Best In Yoga
*inspired by Tita Mike's Facebook status
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Oh and add "Sunday" to that too.Katy: Where have you been?
Dear readers, please help spread the word! The more, the many-er. ;-)
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Today can't be manic. The week ahead is gonna be very, very hectic, and I need to pace myself so that I may be able to sustain this whole stretch, and still live to see my next day off, which, hopefully, will happen before April starts.
Tuesday & Thursday, Saturday & Sunday--
Auditions: Oliver!, for HK Singers
(will be performed in June 2010 at the Hong Kong City Hall Theatre)
Things I miss doin with you:
1. Pigging out
2. Singing na lagi mo ako kino-coach
3. Arguing
4. You opening up to me
5. Mga 1-liner mong statements after a long litany of my emotions
6. Pag palit mo ng password sa pc pag nauubos ko yung isp bonanza mo
7. Pagsama mo sa akin with you whom I adore so much
8. Pagiging makalat mo. Dedma sa clutter
9. Pag kinokontra mo pagkain ko ng kanin
10. Dedma ka lang pag nahuhuli mo akong may booking
11. Pag di mo kinakausap for a month kapag kumukupit ako pera sa wallet mo
12. Pag n-neutralize mo sa amin ni mama
13. Pag a-assert mo magluto whenever I feel like cooking something
14. Pag away mo kay jonas
15. You smoking inside the house.
16. Pag nakikita ko yung kadiri mong diet na fresh egg whites atop youe steamed rice
17. Your ex na super love ko, ni rems, and tutit
18. Your performances with BP and souvenir programs
19. Pagtulog mo na parang never ka ng gigising.
20. Pagkwento mo sa friends mo na masama ugali ko.
1) Adam West, during post-show drinks at Delaney's on opening night of Romeo & Juliet, officially offered me the choreographer post for his late-2010 production. What it is, I am not sure I am allowed to disclose this early. But I am ecstatic to be part of the project. So excited, I am stepping left and right and doing pelvic thrusts! Wootwoo! And I am putting it in writing and tagging my "Sister Mary best friend", Nicole, so that Adam doesn't forget.
2) I am blacklisting people I don't ever wanna work with. I have long been doing this, but only now did I start to actually list them down. Most of them fall under the "BEST" category. Big Ego, Small Talent. I mean, it's ok to have egos. We all do. Small talent is ok, too. With determination, adequate training and proper guidance, that's workable-- it will become big eventually. But Big ego and Small talent together? Not good.
3) Andy Burt is officially on-board my dream project. Watch out, Hong Kong! Spring of 2011. Jamesy, are you ready? On that same note, another person has expressed interest to produce it, and another one to help us organize a few charity performances for a particular NGO. I am not sure I am allowed to divulge who they are, so I will conceal their identities under the names Jason Clark and Rey Asis, respectively.
4) Romeo and Juliet is over. Congratulations, peeps! I am proud to have been part of this undertaking. And thank you all for trusting my own little vision.
Big thanks to Jowzshua for my side-swept fringe.The post. Postponing the New Year's post. Not the arrival of the new year, it's inevitable. Not the festivities, either. It's a sin to postpone any activity that involves consumption of alcohol in large quantities.
I was gonna post something more apt for the occasion, like a review of the year that had just closed or a promise to make the one that had just opened, a lot better than the previous ones, but I decided I'll save that for when all New Year's celebrations have finished.
For today, the first day of 2010, I decided to write about two anniversaries that took place just recently, but which I hadn't written of. And since I am a person who is big on anniversaries (I am bigger on anniversaries than on birthdays or national holidays), it is but just that I write about them, albeit late. You know what they say, better late than never.
December 18, 2008--- I went over to T's after a night of drinking. Loaded with a huge dose of liquid courage, I said to him. "Are we a couple? We have to make this official. Tonight." I was adamant. I made sure he had no way out. Shotgun marriage-- almost like that. And then quickly, I kissed him good night and dozed off; I didn't wake up the following morning until I was sure he had gone to work. I made sure he had no chance of taking it back.
A year, and way too many happy moments together, he still hasn't taken it back, thank God!
I AUMULU, T, here's hoping for many, many more wonderful anniversaries which I won't mind you forgetting, but which I will never, ever get tired reminding you and celebrating. (Next time, hopefully, not over breakfast.)
December 28, 2004--- Out of need of a venue to let it out, Can't You Read?, was born.
Five years; 36, 332 views since its resurrection on May 19, 2007; 510 posts; thousands of hours on end; countless emotions, people, events & life experiences; 3 blog awards & a few reviews and citations here and there; and dozens of new friends later, Can't You Read? is still alive. Not as busy as before, but somehow still serving the same purpose.
This is the very first time that I am celebrating my blog anniversary, and that shouldn't be the case, because my blog is way more abused than any of my best friends-- always there when I need it. Just when I need it.
Thank you, Can't You Read?. And I continue my relationship with you, knowing that somewhere, sometime, one person will stumble upon you and you will change his life, for the better. Oh, and thank you, Dan, for motivating me to blog again.
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I once read a love quote that said something like, "Someday, someone will come and make you thank God that all the others in the past didn't work out." To that someone in my past who is now a good friend--- for pushing me to be where I am now, which made my meeting with T possible; and for that wrinkle in our history that made me start "Can't You Read"--- my deepest, sincerest thanks to you.
