What A Difference A Night Makes

As I walked home from the bus stop last night, I called T like I always do. He was a little frustrated that his internet wasn't working. I was the last to use his computer so I thought, maybe, I broke his Mac. When I got home, I realized that it was neither his connection or his computer that was acting up. Facebook was down. So was Yahoo. So was Hotmail.

That was last night. 10:30ish pm. Fast forward to this morning... 10ish.

I refused to take off my eye mask because I knew deep in my heart it wasn't waking time for me yet. But my body and mind refused to cooperate. There was no way they'd let me go back to sleep. So I got up, checked my phone and found out it wasn't even 10am yet.

I headed to the kitchen to get my morning water (since I stopped smoking, I have learned to make a habit of having water the first thing to go into my system everyday), and then to my computer shortly after to feed my restaurant staff, water my flowers, and socialize. That's Restaurant City, Farmtown and Sorority Life, in case you're a little confused.

And then I filed the bank statements that have been lying on my work desk for about two months already. Over the course, I have found some documents that need to be filled up. I looked into my filing cabinet to search for some numbers, which I didn't find, so I decided calling Fidelity. I ended up accomplishing not one task, not two, but three, out of that 5-minute phone call. I then called AIA and completed a task which wasn't even on my list.

I fixed myself some lunch, brewed coffee, had some of Josh's double Graham chocolate ref cake, and went on with my tasks.

Sorted the laundry, cleared up my work desk, revised the Chiquitta blog, re-fed my staff, harvested, planted, socialized even more, chatted with T, replied to business emails.

Now, I'm finishing this entry, and it's only 2:50pm. (I actually would have finished this 10 minutes ago had Chris not called. But he did and I had to take it, since he seldom calls now and he's soon leaving HK. Sume-senti. Pagbigyan.)

It's amazing how much one can accomplish when he turns in early to wake up just a wee bit earlier than usual. More importantly, it's amazing what difference a night without Facebook makes.

Lutong Macau

I've never really enjoyed Macau until my last visit.

Perhaps because I have never really explored it as extensively. Or maybe because in my previous trips, I wasn't privileged enough to sleep at the Venetian. Or maybe simply because, this time I was with T. And being with him made all the difference.

Pre-departure.

At the elevator landing of the 14th floor,
just before we started the hunt for Rm. 14-003.
We weren't warned that the whole south wing of the Venetian
was as huge as Megamall Bldg. A.
(Guy, BTW, is one of Jason's best friends. It was
my first time to meet him but it felt like we've known
each other in our teens. Err... well, in his teenage and my toddler years.)


the main event.
Belle, you made me very proud of you again.

our first round of drinks.
Sparkling sangria for me, Rose sangria for T,
and ice-cold beer for Guy.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
who's the bitchest of them all?

She brought us carrot cake, inside scoop and lots of fun.

Pineapple barbecue with cinnamon sugar
for breakfast at Fogo Samba

AUMULU-ing at the Ven

T being such a good tourist.

the Macau landmark.
We didn't go any closer than this.
"What's the point?", I quipped.
"I was able to get it by zooming in anyway."

The most sumptuous lunch and
the most refreshing
noontime sangria (they use lemons instead of oranges)
at Fernando's

*Thanks, Miss Jamesy for lending my your Cybershot! Full album to be posted soon, with the official video documentation.

Years Go By

Like fine wine, some things just get better as they age through the years. Things, such as beauty, friendship, love, and party skills.

2007


2008


2009

And us, in general.


Happy birthday, my beloved Jamesy! Here's to even finer beauty, friendship, love, party skills, and us in the coming years. I love you.

Be My Lady

In no particular order, here are the ladies that inspired me, moved me, and made me smile today, and made me realize that, no matter how certain I am that I will never, in this lifetime, fall in love with any of them, the world would just be a mess without women. This is my way of honoring them.

REMS
Rems is, literally and figuratively, a hard habit to break. She is my in-transit-to-work-on-the-phone companion. We spend about half an hour chatting, to an from work. not collectively. Half an hour to, and half an hour from. She sets the tone of my day and calms me after a long day. It is difficult to break away from her. She is my mother , I am stuck with her forever. And I have no qualms being stuck with her. I am grateful, in fact. There is no other woman I'd rather love for my entire time on earth.

