made me speechless again.

Forty minutes or so. That’s all I had in my hands. I needed to be in HK Island in 40 minutes or else, he might change his mind. I had to do everything in a flash. Smell check. Passed. Thank God for the showers at work. Facial hair check. Passed. It’s been about 9 hours since I shaved. It’s ok. A little bit of facial hair is sexy. What to wear, what to wear? Goddamit! White RL collared shirt. Clean and casually sexy. Oh! I’m glad I did my day 1 workout today. My chest and biceps look as though they’re fighting against Ralph. They look as though they’re being held hostage and they’re trying to break free! Toothbrush, toothbrush! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Why did it have to run out of battery today? There are batteries in my closet. Go get! Now! There’s none. But there’s a disposable toothbrush I took home from Disneyland hotel last year. Savior! Alright now, bag. Which bag? Beige Esprit tote or white CK duffel? The tote looks a bit too big. He might think I’m considering to move in. Duffel bag it is. Cellphone, wallet, cigarettes, house key --- in the bag, everything. Lip balm. Which lip balm to bring? Burt’s Bees, Carmex, Body Shop, Viviendo Virgin Coconut Oil? Meenee meenee miney moe. Just bring all of them, moron! Got everything. Now, go!

Oh! And moisturizer. In case, just in case I have to go straight to work tomorrow from there.

Call the taxi company to the MTR Station.

MTR --- The sign read: Next train departs in 2 minutes. Ruuuuuuuuun!
_____________________

I got to his place in less than 40 minutes.

With a shaky hand, I pressed on his buzzer after standing by his doorstep for 10 counts, trying to catch my breath. He opened the dark wood door and he stood before me like an apparition. He was in a light grey double-breasted suit with a muted pink Paul Smith patterned shirt under it. The first two buttons of his shirt were open and the tuck was a bit loose. The next thing I noticed was his smile. He looked different; very different from the way I would see him at Volume on weekends. A lot less causal. A lot less relaxed. A lot more gorgeous. A hell lot sexier.

“You didn’t tell me this dinner was gonna be a formal event.” I teased him.

“Silly!” For a while I thought he said cutie again. “Sorry I didn’t have time to change anymore. I just got in too. I was still in the office when you called," he said with a cute little pout. Then he added, "Come on in.”

will be continued. promise.

_______________________

Just Another Date 2

..continued

"Hold on. Let me check if my flat is presentable."

As soon as I read his last message, I banged on Dan's door and emphatically told him we had to have dinner pronto. Perplexed and at the same time a bit annoyed of my childish excitement, he asked me what was going on. I tried my best to tell him the story in a way that he would understand. I couldn't. I was too excited. I was stuttering and incoherent. My narrative was obscure. He kept asking questions and I kept giving him answers that only confused him even more.

I gave up. "It doesn't matter. The point is, I'm gonna get laid tonight. With my ultimate crush. Bukas na ko magkukuwento. [I'll tell you the story tomorrow.]"

So we started with dinner. After two mouthfuls of greens, I stopped eating. I couldn't eat. The salad was competing for space against the butterflies in my stomach. I just sat there with Dan with a smile that he made fun of because it would beat any endorser any toothpaste brand has ever had. I sat there at the dining table, but my mind was already rummaging my closet for my outfit for the night. And for the following day, in case he asked me to spend the night there.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited even more.

It was already half past midnight, the last train from Tung Chung would be leaving in 12 minutes or so. I realized I was waiting in vain. I just hoped he wouldn't text me after the last train had gone. It would have been very frustrating.

I wasn't frustrated. He didn't text or call at all.
_________________________

Following day, Tuesday.

AT around 8pm, I was already home from work and in my sarong making dinner for Dan and me. From the kitchen, I heard my phone give out a message alert beep. I knew it was Dan. He was probably gonna ask whether there was anything he needed to pick up from the grocery store before coming home. There was nothing I could think of so I didn't bother fetch my phone from my room. I figured he would get the message that my not replying meant he could skip the grocery. When the fish I was cooking was done, I went to my room and picked up the phone from my bed. It was the Aussie guy who frustrated me about 16 hours ago.

His message read: "I made dinner. What time are you coming?"

...will be continued. promise.

