Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Day Nine: Holy Brooklyn Discoveries!
Someone
(Words: Mila Drumke; Music: Mila Drumke and Jennifer Sharpe)
The phone will ring or the phone won't ring.
I'm gonna sit here either way and pretend
I don't miss anything about you. I could spend
half of my life wondering why everything that
means the most I let fly from my shoulder.
I let it go.
Show me a window I can see sky from. Show
me a door I haven't closed before. Show me a
stairwell I haven't run from. Show me someone
I can hold onto.
Well it's not solid ground but I've put my feet
down again, walk around a block where the
wind won't stop and I call this home. And I
settle in some way, sink in, pass away time,
and the line that I've fallen into is nothing new
to me.
I was very excited to receive my CD in the mail this afternoon, only to find out from the album cover that the artist Mila Drumke actually lives (or holds office) two blocks from my house. Oh my gawd! We've probably bumped into each other at the Korean Deli, at Key Food, or something. That's a very odd and creepy discovery, if you ask me. Anyway, if you are interested in the sound file of the song, feel free to contact me. If you just want to hear it, check it out at the band's MySpace page.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Day Eight: Now Na Mode
Sometimes it takes someone from 7295 miles away to tell you the truth about yourself. I caught my dear friend Libay online and had one of those long conversations we used to have in Manila, in the late 90s to the early 2000s, over beer, sisig, tequila or narcotic of choice.
I met her many years ago in Quezon City, and she has seen me through lovers, happiness, sadness, fulfillment and loss. She is one of those few people I can spend a year without contact with but still start right back where we left off, each conversation more meaningful than the last.
Last year, as a testimonial for one of those My-Space-Friendster thingies, she wrote:
it's rare to meet beautiful people with unique souls who befriend you and become your friend, too -- a real friend. i see you that way.
i'm glad you're one of my kindred spirits, mare. i miss the old days of just hanging out and talking about life while having fun with it, too. but i'm glad you're having the time of your life right now, under the coolest of circumstances. miss you, too, girl. take care.
I feel exactly the same way. Today we discussed life, love and relationships, and I realize that talking to her reminded me of who I was (as she had come to know me), as a friend, a lover, and a person. I am very thankful to her for that, and grateful that whatever happens in this adventure we call life, I can always run to her and she will always be supportive, caring, non-judgemental, and that she will sit me down and tell me how brilliant and strong I am, even if I refuse to admit it.
Thanks, Bay-Li, for this long talk. It really meant a lot to me. I owe you one, whether it be in New York or on a beautiful shore sitting with our toes splashing puddles of saltwater in Palawan, we will have a real-life hug. Sagot kita!
Salamat, Mare.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Day Seven: Photophobia
I feel like this without you here, like I want to hide from the world, from voices, from light. I cover myself with blankets, stand behind walls, wear disguises, don masks.
I wake up in the middle of the night carefully and quietly tossing and turning because I am forgetting you are not beside me and shall not be awakened by my restlessness. I stay on my side of the bed, facing the wall and pillows behind me, pretending you are there smothering me and nearly pushing me off the bed.
I stay up late to exhaust myself, in both physical and emotional hunger I drown myself and my sleeplessness in whatever spirit in some cold glass, and even colder are my hands chafed by the reluctant winter. And finally, I drag myself onto the icy bed, find pathetic solace in the sheets and cover my face with your bedclothes so I can smell the scent of your nape and your bedhead.
You are a piece of the puzzle, and I am perpetually unsolved without you. You are the divisor, I am the dividend: no matter how hard I substract and bring down, I am always back again. You are the next step, and I'm dragging my heels hoping that I might trip and fall and wake up from this frightful dream of being without you.
Without you I am cracked open like an egg off a wall -- all the king's horses and all the king's men cannot put me back together again.
(Fourteen more freakin' days to go.)
