Monday, May 28, 2007
Gold Star?
Today I noticed that my friend Charm's blog title has been changed from "My Fridge" to "Gold Star." I was going to ask her myself (but I'm sure that she will comment to this post anyway) if she was a Gold Star, and if she was then I would tell her that that's something to be admired.
A Gold Star is a gay person who has never had sex with the opposite sex. At least that's how Jennifer Beals' character Bette in The L Word defined it in Season Three. Since then, I've asked friends and acquaintances alike if they were goldstars, and if they were if it was by choice or by circumstance. Most of them say no, quite a few say yes, and one person actually said, "Yes, until last month when I got drunk and thought I'd finally try it with a guy." That response got the crowd going, of course, as it is quite unusual for a (straight-looking) lesbian to not have explored her heterosexual side until her mid-thirties.
Most goldstars I know never had a doubt in their minds that they were gay, and actually found the thought of heterosexual sex revolting. I'm not sure if Charm falls into this category, even if (like myself) she did go to an all-girls Catholic high school. Haha! I always envy goldstars for never second-guessing themselves, but then like the woman I mentioned above, a number of them actually second-guess themselves as grownups and either regret it, or become thrust into a state of adult-onset confusion.
(As a side note to this discussion, when I asked a group of women if they were gold stars, a heterosexual woman in the group asked, "I'm straight, and I've never had sex with the same sex. Does that make me a goldstar too?" I laught and said, "No. That just makes you straight!" Haha!)
I'm not a goldstar, and even if many times I wish I were one, I doubt I would ever be sure of myself if I didn't try both avenues. But that's just me, experiencing my life as it comes. I was always a boyish child who hated dolls, playing house, and all the things girls do. I loved my brother's large steel yellow Tonka truck, his construction sets, his remote control cars. I was the only girl on the soccer team, and my homeroom teacher told me that I should stop playing soccer because I would get dark, grow muscles, and no boy would ever like me. Such was the littany coming from my adult influences, that if I didn't start acting like a lady, I would never get a man. I took that as a challenge at said that I will get a man (many men, actually) even if I'm not quite the lady. And so I did, one after the other, and became known as the girl who"changed boyfriends like she changed clothes," and wondered what the big f*in' deal was with boys.
Until I met a girl, and everything fell into place. All passion, attraction and respect that I never had for the opposite sex, I felt for each woman I've ever loved. "This is it," I thought. This is what's been missing all along.
And then there was no looking back. :o)
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Korean Beef Stew
I found this recipe at http://pinoycook.net, and tweaked it a little to suit my taste. I've always wanted to make this dish because I have fond memories of sucking the bones dry and drinking the sauce from the bowl at the Kimchi Korean Fast Food in Manila. And because I have yet to pay my home country a visit, I just cook (and eat) like I were home, and live vicarously through our meals.
2 lbs stewing beef with bones, short ribs, flanken, or neck bones
1 head garlic, peeled
1 head onion, peeled
1 large piece of ginger, about the size of an egg, peeled and sliced
3 korean green chili peppers
2 bay leaves
3/4 cup soy sauce
3/4 cup white sugar
5 scallion stalks, chopped
1-2 tablespoons sesame seeds
Place the beef in a casserole and fill with water until beef is covered. Add garlic, onion, ginger, chilipeppers and bay leaf, soy sauce and sugar. Simmer for two hours or until meat is tender.
Roast sesame seeds in a hot pot. Top stew with seeds and scallions.
Mangia!
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Thoughts at 4 AM
If I had my way, I would be asleep on a deserted beach somewhere tropical, where it would remind me of childhood summers on the shore of Lingayen Gulf.
The wind would be warm and the sand would be soft and hot. I would take naps on a beach towel and fall asleep to the sound of the water. At lunchtime we would eat rice and adobo with our hands and Papa would take the plates and show us how to "wash" them as he scrubbed them with saltwater and sand.
I would spend the afternoon in the water, floating like a cadaver, letting the waves take me to the shore. There I would squat on the sand and dig with my hands for tiny clams. I would line them up and watch them open their shells slightly and wiggle their way back into the water. I would dig a big hole, fill it with water, lay in it and call it my bathtub.