________________________________

Just Another Date

There's this Aussie man I've had the biggest crush on for the longest time. Big time crush, I'm not kidding. The type that makes me swoon everytime I see him across the bar from me, ordering his whisky and coke. The type that makes me speechless and blushing like a 13-year old everytime he says, "Hi Rye!". The type that makes me drop my cigarette go scampering for some gum everytime he says, "Smoking a lot again?"

He's 39 years old, very, very handsome, has a well-kept physique, a pair of gorgeous blue eyes, a nice set set of small teeth, and very, very masculine facial hair. He's extremely sexy --- physically and personality-wise. But I never fantasized about him. Ever. I've always thought he was waaaaaaaaaaaaay out of my league. He was, to me (ok... hold on to your seats and take a deep breath, what you are about to read next is disgustingly cheesy), like a star. A sight to behold. And just that --- a sight to behold and not to possess. Or even touch.

Monday night, I got an sms from him which said: "Hi Ryan! How are you?" I was dumbfounded. I didn't know how to reply. I couldn't even decide whether I should reply at all. For all I know, he could have meant to send that message to another Ryan. Eventually, I took a chance and said "I'm all good. How've you been yourself?"

What followed was an exchange of 64 messages in 2 hours, all in all.

At some point, our sms turned to flirting, which led to him asking me when I last jacked off. I shamelessly gave him an honest answer: "Before the first dawn of 2008."

"You've never wanked since then?" he asked again.

"No. I'm saving it for my first sex for the year."

"Oh! But it's been a week already."

"I know. I have to catch up. The first week's officially over in a few hours."

"Well, cutie, you have to get outta Tung Chung if you wanna get laid." Did he call me cutie? And was he suggesting I went to his place or something?

"I probably will if somebody interesting invites me."

"Hold on. Let me check if my flat is presentable."

...will be continued. promise.

___________________________

Lessons On Medical Check-Up

With an air of cockiness, I went out of our apartment door 10 minutes to 9 today. It was a Friday morning, my day off, and I was out and about early enough to run errands and conquer the world! Ok, maybe the "conquer the world" part was a bit too much. The point is, I was gonna be productive today and it got me all excited. And cocky.

By 10:45, quarter of an hour ahead of schedule, my first major task for the day had been accomplished. To reward myself, I went down to Jollibee in Central and treated myself to a Champ. Deh-lee-cious!

Later on, I took the train to Tsing Yi for my pinaka-major task for the day, a obligation I had put off for more than a month but which I needed to accomplish today lest I wanted to be deported: the mandatory employment medical check-up. See, I am very, very conscious of the food I eat, but I smoke a hell lot and I party way too much, that I needed ample time to prepare for this major event.

After submitting the medical questionnaire, Ling (the chinese nurse who attended on me) handed to me a cup which was to contain my urine sample and showed me the way to the john. I complied. As, out of curiosity, I examined my urine sample, I remembered the cartons of cranberry juice that I had picked up from the grocery store days ago. I was supposed to consume all of them before today, in order to "naturally" cleanse my liver of the toxins and free radicals that pollute it. I didn't finish even one carton. And yesterday, the most crucial day of my crash detox, I failed to reach my quota of 15 glasses of water. How irresponsible of me! I shook my head in disappoinment and went back to Ling.

Chest x-ray followed. Their xray procedure here is less scary than in Manila. It somehow felt safe, unlike those back home that feel like allusions to pre-death hospital scenes in melodramatic movies, where whenever one went into the xray room, he felt that he had brain cancer or something.

She later took my height and weight. I found out that I finally gained those elusive 5 lbs. I've been trying to put on over the past 13 months. FINALLY. After tubs and tubs of protein shake. 13, approximately. She checked my eyesight. No mistakes. Then my color vision. Perfect! Then she took my blood sample. As soon as my blood started to slowly fill the tube, she asked whether I've already had water since I got up this morning. I said no, which was the truth. She said I should have. I knew that. But I was in a hurry to conquer the world that I forgot. Afterwards, she instructed me to sit in the reception area and wait for my name to be called.

As I sat in the middle of kids who seemed cockier than I was, I saw a printed word document posted on the wall that said something like:

"Reminder to patients undergoing medical check-up: Please remove your shirt,
pants/skirt and accessories and wear the provided robe. Do not take off your
underwear."

