A Kind Of Rebirth

If the reason that I decided to quit smoking was that I was pregnant,
I would already have given birth a few days ago.
It's been 9 months.


Happy rebirth, lungs!

...That Ends Well

Merlot.

Life Salad.

Home-cooked Beef baltic curry by T.

The mere sight of him.

...All's well
--- even a grueling 2.5-hour staging of "Consider Yourself"
from Oliver with a cast of 4 dozens---
that ends like this.

Thank you, T, for being the light at the end of my tunnel;
the bearer of comfort food at the end of my rehearsal;
the spooner at the end of a long, tiring day.

Body Of Evidence

On Friday, a few minutes just before midnight, my flatmates and I were roused from our peace and quiet upon hearing a loud banging of the steel gate of our building and the frantic running of several people in our hallway. Gil and Razel looked out from the balcony and I hurried to the peephole and looked through it. Cops. They were there to raid our neighbor.

After more than 2 hours, my neighbors-- 20 of them-- were loaded onto a van and taken away. The press, along with the police, left as well.

Before they did, I had already updated my Facebook status to:

Rye Bautista 's building is being watched by cops, photographers and nosy neighbors and he has no idea why.

Friends posted comments, but none of them really showed that they were alarmed. The running joke was, they were looking for a drag queen: my sister, La Chiquitta. It was funny. But then I got to thinking, if that evening, the legislators of the HK government changed their minds and decided that homosexuality was a crime after all and the cops came to my flat to arrest me, there was no way I could deny the allegations. They won't even need a witness, just a few photos.

Would they buy it if I said, this was a religious altar...

...and that this was MY god?

That this was the angel that watched over our door so that evil would never come in?

And what about the 6-inch boots and the other 15 pairs of high heels (not all Chiquitta's by the way)? Sacred footwear that lead us to eternal bliss, perhaps?

Oh, and we haven't even reached the bedroom. Death sentence!

Kainan Na (Naman)!

We are seldom complete in our flat, and so when we are, we make sure we have a nice dinner. Not necessarily swanky or traditional. Just nice enough to make us guilty and at the same time, gratified and smile and say, "Oh god! I overate!"

And also, whenever this happens, I try to document it and blog about it to make some people envious. Like Julius, for example, whose regular diet contains only three vowels: "fish and chips".

So for tonight...

Tinolang tulya (clams)-- cooked the traditional way (simmered with garlic, ginger, long green peppers and fish sauce) and flavored even more with chives and basil.

Tita Mike's Pinatisang Manok-- chicken wings cooked the way Tita Mike makes her Pinatisang manok (simmer in tamarind broth then drizzle with fish sauce and then fry) but smothered with ground garlic, rosemary and siling labuyo.

Steamed choi sum with spicy shrimp paste and green mango

Piping hot white rice

This house needs a food stylist.

On Monday morning, March 8, we are complete again. And it coincides with the Oscars. Does anyone wanna join us for Oscar's breakfast? We'll provide the hotdogs, fried rice and eggs. And maybe some homemade tapa (beef jerky). Hit us up!