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Show Me A Window
I was totally bored out of my mind this afternoon after a nap and a couple of games of online scrabble , that I decided to watch Go Fish, which I ordered in December for posterity's sake (see this post) but never got the chance to view. It was released in 1994, and watching it present day reminded me of how it was -- no cellphones, no internet, bushy eyebrows, grungy fashion, and cassette tapes! Guinevere Turner was still pre-Hollywood, pre-L-word, meaning that she wasn't so skinny and her eyebrows needed a little sculpting, but still totally hot. I liked the film because it wasn't mainstream at all. I thought it was a very good representation of the lesbian community at that time. It's funny, if you read reviews of the film on Amazon, a lot of guys were disappointed because the DVD cover made them expect to see hot lesbian action. Instead they saw dykes. Hahaw!
What was creepy was that one of the main character's names was the same as mine, and hearing it spoken over and over in a film was a little unnerving. I still remember watching this movie in my early twenties (at the height of my new sexual awareness), and when I saw it again it brought back that same love and passion I had for women and being a big f*in' dyke!
Still loved the song playing in the background during the pivotal sex scene, but I can't seem to find it anywhere. Is it a sign of its time, since the movie was made before websites and Google, nobody ever wrote down the lyrics of the song and posted it online? Oh well, I know that one of these days someone is going to do the same Google search I did, and they will find this:
Show me a window
to see sky from
Show me a door
I haven't closed before
Show me a stairwell
I haven't run from
Show me someone
I can hold
on to
(Artist unkown, the rest of the lyrics unknown. If anybody has any clue, speak!)
In any case, I am sending the DVD to my dear friends in Tokyo, specifically Dre who is both an old flame and a best buddy, because we saw it several times together. If anybody else wants a copy, give me a holler and I'd gladly oblige.
Day Six: Tikka Masala and Then Some
I've gotten tired of eating out (or eating not) all week that I decided to stay in today and cook. We discovered this great tikka masala sauce sold at Costco in big tubs. I'm assuming you can find it in any ethnic food or Indian store, but Maya Kaimal's Tikka Masala sauce is the cat's meow. All you have to do is take a whiff of the stuff and you know it's good. Very nice! Jagshemesh!
I came up with my own chicken tikka masala while at the house upstate. We usually just lug whatever is in the freezer and make it up as we go along. This trip, I grabbed the tub of tikka and decided to make it for dinner. I don't know if it's anything close to the real thing, perhaps it's a little bit Philippinized, but I think it's awesome!
I'm writing this while my dish is simmering in the pot. The aroma has filled the entire house and it smells like an Indian restaurant. All I need right now is a Mango Lassi and I'll be all set. Of course, I'm cheating by using a ready-made sauce but hell, let's be Machiavellian for just one sec, it's Sunday after all, for crying out loud. Enjoy this:
Quick Chicken Tikka Masala
1 chicken breast, deboned and cubed
2 tomatoes, cut lengthwise into quarters
1 onion, chopped
2-3 medium-sized carrots, cut into 1 inch pieces
1 large potato, cubed
2 cups Maya Kaimal Tikka Masala sauce
salt and pepper to taste
Sautee onion in a pinch of salt. Add chicken and tomatoes and let simmer for five minutes. Add tikka masala sauce and let simmer for 15 minutes. Add carrots and potato, let cook until tender. Add salt and peper to taste. Personally I like adding cayenne pepper or red pepper flakes for some kick, but that's just me: also addicted to the spice of life.
Mangia!
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Day Five: Far From The Black Widow
Lakas tira, lakas asa! (Hit hard, pray hard!)
We used to heckle each other with that line back in the day when we used to play pool at a dilapidated and dusty billiard hall in Quezon City. The Wonder Twins Ivan and Dre were the best players of course, they always headed all pool and bowling games. I guess they owe it to their delinquent teenage years. That, or the amphetamines. :o)
I never really learned the game as I have always been convinced that I cannot play any game or sport that requires any kind of grace or follow-through, thus my lack of skill at tennis, volleyball and golf. An ex taught me how to hold the stick one day, and although I was far from being the Black Widow, I managed to learn the game but not quite excel in it.