It was then that I realized I left the house without any underwear on. I don't usually wear anything under the wear that wearing a pair of briefs or boxers, for me, needed some planning and reminding myself. And I did plan to. I just forgot. Hell, I was in a rush to conquer the world!

I remembered how humiliating it was when I last did a physical check-up, just before I left Manila in 2005 for this same job. The doctor examining me instructed me to pull down my pants so that he could check me for hernia. Little did I know that in this day and age, some doctors do not ask their patients to pull down their undies anymore. They could feel it even with the patient's undergarments on. That doctor was one of them. I pulled down my pants and exposed my soul to him. Then he told me to pull my undies back up. With a little bit of sarcasm, he said he didn't need to see my package. I embarassingly told him I didn't have any. Today at the reception area, I was sure I would be humiliated again!

In no longer than 10 minutes, I was called to room 4 by the doctor. He asked about the history of diabetes and hypertension that I have indicated in the medical questionnaire and I answered him turthfully. He asked whether I was being scrupulous about my health, given my genetic conditions. I said yes. He said. "Apparently not enough. You smoke more than a pack a day." I gave no retort. I dared not. Then he checked my blood pressure and said that I was a little bit on the hypertensive side. I found it quite alarming. This was the first time I was ever told that. After telling him how I felt, he told me not to worry. He said it could be just the effect of some external factors. "Like what?", I asked.

He said, "Like... Are you nervous now?"

"I am now, but not while you were taking my bp."

"Did you sleep well last night?"

"Yes."

"How many hours?"

"Four."

"That's not enough. Did you have breakfast?"

"No. But I had a burger half an hour ago."

"And you drank last night, didn't you?"

"Do I smell of alcohol still?"

"Yes."

I smiled.

"See, that could be the reason. Next time you go on a medical check-up, try not to drink the night before, have at least 6 hours of sleep, have breakfast and drink some water with your breakfast. That way, you're sure your medical check-up results won't be confusing. And alarming." Then he followed his quick lecture with a smirk.

______________________

"just like the seasons
there are reasons
for the path we take
there are no mistakes
just lessons
lessons to be learned"

--Barbra Streisand, "Lessons To Be Learned"

And the lesson for today is:
"Don't schedule a medical check up at 11 fucking 30 in the morning. It's depressing."
___________________________

A Week Late

...but Happy New Year, nonetheless!

S2 Ep 24, "The Late New Year's Ep" of The Dan & Rye Show, Out Now!

Sorry, we know this is a bit late. But you know what they say, "Better late than never."

mahal namin kayo!

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!

It's A Small World. Made Smaller By Blogging. Made Even Smaller By Volume.

An sms from Kiks, received 10 minutes ago, as a reply to my comment on his latest blog entry:

"Anatomizing sadness can be exhausting. Right now, I'm just so devoid of emotions. Thanks still. I'll call you when I'm not numb anymore."

My reply:

"Big kiss. You have a friend here in Tung Chung."

Three points:

• In exactly 14 days, my ex and I would be separated for a year. After a year of uncertainty (whether I should go on hoping for reconciliation or move on), I finally got his message clear. I should really start moving on now. I have been readying myself for this moment. I was gonna get drunk, cry, wallow in pain, maybe call in sick even and just refuse to function at all. I was gonna write an entry that would end in something like, "I thought the hardest part was the break-up. I was wrong. Realizing the break-up was final and it is time to move on is even harder. The hardest, I could only hope." Surprisingly, I am not sad. Though I want to, I am not even going through that tedious process of anatomizing sadness. And pain. I've probably gone through that profusely over the last 11 months and 2 weeks that there's nothing left to anatomize anymore. Kiks couldn't have put it any better than the way he did in his sms. Anatomizing, being devoid of emotions (or reason), being numb --- I went through all that for almost a year. Gone are they all when I expected them most.


• I hope that text messaging technology can convey how much I meant my message to Kiks. It was short and nothing remotel close to preponderant. But it came from the heart. I wanted to begin this entry with "An sms from fellow blogger, Kiks..." I didn't. He's a friend now. Not just a fellow blogger. Thanks to blogging and Volume for bringing us to each other's midst.


• I love it that Kiks doesn't misspell his words intentionally to save time time, energy and text space when typing important messages such as this. That makes him more than just a friend now. He's a KC.

"It is when you start to run and you continue to run. And run. And run."