NURSE ANN
Nurse Ann, my Smoking Cessation Counsellor, is to me what a kindergarten teacher is to her pupils. I have always held a tremendous amount of admiration for kindergarten teachers. They are noble matriarchs of great power and authority. How often do we hear a child say he eats veggies because his teacher told him vegges are good for him? A mother can force-feed veggies on her child. But all he needs is to be told by his teacher to eat them. I know for a fact that quitting smoking is one of the most intelligent, most reasonable, most beneficial decisions I have ever, ever made in my life. But to be told by her that I am doing good and that I am on the right track just validates that ten-folds. Her weekly calls have been nothing but delight.

THE GURLS
They are the ones who come to my classes regularly. They are the ones who can--- in terms of stamina, pick-up and strength--- out-dance the other girls who only come to my classes when there are no other instructors and they have no other choice. They can out-crunch them, out-stretch them, out-pas de bouree them. Best of all, they have an understanding of their own bodies. They know what works for them, and what doesn't. They know the importance of wam-up and stretching, and they know that water breaks are not fellowship or gossip hour. They probably don't know it, but they inspire me in so many ways. Every now and then, I still ask myself whether what I am doing now is what I really wanna do. Until now, I still don't know the answer. What I do know (and I know this because of them) is that, in the meantime, I am not wasting my time and energies doing what I'm doing. They are happy, they see results, they enjoy it. And that makes me happy.

ATE CORA
Ate Cora is an empowered woman. She defeated in two hours, the grease buildup in our kitchen that was three years in the making. And she did it with tremendous aplomb and out-of-the-box witty remarks.

My Mother Is A Faghag

an sms exchange

Yesterday, Mother's Day 09
few minutes after Mai's call from Dubai, about 2 hours after mine.

Remi: I was sad kanina, i thought you've forgotten me. Fone was busy with greetings from people who know me but no word from you. What a relief it was to hear from you both, one after the other. Love you!


Rye: The thing is, Rems... We don't need a day as superficial as this to celebrate your motherhood. We commemmorate that everyday. Everyday is Mother Remi's Day! Love you!


Remi: Hehehe! KSP lang talaga si maderhood! Afraid talaga ko na iwan nyo ko. Waaaah! Di ko carry! Kahit matanda na ko, wag nyo ko iiwan ha?

Had Enough?

Had enough of Susan Boyle? Well, let's take a break, shall we?

Ladies and gentlemen, Hollie Steel. Not much drama, but enormous talent nonetheless.

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

...and don't, under any circumstances, judge a lady by her eyebrows.

I Wish For 27-Hour Saturdays

Saturday came and saw us--- me and Dan--- sitting on the couch, discussing about life and everything that it has thrown on us in the past couple of weeks. For almost six hours, we just sat there reminiscing, smiling, laughing at ourselves, hoping. It had been too long since we last did this. Hours passed, and as they did, our eyes became heavier and our bodies grew tired, but we fought sleep. The spirit was very willing, and so we forced the body to cooperate.

At some point, we looked out the window. Saturday has already settled in and another visitor was coming: aurora. Finally, and unwillingly, we relented to the call of slumber.

Lunchtime. I heard a knock at the door and after quickly inspecting my phone to check the time, I opened up. It was my foster son, Jethro. He came by to pay his foster mom and foster aunt a visit before flying to Manila for his birthday. And as if that wasn't sweet enough, he brought us Korean takeout for lunch. After ringing us both at least four times each in the morning and being redirected to voicemail every single time, he figured Dan & I were gonna wake up late with no food on the table. He wanted us to start the day right, and took the initiative to start it right for us. Oh, bless! A little over half an hour later, he received a call from his biological sister. That was his cue to leave. We kissed him goodbye, wished him a happy birthday, and watched him trail off like moms sending their kid off to school.

By mid-afternoon, I was in Central with my Pink Becky and a 7-kg weekend bag. I was gonna meet up with T at Mix on Hollywood Road. That plan instantly changed when I called Enan, who was on his way out but had nowhere to go. He originally had plans for the afternoon but they were cancelled just right before I called him. I urged him to come with me to my ocular instead. "We'll go on a filed trip!," I told him excitedly. An hour and a venti serving of Caramel Macchiato later, our Saturday troop was complete and ready to go: me, T, and Enan (E to some people, actually, to one person).