My favorite memory of the sport is at Fridays Resort in Boracay, Philippines, where the wife and I took our first trip (long ago, and oh so very far away) when we first hooked up. We were playing pool in our bikinis as onlookers gawked. I think I beat her, too. :-p
I was inspired by my game last night at Brownstone Billiards (Flatbush between 7th and Sterling), that I decided to hang out and practice while waiting for my co-workers to get out of work and join me. I ended up playing by myself, which might worry a few since it isn't the fanciest of places, but they are renovating and I think it's gonna look better. If only I can get the wife to play a game with me...
I was in a great mood after my haircut and dimsum at Mott Street. Dimsum is always a treat for me, but because I like it more than anybody else I know, I end up eating by myself sometimes (which seems to be unheard of in this huge city, as far as dimsum is concerned, as it is supposed to be an inevitably social endeavor), which I really don't mind at all. More for me!
I don't know if I'll be able to keep up the pool playing, though. Somehow it has such devious connotations. It's also hard to find a pool hall you really feel comfortable in. The coolest ones are in bars, and there is usually only one table. Even if you do get the chance to play, people waiting just shake their heads in disappointment when you suck, because you're just wasting their time. I guess they wouldn't if I wore my haltertop, but that's another story for another day.
Day Four: Overexposure and Badass Boots
I've always wanted badass boots, ever since Tam got hers in the mail, I say, two years ago? Last weekend, at Century 21 Long Island, while the wife was shopping for her family for her trip to Manila, I found this pair hanging out in the men's section (of course, diesel-dyke-wannabe that I am), and fell in love. Just had to get it, and the price was just right. Excellent! My first Miu-Mius and they were very cheap!
So I wore them tonight just to show off, while my co-worker Stephanie and I decided to leave another co-worker's drama and set off on our own, to Brownstone Billiards on Flatbush and 7th avenue, to play two games of pool. After sinking the 8-ball eight times, we decided to have dinner at Olive Vine on 7th. We shared a spinach pie, she had the chicken platter and I had the falafel platter over unsweetened iced tea. Yum!
As I dragged myself home, the wife asked me to get a phone card and call her while she was relaxing at one of our friends-in-high-places' crib in Makati City, the business district of the Philippines. I gladly obliged, after all, I hadn't spoken to the warm-and-fuzzy in almost a week! Stories, stories, stories, she's been hanging out with my sis (the only sib still in Manila), who is her age and shares the same posse, having a blast. I was so happy I decided to take an overexposed photo of myself with my pathetic Treo 600 camera. Sigh. Definitely need to upgrade this phone. Calling all kindred souls, please make all donations to: Cheap Girl's Treo 680 Fund, Brooklyn, New York.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Day Three: Great Danes and Supersaturation
This morning, a 150-pound Great Dane put his six-inch-diameter paws on the front desk to say hello. From experience I've learned that Great Danes have very pleasant and cuddly personalities. They're dopey and sweet, and very huggable. And so during the physical exam, I did not expect this pony-sized canine to jump off the table, taking my 140-lb self with him. Nice as I am, I even tried to break his fall by hanging on to him so that his legs would not break. I did not realize that he took this as a threat as he suddenly grabbed my arm with his huge mouth as the room screamed for my safety. I quickly assumed a submissive position by standing with arms on my chest and facing the wall. He growled and tried to jump on me, at which point I was ordered to leave the room to pacify the situation. I escaped with a few bruises on my arm, and fans - don't worry, this is all in a day's work.
And then came the chemistry refresher, as I had to compute the dosage of potassium bromide powder (siezure medication) for a 98 lb dog, and then make a solution with water, then compute the saturation point of KBr. It was a little tricky, and while there was the temptation to supersaturate the solution instead, I came up with the supersaturation point of KBr by slowly titrating the solution until it completely dissolved. "Eureka!" I explained to my understudy, as I ran to note down the saturation point of KBr as 1 gram in 1.6 mLs.