Being so far away from home makes me long for that feeling of peace I always have in the water. Once every few years I do find a beach that's warm and close enough to what I'm accustomed to, but I always end up closing my eyes and thinking of the patterns the seaweed makes with the jellfish washed out on the sand. Just like that, I find it, the smell of the salt and the small fish leftover by the fishing village after they pulled their long nets to shore. Everybody is scrambling to gather the catch of the day, throwing out weeds, rocks and garbage. They look at me, smile, and a child hands me a fish to take home.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Meatloaf
1-1/2 pounds ground beef (or veal, if you have the heart for it)
1 cup V8 hot and spicy tomato juice
3/4 cup rolled oats
1 egg
1/4 cup chopped onion
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 ground black pepper
3-4 strips bacon, uncooked
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl combine meat, tomato juice, oats, egg, chopped onion, salt and pepper. Mix lightly but thoroughly. Press into an 8x4 inch loaf pan. Top with bacon strips. Bake for 1 hour, or until meat is no longer pink and juices run clear. Drain. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.
* This is supposed to be a good stand-alone recipe, but I tweaked it and added 3 tablespoons of Goya bottled sofrito (from the ethnic section of the grocery) and lots of tabasco into the mixture. I like taste-testing these recipes before cooking by microwaving a dollop of the mixture into a saucer and nuking it for 30 seconds or so. I served it with Filipino spaghetti and it was great, otherwise I would have used a glaze on top by mixing ketchup, brown sugar and lemon juice.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Rant
Not to be disrespectful to my English-only visitors, but I feel that for my sanity I must release this anger in my native language (oh, and I guess it's also less incriminating unless you can easily get a hold of a translator). Forgive me:
Putangina ninyong lahat na walang ginawa kundi hanapan ako ng mali dahil iba ako sa inyo. Siguro kinabahan na kayo nung unang araw ko pa lang dahil tahimik lang ako at nakikinig, walang imik. Akala nyo siguro tahimik din ang utak ko, or siguro akala nyo isang araw kukuha na lang ako ng baril ang pasasabugin ko ang mga utak ninyo. Siguro hindi pa kayo nakakakita o nakakakilala ng taong may kulay, na lumaki sa ibang bansa at sanay sa ibang kultura at wika. Ang pinakamalaking pagkakamali ninyo ay ang pagaakalang dahil hindi tayo magkatulad, hindi ko kayo maintindihan. Putangina nyo ring lahat ng kliyenteng nakilala ko itong nakaraang sampung araw na mataas ang ihi, ni hindi pa bumubuka ang bibig ko e kung tratuhin ninyo ako ay parang tagalinis nyo 'ko ng bahay. Akala ko nung una ay mabibili ng pera ang aking kaligayahan at dignidad. Mabuti na lang at naranasan ko ang impyerno nitong huling sampung araw. Ngayon alam ko na tama akong iwasan ang mga tulad ninyo tulad ng ginawa ko itong nakaraang limang taon. Ang masasabi ko lang sa inyong lahat ay PUKI NG INA NINYONG LAHAT! MGA HINDOT! ANG CHA-CHAKA NYO NAMAN, WALA KAYONG-K!!! LECHE!!!!
That kinda felt good, I guess. Of course while I was writing that I learned that fate was really on my side through all of this. I am a little disappointed though that while writing that outburst in Filipino, I realized that structurally my sentences are in English and I was just subconsciously translating them into Filipino. It takes me about an hour of speaking the language to actually "think" in the language. Sigh. I miss babbling in Filipino gayspeak...
Trying to Fit a Square Peg into a Round Hole
Circumstances couldn't be more fated. After 10 days, I had to accept the fact that the new job was not for me, even if my significant other knew it from Day 1. Stubbornly devoted as I have always been, I couldn't stand turning my back on an idea until I gave it my 100% and realized in due time that all my efforts were in vain as it was (so aptly put) trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It was never a good fit. Or, I never even made it in! So here I am, brushing the dust off myself and checking for injuries, a little downhearted but still hopeful. It's a great lesson in compatibility.
(Not to worry, dear friends, I already have another job on the table. Alam mo naman tayo - pinipilahan. All I can say is, "Next!")
My only consolation is that this experience will make a fabulous story. Isn't that the main reason we even live? At least it's mine. And Libay's. :o)
In other developments, I am pleased to learn that the all-grown-up Charm has finally made the move to sunny California. Welcome to the rest of your life, honey! It's nice to have another homegrown friend just a phone call away.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Short Ribs in Reduced Red Wine and Dijon
It was lovely to have the day off on a Friday. I've always said that it's such a great feeling to be off when the rest of the city is at work. Aside from having the sunny sidewalks to oneself, errands are so easily run because laundromats, libraries, post offices, and grocery stores are all empty. I enjoyed lunch with a former colleague who regaled me with stories of how the old practice was falling apart at its seams, and how they do miss me. Sigh. Sucks for them!