As we were getting ready to face the task at hand, I received news that the upcoming photoshoot had already been called off, so there was no more need to do an ocular. We were in such a field trip mode and we didn't want to waste that. We decided to explore the Sun Yat-Sen Museum in T's neighborhood.

the wax display that scared me

Enan and Dr. Sun Yat-Sen

then it was my turn

post-its as guestbook

After accomplishing the educational pamphlet that they gave us at the museum, we decided to cap the field trip with a round of happy hour drinks at Volume. But of course, a round of drinks at happy hour means two rounds of drinks. Later on, we settled the bill and found out it was happiER hour. Joseph, the owner of Volume and a good friend of ours, gave us an even bigger discount on top of the 2-4-1 deal. Such an angel!

E & T while waiting for drinks

From V0lume, we--- all three of us--- headed to the grocery store o pick up stuff for dinner. I had brought Cabanatuan longganiza over to T's earlier in the afternoon, but I thought I needed another dish to go with it. Besides the fact that there were only 5 pieces and there were 3 of us, T wasn't really fond of pork. The second dish would be my back-up. Tinola. Chicken simmered and tenderized in garlic and ginger broth, seasoned with fish sauce, pepper and, to give it a western feel, served with broccoli. T liked them, thank God, so did E.

It was almost midnight when we finished eating.

I was pouring chardonnay into my glass when we received a call from Corky. He wanted to go out and see us, and we delightfully said yes.

By midnight, T, E, Corky and I were walking down the hill from Caine to Hollywood, excited of the night ahead, while sadly waving Saturday goodbye.

Sunday was coming, and there was no stopping her. In a few hours, I would have to detach myself from the weekend that just went by so swiftly, and prepare myself for the coming of Monday. I paused for a while and wished to the stars that Saturdays were a little longer than all other other days of the week.

Dizizit Pt. 4- Really, Dizizit.

The plane hadn't stopped taxiing yet and the fasten seatbelt sign was still on when I turned my mobile phones on: that which had my HK sim and that which had my Philippine sim. As soon as they let out their respective sounds, the other passengers around me turned their heads towards me and gave me a persecutive look. Embarassing. I got out of the plane as soon as the doors opened.

I was in line for the immigration when I realized none of my phones worked. I forgot to turn the my HK roaming on, and my Philippine sim was out of credits. I ran to the nearest call card dispensing machine which was, lo and behold, defective. It ate up my two hundred pesos and refused to accept the last hundred. After hitting the machine twice, I gave up and said goodbye to my money. Thank God there was a phone booth nearby; close to it, were two of the passengers that weren't amused when I turned my phones on earlier. With much delight and pride, they gave me a demeaning look. I tried to ignore them, dropped the coins and dialled Bibe. She said she was on the way; but I knew it would take her long.

I parked myself close to the passenger exit, so that Bibe would easily spot me when she arrived. Thirty minutes later, I realized that it had been almost 4 hours since I last had a cigarette. I decided to have one, but didn't know where to go. "Manong, san pwede mag-yosi? (Sir, where may I smoke?)," I asked the first security guard I saw.

"Dyan. (Right there.)," His answer was quick, as though my question was stupid.

I looked around but didn't find an ashtray. Instantly, an incident that happened at the domestic airport during my last Manila visit, back in 2007, flashed in my mind.

Towards my last three puffs, I saw a security person and politley asked, "Manong, san pwede magtapon nito (Sir, where can I throw this)?" referring to my cigarette butt.

"Dyan. (Right there.)" He pointed to the ground.

(Bonne Vacances, November 16, 2007)

I wondered whether I'd see a deja vu. I tried, and I did see a deja vu.

Few more minutes later, Bibe and her endearing boyfriend, Pusoy arrived. As soon as I hopped in the car, we started yakking relentlessly. We didn't stop until we got to the Ayala underpass. Bibe was talking about her mom and I rudely cut her with a big gasp.

"What happened, babe?", she asked.