I don't care what you say: DORKS ARE SEXY!
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Day Two: Shrimp Two Ways
On Monday, I made a Thai shrimp salad for dinner. It was a recipe I got from my sister's nanny, who was for a long time the nanny of a prominent Filipino family. During one of this family's trips to the U.S., she asked to be left behind and, being that all their children were grown, the parents agreed, and thus was the beginning of Yaya ("nanny," in Filipino) Phoebe's saga as an illegal alien.
Yaya Phoebe worked for several families in California and became familiar with many different cuisines. I sampled her shrimp salad at my sister's house one time and was truly impressed. And so I took down the recipe on my Treo and it has been with me ever since.
Monday's guests were pre-occupied with the wife's nilaga (a Filipino beef and ginger soup/stew), to notice the shrimp. I have to admit that it was a little undercooked, but I guess that's better than being overcooked, right? It was a long evening and the wife had to pack, so I dumped the remainder into a container and put it in the fridge, almost certain it would be forgotten.
I had an epiphany this morning and decided, just for shits and giggles, to dump the salad into a pot and let it simmer while I showered. When I got out of the bathroom, I was met by a delicious aroma around the house. Perhaps the smell of shrimp cooking came too early at seven a.m., but I brought the dish with me to work and discovered that it was quite flavorful, somewhat like sinigang (Filipino tamarind broth dish), but more in the Tom Yum category.
And so, with my pleasure, I now present this dish, which can be served cold and then hot, depending on how popular it is the night before. It's always been a crowd favorite for me, but you be the judge.
Yaya Phoebe's Thai Shrimp Salad
1 lb small to medium sized shrimp
3 lemons
3 tbsp sugar
5 cloves garlic, crushed and chopped
2 tbsp chopped onion
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
1 bunch scallion, finely chopped
1 hot pepper of your choice, chopped
3 tbsp fish sauce (Filipino, use more if using Thai fish sauce)
dried red pepper flakes
Lightly cook the shrimp by letting them sit in boiling water for about 3 minutes.
In a bowl, mix together garlic, sugar, fish sauce, lemon juice, onion, and chopped pepper. Add shrimp and mix well. Add cilantro and scallions and toss. Allow to sit at least 30 minutes in refrigerator. Top with red pepper flakes before serving.
Mangia!
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Day One
Drowning in the silence of
solitude, I,
with aching chest
and hesitant breath,
dream of the innocence
of Maamo street,
where the heavy rain
on your overnight bag
evoked laughter,
reluctance,
and uncertainty.
The tiled floor,
the cat hair,
the eager vacuum cleaner.
They were audiences to
the song of our birth
and
the economical air-conditioner.
Perhaps,
on that afternoon on EDSA
in your father's Civic,
we marked our beginning.
Maybe,
on the couch in Sikatuna,
my breath on your neck
sealed our fate.
But in the Autumn
at Bergen and 6th
my world turned undulate.
(I'm still astonished and at peace
at the tales we emanate.)
Wii!! I got my Mii!!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Dinner for Four
We had dinner at the infamous Tabla (11 Madison Ave. and 25th) to celebrate our favorite couple Emiko and Sue's 8th year anniversary, among other things. We also decided since Christmas 2005 that we would stop giving each other presents and instead treat ourselves to a fancy dinner. And so after a reservation made well in advance, we ended up meeting up at the restaurant on the coldest day this winter ("About time" is all I'm sayin') for our seven o' clock reservation.
I had come from work, leaving early to ensure adequate time to walk the dog and get dressed, while the wife was already at a bar with fellow alky Emiko. By the time they got to Tabla, their eyes were glassy and they were totally buzzed on martinis and Chimay. We chose the Winter Tasting Menu, which was a five course meal (all seafood, save for the duck and foie gras), a bottle of zinfandel and a bottle of sauvignon blanc, that left us bloated and walking away from the famed restaurant for good.