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.
This morning I found myself in tears. After giving in to them, I paused and asked myself the reason I was crying. I found two.
First, Corazon Aquino. The woman who paved the way for our generation to know the life of freemen. To live it, and enjoy it to its limits. She led the whole nation in its fight to bring back what it thought it had lost. She restored the dignity of millions of people. She passed away last night.
And then, there's Gloria Arroyo. By invoking solidarity among the Filipinos like her predecessor had done, she, too, ousted an unwanted political leader. Like her predecessor, she promised to restore and rebuild. Whether she failed or not, and if she did, the extent by which she did, I have no idea. I am the least interested in politics or in her. What I do know, is that she robbed my generation of artists the kind of dignity that Aquino fought to give us back.
This morning I found myself in tears. Out of sorrow and grief for the woman who, for years, stood as the matriarch who held my ailing country together; out of pain for my fellow Filipino artists who have been blatantly humiliated and betrayed by the very institution that was supposed to nurture them; and out of utter disgust for the Philippine government that, I am now convinced, is a company of greedy, power-hungry traitors who should have died instead of Cory.
I have never felt so strongly about politics ever before. Just now. So allow me to wallow in my tears some more.
These are two of my godchildren---
Charlize dreams of becoming a ballerina.
Dudi dreams of becoming a visual artist.
Please, God... End the travesty that the government is making out of the arts in the Philippines now, so that my godchildren may become happy, fulfilled artists when they grow up to realize their dreams. I love these kids dearly and I don't want them to suffer the tremendous humiliation and heartbreak that I, together with the rest of the Filipino Artists Community, am experiencing now. I don't want them to lose faith in the arts and be disillusioned the way a lot of my peers are, right now. I want them to become real "artists"-- those whose works are propelled by life and not by politics. I don't want them to be part of the dreadfully shameful system that they are starting to create.
Please, God. Please.
Are we ok?
Happy birthday, Ricky! Thank you for everything.
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.
I bumped into an old friend as I was walking the busy streets of Central. (My dear, friend, if you are reading this, know that this is not about you, ok? You were just a catalyst. It's a general observation, and you were just a catalyst. So don't feel bad.)
"Hey! I saw you last Saturday. In the afternoon. You were walking out of a clinic in Tung Chung. I was calling you, but you were walking fast to the train station," he said with much eagerness.
"Oh yeah, I had just finished my dental appointment then," I affirmed.
"I see. So what's new with you?" he asked with as much eagerness.
"Well..."
"Besides the dentist," he said, either trying to be funny, or trying to prove he was paying attention, or both.
"Well, besides the dentist, I went for a facial and a haircut on Thursday, and... Oh! And I've already stopped smoking. So... What's new with me? I have clean teeth, clear skin, freshly-groomed hair, and carbon monoxide-free lungs. That's what's new with me."
"Alright. Well, it was great seeing you. Have to go. Bye!" He said immediately, and turned away. He probably realized I am a changed person. At that very moment, he probably wondered: Where did the old Rye go?
"Alright. Bye!" I said, and, as he turned away. I realized there really wasn't anything in everything that I said that he was interested in. And at that very moment, I wondered: "What exactly do people wanna know when they ask what's new?"
The angel came down from heaven and said to me, "Haven't you been wanting this for four years now? What's stopping you? Just do it. Take it. Go!"
And so I did.
Dan, get your appetite ready. It's war-in-the-kitchen time once again!
Because of a terrible migraine attack that disrupted my life this afternoon, I went for a medical check-up early tonight. Such episode paved the way for a couple of first's in my recent medical history.
First, it was the first time for me to go for a private doctor, post-Disney. Since I left Disney--- since I surrendered my AIA health card, as a matter of fact--- I worked so hard at keeping myself healthy so that I didn't have to pay $240.00 only to be told that I needed to rest and take some medication, which I could obtain OTC anyway.
Second, it was the first time for me to visit an unfamiliar doctor. Ok, so maybe Dr. L had, to a certain extent, a somewhat shady personality. But he was familiar and comfortable. He knew my medical history, and it just was oh-so-convenient to know that I didn't have to relay everything there was to know about my body everytime I went for a check-up. Unfortunately, Dr. L had moved to a different clinic already. I didn't have any choice but to succumb to the mercy of another medical practitioner.
Third, this was my first migraine attack in so long. The last time I had it, if memory serves, was in summer of 2007.
Fourth, and most importantly, this was the first time I had a very useful realization about my medical analysis. "Dr. New" said that my migraine was caused by heat, and the extreme brightness of the sun. I knew that for a fact. He said that to prevent it, I need to stay in enclosed spaces as much as I could. Knew that too. If, and only if, at any case, I need to subject myself to the scorching heat of the sun, I need to protect myself with an umbrella (for the heat) and a pair of sunnies (for the brightness). I knew those too, and I've been practicing them.
That's where it all made a difference. The question was: if I was practicing those preventive measures, why then did I not see a migraine attack coming, and how was I not able to prevent it from happening?
The answer was utterly sophomoric: Because my Burberry sunnies are dated, out-of-season, weary, have become incapable of fulfilling their duties. So... in the iterest of preserving my own health, allow me to say, "Tom Ford Andre, see you very, very soon!"