-Kiks, Anatomy Of Sad

____________________________

Another One For Julius, My Walnut

Julius wrote on Multiply:

i just miss ur company...ung usap ng mga bagay tungkol sa buhay buhay. inuman. coffee. sat nite. grabe, ang bilis ng oras. pero thankful ako kay sa Kanya dahil at least ngkasama tyo dyan at nging close. hehe. i just told nigel that im having a hard time meeting new friends here. wala akong mpuntahan kung nlulungkot ako or masaya ako. missin the old days. lets have coffee soon. hehe. sana ganun kdali. i know that ur all busy over there. request...text text nyo na naman ako oh...pkisabi din sa mga sea creatures...dan and cris.

miss u friend...happy new year.ano ng nangyayari sa buhay mo dyan? r u dating smebody rite nw? kwento ka nman-)...im happy with nige pero miss ko kyo!

It would be fair to say that to receive something like this from Julius is not totally unusual. But the timing of this message is quite is quite surprising. Pleasantly surprising, I mean.

After quite some time, only today did I find the inspiration again to give a dance class. After the class, most of my colleagues thanked me and it gave me so much joy to see that a lot of them enjoyed the combination that I gave. There was not a single walk-out, and my colleagues from the afternoon shift who came in the rehearsal hall, before my class ended, for their briefing seemed to enjoy seeing what they saw. All in all, my class was, for me, fulfilling. A simple victory, in a venue with dancers of different dance backgrounds, various temperaments, and dissimilar drive and interest levels. In the middle of the class, though; after seeing my first group of boys do the combination, I started thinking about Julius. And I thought about him even until Julie and I started discussing the dynamics of french contemporary dance vis-a-vis the modern american technique, 6 hours after the class. I couldn't help but compare Julius to the boys, especially the new ones.

Julius has always been a bit insecure about his modern and contemporary technique. He doesn't seen it, but the ultimate reason he hasn't gotten over his insecurity is that he has never seen himself perform. He's one friend-slash-fellow-dancer I love experimenting on, choreographically, because we have mutual trust and respect for each other as artists. And being one of my closest friends, he can read accurately the emotional content of my movement vocabulary. As friends, our opinions are on the opposite sides of the spectrum. In effect, he is probably the friend I argue most often with. But in the rehearsal hall, we are kindred souls. And nothing could ever go wrong between us, and to us, together.

Coming home from work, I got an unwelcome sms from some guy. I thought of replying, "I'm tired of your games. Let's just forget we ever met." But I didn't. I realized I would just feed on his need for attention even more if I did. Then when I got home and I turned on my computer, I found an email from an ex who's been acting inconsiderate and cold lately and it's really disconcerting. This made me remember Julius again. In one of my blog entries, I said,

"[My friends] are those who constantly witness; painstakingly try to bear with; and are often subjected to my, what other people may call, bitchiness. But of all the friends I have, the sole person who holds the throne of being my favorite prey is Julius. Not because I secretly harbor ill feelings against him (I can’t. He is such a good person for anyone to do that.); but because he’s a Leo. And there is a long list of Leos who have broken my heart. I sometimes see them in him so he automatically becomes my punching bag. "

Today is one of those days when the I say, "Why can't all Leos just love me the way Julius does?"

I miss you too, Julius. Know that neither time nor distance can change how much I love you.

Taking A Break From The Highlights

an excerpt from a YM window

...

Law: yun lang. I hope you're not that affected by it.

Ryeness: not at all.

Law: great

Ryeness: i barely know the guy.

Law: so it's over?

Law: i hope?

Ryeness: sobra.

Law: buti naman

Ryeness: it was a momentary high.

Law: sabi ko sa yo eh

Ryeness: natuwa lang ako coz he made me feel desired even for but a fleeting moment.

Law: he's good at doing that.. but he can also drop you like a hot potato. buti na lang you didnt have to experience that. medyo naloka ako sa yo nung mga panahong yun eh. di ko alam kung anong gagawin ko.

Ryeness: true. well, i didn't go through all that heartcahe in the past for nothing

Ryeness: i am stubborn but i do learn my lessons. :-)

Law: :-)

Ryeness: as a matter of fact, there are more lessons that the universe is slapping me with right now.

Law: tell me more about those things when I get back, ok?

_________________

The 12 Days Of Christmas Highlights 3

...continued.