The food was satisfactory, and actually quite tasty. However the tasting menu was probably too much of different kinds of food with strong flavors. I liked the tuna tartare, the bass and the lobster. I also discovered that foie gras is the only kind of liver I'd ever eat (sadly its decadence and animal rights violations would probably make its ingestion self-limiting). The duck was blah, the dessert was ho-hum, and I wasn't really impressed with anything else.
One thing. It's a good thing that I didn't know it was supposed to be "Indian Fusion," otherwise I would have steered clear of it, as I usually do with anything that is called "Asian Fusion." In New York City cuisine, so far, "fusion" has become synonymous to "distorting the original cuisine by creating a semblance of a dish, serving it in tiny portions in big plates and drizzling decorative sauce all around." As with Asian Fusion, kindly give me the original, unapologetic, messy large portions anytime.
I'm not a very big fan of fancy restaurants as very few actually make an impression on me. I'm all for no-holds-barred family-style eating in holes-in-the-wall places such as places in Chinatown. I've begun appreciating the slow progression of multiple course meals served over wine and conversation, yet regretfully haven't been in many restaurants that actually live up to their reputation.
This is my all-time favorite:
Convivium Osteria (68 5th avenue between Bergen & St. Marks, Brooklyn)
The best lambchops I've ever had, and may I just die for their mussels (must call
in advance for mussels)
I highly recommend it.
Peace out!
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
It's Cultural: Maritess and the Superfriends
I remember finding this hilarious in 2001. Not everybody gets it, you would have to have grown up in Manila to appreciate the American-Filipino cultural dynamic. You be the judge.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Two Years of RelinqWish @ Blogger
Well, it is true that RelinqWish has been around for more than two years, back in the day when there was a lot of time for amateur coding at Tripod. Then there wasn't, so the Tripod blog died, until RelinqWish was resurrected in the Winter of 2004, when the wife was away for three weeks in Manila and I was left to entertain myself.
It's (hardly) the Winter of 2007, and again the Mrs. is flying to Manila for another three week vacation. I'm both sad and worried at the bad timing, it's such a fragile time in our relationship, but as adults trying to keep a life and home together we need to just deal.
I already know how it goes. The first week will be filled with anger. In 2004 I spent the first weekend at the Natural History Museum, dorking out at the exhibits and trying to amuse myself. Later on that day I was furious that I was walking those steps by my lonesome, why couldn't I share the Homo erectus model with my personal homo erection? (Sorry I couldn't resist the pun.)
After the anger subsided, the second week was spent entertaining myself. Writing, watching movies, reviving my porn addiction, blah blah blah. The third week, I became completely bored with myself and began to self-destruct. And then she came back.
I wonder if it will be the same this year, considering all that we are dealing with. I'm fearful but because I have no choice but to continue life as I know it, for my own sanity, I came up with a list of things I like to do (and will do) when I am left alone next week.
1. dimsum @ mott st.
2. dimsum @ sunset park followed by 3.
3. grocery shopping at the asian food mart
4. vietnamese @ nha trang
5. noodle soup at wonton garden (new obsession)
6. scrub kitchen floor
7. recaulk bathroom tub
8. take dog to the park
9. watch "Young Sluts" and "Squirming Germans" over and over
10. (attempt to) work out
11. take long slow walks home from work
12. go to my discount stores
13. cook a complicated filipino dish
14. write
15. write
16. write
17. (coming soon)
I thought so...
What kind of sex are you?
Yeah, it sucks that one of them is a man, but at least he kinda looks like he has breasts! :o)
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Love and Real Estate
(Re)Building
That is the title of Alexandra Hedison's website, dedicated to her photography which captures the beauty of mundane images in construction. I thought of that while coming up with this entry, which is an end result of last night's discussion.
"It's so tempting to just start something new."
"You mean start something new from scratch?"
"It seems so much easier."
"That's just too easy. As in real estate, new constructions are always nice, but aren't we always attracted to converted buildings? The Toy Factory Lofts, The Kent (which was an old garment factory). It's much more work but you see the detail of its past life. It has so much more character."