"Black smoke. I missed this. Pollution at its finest," I smiled.

It had already been a long day for me, and it wasn't even past lunchtime yet. It was my first day. There was a longer day ahead of me, and in order to prepare myself for that, we decided to go for lunch--- my first Manila meal. JT's pecho, chicken tail, garlic rice and San Mig Strong Ice.

There couldn't have been a better welcome.

In her album, Bibe captioned this photo,
"Oscar (that's me, of course) and his old friend."

Bibe, the girl whom Rems wished I would marry,
and her boyfriend Pusoy, the man whom I wish I could marry.

Not All Triple Threats Are Created Equal

In 2002, I was called to a conference by the Membership Committee of the Philippine Educational Theater Association (PETA), then headed by Melvin Lee. I had just completed my one year application period and they were ready to promote me to apprentice.

After explaining what was expected of me and what I could expect from the company as a apprentice, Melvin asked if I had any questions.

"Is there any way I could defer my apprenticeship?" I asked. I was joining Ballet Philippines then as a company scholar and if I wanted to make the most of the limited life span of a dancer's career, I had focus all my time and energies to dance. There was no room for extra-curricular. I told them that. I made it clear to the committee that I wanted to dance professionally while I still could physically. But I didn't want to leave PETA.

They understood my predicament. While they wanted to support me in my endeavor, as part of the company, I was expected to be there. If I couldn't, what was the point of being an apprentice?

"What will I do?" I asked the. I was seriously perplexed.

"Would you rather be known as the dancer who can act or the actor who can dance?" Melvin attempted to make it easier for me.

I wasn't able to answer.

Years after that afternoon, I finally decided what I wanted to be known as. When I left Ballet Philippines in 2004, I joined the Actors' Company as a scholar and The Pride Manila Chorus as a pioneer member. I put myself out in the arts scene in Manila and experienced what I could. I was determined to become a triple threat.

It's been 5 years, and I am still not. Whether or not I will get there; whether or not the new priorities I have for myself now can accommodate that dream still; and whether or not I still dream of being that --- I am really not sure now.

But I can't help but wonder, what could have become of me if I had realized this dream when I was 9. Could I have come close to what Mitchel David Federan accomplished at his young age?

To be recognized as a triple threat is a laudable feat in itself; but to own the stage and command the audience's attention and be remembered for that one, single scene that a triple threat will appear on is even more laudable. To be onstage with Hugh Jackman is one thing; but to accomplish all these at the age of 12 is way beyond something.

I Call Him Tebs.

And though things are no longer the same,
the friendship remains.
The promise remains.

Thank you for the friendship.
The love.
And the little wrinkles that make for
a stunning parchment that is our friendship.


Happy 31st, Tebs!
MY Tebs

High (acoustic) - Lighthouse Family

When youre close to tears remember
Some day itll all be over
One day were gonna get so high
And though its darker than december
Whats ahead is a different colour
One day were gonna get so high

And at
The end of the day
Well remember the days
We were close to the edge
And well wonder how we made it through
And at
The end of the day
Well remember the way
We stayed so close to till the end
Well remember it was me and you

cause we are gonna be forever you and me
Youll always keep me flying high in the sky of love

Dont you think its time you started
Doing what we always wanted
One day were gonna get so high
cause even the impossible is easy
When we got each other
One day were gonna get so high

And at
The end of the day
Well remember the days
We were close to the edge
And well wonder how we made it through
And at
The end of the day
Well remember the way
We stayed so close to till the end
Well remember it was me and you

cause we are gonna be forever you and me
You will always keep me flying high in the sky of love

How Are You Gonna Get Up?

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling,
but in rising every time we fall."

-Confucius

One Last Lecture

If you were to give one last lecture, what would it be about?


Randy Pausch, professor of computer science and human-computer interaction and design at Carnegie Mellon University, gave his 10 months before he passed away in July of 2008.

On Sept. 19, 2006, Randy was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Almost a year later, after undergoing an unsuccessful Whipple procedure, he was told he only had three to six months of good health.

On September 18, 2007, Randy gave his last lecture at CMU, "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams", the condensed version of which, he delivered on Oprah in October of 2007. Below is the video of that condensed version on Oprah. To watch the 1 hour, 16 minute-original lecture, click here.