Day 6 (Dec 25) - Christmas Dinner at Steve's. On his Multiply account, Steve said: "This gathering is not about Christmas or New Year... but I just moved flat, and found an excuse therefore to invite some friends for some food and some booze." So it was more like a house warming party-slash-G4M HK-mini-EB. Hehehe!

The two buckets of Chickenjoy were, without a doubt, the main feature on the dining table, but it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Enan's pasta, shrimps and sweet & sour fish were even more heavenly.

When Steve invited us days before the actual event, I joked about wanting Moët & Chandon for Christmas. That evening, he apologized for not being able to get a bottle of Moët & Chandon. He got Veuve Clicquot Brut instead. And not one, but two bottles. Besides that, he also got 4 bottles of vodka, and a bottle of Merlot.Isn't Steve such an angel?

Day 7 (Dec 26) - Chris's Boat Party. Chris turned 23 and decided to celebrate with 50+ friends, on a boat that cruised from Marina Bay, Discovery Bay to Central. On the photo above are me and Chris, unwrapping the cheeses and cold cuts.

the class photo at Marina Bay, taken 2 minutes before we boarded the boat

Halfway through the trip, some people started getting seasick. Others started getting drunk. Some just kept taking photos. Everyone was cold. And I hoarded the Camembert and a bottle of Bordeaux and stayed in my own little corner on the upper deck of the boat.

Day 8 (Dec 27) - An Affair To Remember, The Christmas Prom. Sometime in the first week of December, Ate Des approached me at work, told me about this Christmas party her husband, Ralion was organizing, and asked me whether I had the time and the interest to design the invite. I eagerly said yes and came up with two studies: the one above (the official invite) and the one below (my personal pitch). Everyone got excited right after the invites were sent out and some people started looking for something nice and dressy to wear. Dan and I started scouting for potential prom dates.

Dressing up as fantasy or fictional characters is something we do on a regular basis. Dressing up sharply isn't. In the morning of the 27th, I woke up with a minor stiff neck that got worse at work. But I didn't let that stop me from coming to the party (and I got in trouble for doing so). When I got to the party, I was delighted to see that there were more than one Justin-Brian pair. There were (photo below) Steve-Dan, Ryeness-Ryan, and Nelson-Mansley.


me and my very adorable date, Ryan dancing to "King & Queen of Hearts"
The Dan & Rye Show goes manly. A very rare TD&RS event.

Had the organizers decided to pick the "Prom King & Queen" that night, I'm pretty certain these two would get the award:

"looking stupid and doing it with INTEGRITY" -- Marah's very own words, describing her look for the night.

...will be continued.

_____________________

The 12 Days Of Christmas Highlights 2

...continued.

Day 3 (Dec 22) - The Dan & Rye Show's "secret friends" came over for drinks.

Day 4 (Dec 23) - LK Christmas Party. Fran, a hideously talented young dancer backed out from doing the invocational dance on the account of an injury he got 3 days before the party. Being one of the very few serious numbers, "Silent Love Runs Deep" (choreographed by Mamu, performed by Belle & me) was moved to the beginning of the program. Though short, the piece was well-received by our colleagues and was applauded generously. Thanks, Mamu! And thanks Belle for doing the piece with me despite the very limited number of rehearsals. Can't wait for the full version to be choreographed.

Another show-stopper. The trockadero-ish version of Mamu's Ballet Les Femmes, performed by (what Dan calls) Big Girls' Society--- Chris and me.

Modesty aside, this number by Chris, Dan & me (what remains of the Swarovskis), and our respective partners was much-anticipated. The cha-cha-cha, choreographed by Nick.

The Dan & Rye Show goes glam in the annual mock awards.

Day 5 (Dec 24) - Noche Buena. A very dear friend, Gil, flew in at 9pm of the 24th and joined our little Noche Buena at Ayi's.

The embutido, keso de bola, garlic mushrooms and fiesta ham were so disgustingly yummy, we couldn't stop munching. In less than 15 minutes, we were too stuffed, we hardly had any more space in our humongous guts for hotpot and dessert. Ben, Jojo and I decided to take a break. With their SLRs and a saber sword, we headed down to the parking area and decided to do a little photo shoot, which didn't really last long. It was freezing outside and in just a few clicks, my nips were perky like crazy and my jaw was gritting like that of a madman.

...will be continued.

_____________________________