In any case I did have enough time to search for a good recipe for the left over Korean-cut beef shortribs that were left over from my last batch of kalbi. Epicurious always has the answers, and so now I am sharing with you a secret recipe that is so simple but tastes so complex: the recipe's description says "It taste like it took days and hundreds of ingredients to make it." Mangia!
Short Ribs in Red Wine and Dijon
4 cups (1 bottle) dry red wine - the cheapest one will do
4 lbs beef short ribs (also called flanken)
10 shallots, peeled, trimmed and halved if large
3 tablespoons coarse-grain Dijon mustard
6 plum tomatoes, halved lengthwise.
Boil wine and reduce it to about 1-1/2 cups. While wine is reducing, season beef and brown in a dry heavy pot over high heat. Transfer into a bowl, leaving fat and juices in pot. Brown shallots in fat over medium heat and transfer using slotted spoon into another bowl. Stir wine and mustard into the juices in the pot. Add ribs and simmer covered for about 90 minutes. Gently stir in shallots and tomatoes and continue to simmer, covered until meat is very tender, about another 30 minutes. Season with salt and pepper if needed.
This dish is lovely served over a plate of penne, ziti, or pasta of your choice. Enjoy!
Consolation, and the etymology of "eavesdrop"
The only consolation is that I met this housekeeper at the new practice's waiting area. That afternoon she was this West Highland Terrier's guardian as she brought this dog in for its dermatologist appointment in behalf of her employer, some presumably nutty rich lady who put her in a car with a chauffeur to drive this "master" dog to its doctor. I recognized the familiarly seasoned and sun-damaged face and strong accent, and so when I had a moment I asked her if she was Filipino. Pilipino po kayo, Manang? I wanted to sound respectful and friendly so I called her Manang, which translates to big sister, or old lady. She said she was from the province called Cabanatuan, I said I was from Manila. It was so great to speak my language at work that I volunteered to talk to her if they needed to explain anything to her because we spoke the same language. They rolled their eyes as if to say yeah, okay, so you can communicate with housekeepers, so? Whatever.
I lingered around the front desk eavesdropping on her conversation in Tagalog over the phone, talking about someone getting a job somewhere in Manhattan. I wanted to sit there and bask in the comfort of my language, and how just hearing it in this foreign and cold environment brings me back home to where I'm not different, where what comes out of my mouth is exactly what I wanted to say. And not some semblance of a thought that has been destroyed and raped in translation. Like puki ng ina niyong lahat!
eavesdrop (etymology): from a noun that originally pointed to a person who stands in the eavesdrop of a house in order to hear what is being spoken inside. The eavesdrop (or eavesdrip) of a house is that area beneath the overhang of the roof (eave) where water drips like so many words from someone's lips.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Antartica
It is taking the longest time for my new co-workers to warm up to me. I'm not looking for friends at all but on Friday, after two weeks at my new office, I finally got asked my first personal question:
"What kind of dog do you have?"
I thought that was kind of sad. And then it was followed by this strange conversation:
"Hey, what's your background?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, your background?"
"Do you mean my ethnicity? Or if I'm an ex-con?"
"Yes your ethnicity."
"Filipino."
"Oh okay. I just want to know which jokes I can make and which ones I can't."
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
No Longer the Queen Bee
A week after starting my new job in Manhattan, I realized that I was no longer The Queen Bee. While it was a great comfort to not be pulled in different directions as I was in my previous job for 4.5 years, it felt a little disconcerting to not be utilized to my full potential. Maybe in time things will change as my new organization realizes the extent of my skills, but my restless heart wishes that time to be short. Be careful what you wish for, they always say. I did wish for something easy, but just because I was burning out. It's enlightening to discover that I am actually one of those innately motivated people who can't just stand around and do nothing, no matter how much I get paid. Nakakabobo, I would say in Filipino. Or maybe four days isn't enough time to get to know someone (or something) at all.
I thought I was being so pessimistic, but you know what? I spent a day at another facility at the end of the week and was very optimistic. Am I just reading too much or too little into things? Only time will tell...
The best part is that I overcame my phobia of driving and drove for about an hour both ways from that Friday job. There I was behind the wheel by myself, mumbling "This can't be that hard," palms and feet cold, armpits and ass sweating, heart pounding in my chest. I decided against parking in their lot for fear of inconveniencing their clientelle, or embarasssing myself. But with my luck of course, as I was taking forever to parallel park, my new boss tapped on the window and said, "Is that you?" I said something about not liking driving very much, as if it wasn't obvious on my stressed and sweaty face. My only consolation was that she thought I drove a nice car, and that conversation actually led to more interesting ones which, if we're lucky, will lead to weekends by the beach in Fire Island.
Wish me luck.