Mr. Pausch passed away on July 25, 2008. He is survived by his wife and three kids, the people for whom his lecture was originally written.

What Do They Feed These Kids?

Jazmine Sullivan in 99, at 11.

There's Something About Mary

The dancing.

The spirit.

The person.

A wise man once said, "When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live in such a manner than when you die, the world cries and you rejoice!"

And she did just that.



*video posts lifted from Ida Beltran-Lucila's Multiply page. Thanks for sharing, ate Gen!

Inspiration For The Day

*Thanks for sharing, T!

The News About Mary

Washington Ballet Studio Company dancer Mary Saludares, 20, was killed Friday night when she was struck by a car in Harford County. The ballet company has canceled the remainder of its tour, including its Sunday performances at Howard Community College in Columbia. (photo courtesy Washington Ballet Company/Tony Powell)

Washington Ballet performance here canceled after dancer is killed

20-year-old struck by car in Edgewood; group was to perform at Howard Community College

Posted 2/21/09

Mary Saludares, a 20-year-old member of The Washington Ballet Studio Company, was struck and killed by a car Friday night in Edgewood, State Police said.

The award-winning company was scheduled to perform Sunday at 4 and 7:30 at at Howard Community College's Smith Theater as part of the Candlelight Concert Society's Family Series, but The Washington Ballet announced in a release that it had canceled the remainder of its tour. The release said the group was on tour in Harford County when the accident occurred.

According to the State Police, Saludares was crossing Route 24 at Edgewood Road just after 10 p.m. when she was struck by a southbound silver Chevrolet Impala driven by Robert Kane of Abingdon. Saludares was pronounced dead at Upper Chesapeake Medical Center.

State Police were investigating the accident.

“No words can describe the pain of losing Mary,” said The Washington Ballet Artistic Director Septime Webre. “She was not only a beautiful dancer, but a radiant soul who emitted peace and joy. The entire TWB family mourns her passing and extends its thoughts and prayers to Mary’s family.”

Saludares began dancing at the age of 6 under Sofia Elizalde and Raul Sauz at Steps Dance Studio in Manila, Philippines. In 2006, she received the highest Royal Academy of Dance Award, the Solo Seal. She had the honor of being the first Filipino entry in the 2006 Adeline Genée International Ballet Competition.

In 2004, she received the Luva Adameit Award in the first NAMCYA Ballet Competition in the Philippines. She later attended the School of American Ballet and The Washington School of Ballet's Release Time year-round program. She was selected to join The Washington Ballet Studio Company for its 2008-2009 season, achieving one of her dreams of moving from student to professional.

Saludares is survived by her father, José M. Saludares Jr.; her mother, Marissa S. Saludares; and two brothers, Patrick Vincent Saludares and Bryan Joseph Saludares.

Students and staff are being offered grief counseling services. A memorial service is being planned for early March in Washington to honor Saludares. A private family funeral will be held in the Philippines in the coming days.

-----------------------
*lifted from a Multiply blog; source unspecified.

Cultivating The Sean Cody In All Of Us

WARNING: Reader discretion is strongly advised.

I have a certain degree of admiration for Sean Cody. I will explain why, but first, let me introduce him to my readers who do not watch gay porn, by quoting parts of his auto-written profile on his website. Here goes:

"Who am I? Well, I am an average guy who just happens to have a love for the beauty of the male form. I'm actually very normal in most respects and when people meet me they can't believe I do this because I am very clean cut and I look very straight-laced.

When I turned thirty I decided to start an adult website because I knew it was something I would enjoy. I had never even held a camcorder before and I didn't know what I was doing but I learned, mostly through trial and error.

I have a lot of fun running this site and that's why I do it. I've met a lot of cool people and experienced a lot of things I otherwise wouldn't have. The hardest part about being in this line of work is telling people what you do. Fortunately, my family and friends know and they're surprisingly accepting." (from seancody.com. To read the full write-up, click here)

For those who still didn't get it, Sean Cody is a pornographer. Almost every gay man I know, regardless of age, knows of Sean Cody and his works. Not everyone, but 9 out of 10 would be a realistic estimate. Out of these people that I know who know of him, there is not one person whom I know of, that hasn't seen his face in his videos. Yes, hetero readers. He has starred in some of his works.