Who knew we could equate love and relationships with real estate? If you've spent enough time looking at housing, buying or selling real estate (as we have for the past two years), you learn to appreciate the character buildings have. There are well-built buildings which are nice, but...blah...no character whatsoever. The most special ones are those which boast of another world and another time, where you could still imagine garment workers or toy makers working with their hands.
Flashback 2000. An old lover and I took the crash course on scuba diving in Coron, Palawan, Philippines. The reefs were amazing sights, but the shipwrecks were even more stunning. Cement mixers, cement bags, china, silverware, tanks and canons were inside the ships. It was easy to imagine sailors running through the halls.
Surely the remains of the day are better fodder for the romantic and lonely-hearted. It is so much easier to create something out of nothing than to build something out of a really big mess. All it takes is a lot of effort and endless work, I guess.
Only if you're up for that. And yes, that is a threat. :o)
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Picture Me
This is how I see myself sometimes. I know that I cannot even touch Kate Moennig's looks, but when I think about myself, I picture myself as this androgynous, skinny and lanky girl who seems to be immersed in deep thought. A far cry from my actual photos where I have a nice smile and bright, happy eyes, huh?
I guess that can be an advantage, when you are seldom viewed as a sad and dark person. I've always been told that I have such an innocent face, that a cigarette never looked good on me, much less an alcoholic beverage. It's funny because I know that vice becomes me, no matter where I run one of my addictions seems to crop up from nowhere and haunt me from time to time.
This week has been a good one, for whatever it's worth. I walked into work on Monday being a total mess and got an overwhelming show of support, plus a hug from my boss. Friends have crawled out of the woodwork to wish me well, even without a clue of what I'm going through. I guess it is difficult to be a dark and cold person when there are so many people trying to make me smile.
Thank you.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Laundry List
It's been too much of "I wanted to...," or "I was going to..." and "I should have..." that I decided this afternoon to walk out of my job AND JUST DO IT. So I went home and made dinner.
While waiting for my beef to stew, I came up with a laundry list of what was wrong with me. Five-zero and counting...
1) I am a mess.
2) I have a terribly addictive personality.
3) I have a predisposition to substance abuse.
4) If nobody was watching, I'd probably end up smelly.
5) I am afraid of failing.
6) I am terrified of disappointing people who love me.
7) I am a Gemini, and I am night and day.
8) I don't know shit about life even if I say I do.
9) I'm an old soul, but with a young heart.
10) I have nightmares about driving, and I hate being behind the wheel.
11) I have a bad temper.
12) I'm not as strong as I think I am.
13) I can cheat.
14) I can lie.
15) I've done both without blinking.
16) I don't have everything together.
17) If left alone, I could self-destruct in a few days.
18) I am self-righteous.
19) I can be judgemental.
20) I can be critical of people.
21) I am not easily amused.
22) I always feel fat.
23) I am insecure.
24) I am intrinsically unhappy.
25) I am completely self-critical and self-loathing.
26) I would dress like a homeless person if left to my own devices.
27) I am cynical.
28) I am jaded.
29) I have never seen a happy marriage.
30) I wear bad shoes.
31) I don't care about wearing bad shoes.
32) I would steal if I could get away with it.
33) I have the attention span of a flea.
34) I don't care much about a lot of people.
35) I don't trust anybody.
36) Nobody should trust me.
37) I cry too easily.
38) I cry for all the wrong things.
39) I defy authority.
40) I need authority.
41) I am passive-aggressive.
42) I am horribly clumsy.
43) I am always the victim.
44) I am always guilty.
45) I bite my nails.
46) I sucked my thumb until 4th grade.
47) I pick my scabs.
48) I hate with a mission.
49) I burn bridges.
50) I keep grudges.
I am totally flawed and absolutely unworthy. Feel free to unlove me.
Young lovers seek perfection. Old lovers learn the art of sewing shreds together and of seeing beauty in a multiplicity of patches. (How To Make an American Quilt)