So why do I admire him? It's not because I'm a performer and he has laudable acting prowess, in fact I'd say his performance is usually lackluster. Not because he has a body of a Greek god, he's never stripped in front of the camera; nor has he a face of an angel. Well, his face would pass for innocent but wouldn't it be odd to see an angel in a porn flick?

I admire Sean Cody because he is a man with conviction. He decided what to do with his life and he stood by it. For some, making choices is easy, but for others it's not. For some, standing up for the choices they make is easy, especially if they know that the choice that they make fits in the stereotypical definition of noble; but for others, who make unpopular choices, it is not. Sean Cody is one of the "others". And the "others" is not a minority.

Every now and then, we make choices that people around us, even those whose opinions matter a lot to us, do not approve of. Sadly, even in this time of new age spirituality that fosters oneness and unity, when majority of our generation fights discord and discrimination and advocates living and letting live, the old adage "You can't please everybody" still holds true. Every option that we are faced with has its own audience, and its own critics, just like every option also has its pros and cons. Between the rock and the hard place, only we know which the better choice is. Only we know which one will give us the closest semblance to bliss and make us sleep soundly at night. If, in the middle of the night, we wake up and realize that the mosquitoes are ruining our sleep, then it is our obligation to ourselves to deal with them, since those mosquitoes are part and parcel of the choice that we made. Feeling sorry for ourselves is preposterous and undignified.

I do not believe that wrong decisions do exist. But there are ways in making decisions, by which we may be wrong. If I choose to be this and to live this way, it is a decision that is neither right nor wrong. It becomes wrong when in the end I realize that I didn't consider that it might be unpopular and that I might be criticized for it and end up explaining myself to people I love and questioning their loyalty and love for me. But if I can look at things objectively enough, I will see that what apparently is an absence of love and loyalty is actually the exact opposite. Since they love me too much, they're not around because they know that being around me will burden me even more. They stepped away because they're letting me be. They're letting me live my life the way I want to, and not the way they do.

Furthermore, if I am man enough to stand by my convictions, I will deal with the consequences of my own choice, even if they were unforeseen. I will not live my choices half-heartedly. I will live it with earnestness, just like the way Sean Cody jumped into his life as a pornographer with certitude the first time he appeared on-cam, fucking Nick. (If you don't have that yet, download it now. That's now considered a precious collector's item.)

Opening Today!

Can't You Read the Menu?
http://ryenessfood.blogspot.com

Pas De Bourree It Forward

For those that the Muse Of Dance chose to mentor me--
Sofia Zobel-Elizalde
Enrico Labayen
Denisa Reyes
...and the men and women that
unconditionally shared their
skills, time and wisdom.

I am not the kind of dancer that my colleagues would call a virtuoso. Neither am I the kind that choreographers would beg on their knees to dance for them. Nor the kind that teachers would kill for, to own pedagogy.

I am just a single unit in the multitude. There will be no tributes staged for me in this lifetime or in the lifetimes that will follow. My life will not be recorded by historians, or studied by scholars. There won't be a school of dance named after me. I am not among the great movers of this artform. Bautista is far from Vaganova, or Forsythe, or Graham, or Cechetti, Nureyev. It doesn't belong to the lines of Labayen, or Reyes, or Jumalon, or Fabella, or Nierras, or Beltran, or Morales.

In the dance atlas, I am insignificant. Invisible, even. But the way by which dance rules my life is neither insignificant nor invisible. It feeds me. It nourishes me. And it keeps me alive. And I wouldn't be enjoying my dancer's life now if not for my mentors who never got tired of sharing--- my mentors who gave and gave and made sure I was learning as much as I can, without even asking for anything in return. Not a single centavo to pay for my tuition fee.

To them, I will forever be grateful. It is my turn to share. My turn to pay it forward.

The Likha Babies prepared
a pre-workshop feast that
we shared on Chater Road in Central

One more picture before digging in.

Good food. Good conversation. Good company.
And it only got better after this sumptuous lunch.

Day 1 Output


Day 2 Output