Therapeutic Rendezvous

Yesterday, an old friend ( not literally, off course) paid a visit to me. The last few days were caught up in a frenzy of combustible events. Holidays intertwined with heartbreaks, Carols overlapped sad songs from Regina Spektor, Adele and host of other sentimental songstress. What I want is a much needed girlfriends bonding.
And it happened.

We went to Mcdonalds.

But I told my friend who didn't blink an eye ' If I have the moolah, we should have gone to...

She didn't object, so maybe, Mcdonalds, with its comical and clownish gentility, were all that we need.

We talked on so many things: It was only months we didn't see each other, but given the intensity of our conversation, it felt like years!

 I admired her too-petite physique, while she boisterously wonked at my too flabby countenance. She hauled her kinda cute BF while I looked over my shoulder for some vestige of ancient touch. Repulsive!

We lingered far too long to admire the bedecked, glittered, lighted Antipolo Church, which is so magnificent.

Our Lady of Peace and Good Voyage, Antipolo City

We admired the humbling creche diorama in front of the church, reminding us once again that the true purpose of Christmas is not  gift giving but the birth of Baby Jesus.

When we finally convinced ourselves that we had too much Christmas spirit, the three of us headed home for the continuation of our much missed chikahan. She commented on how cold the air was and I only imagined human warmth. Hehe.

We dined out over Chooks to go chicken, which, to my opinion, needs a little prepping up and the family favorite pancit canton courtesy of my gracious tita who works in The Original Savory ( Their selections are divine!)

Burp**

After the sumptuous meal, we went to my room where earlier, I cleaned like Jagger! The talking, yes, continued until the witching hours. We even Skyped via Facebook a dear friend of ours where we shared laughter and unadulterated good vibes. He was an old flame, but we separated ways already so the ember's gone.  

It went for hours and once again we were swept away on how fickle our individual lives turned out to be. But we are not the complaining lots. We embraced what other things in store for us in the coming years. It is our hope that you should too. When we departed ways, its tabula rasa once again. The slate is clean for another tapestry of forged friendships. ** Sigh**

Xoxo

Ryan

Coco-banana : tastebud down memory lane

Back in the province, when times get rough on the sewn and the fabric that held good time and good food is torn out, my Grandmother always finds the reason to cook up a feast- with what you can basically find in a ne'er-do well country pantry. Off course, it is nothing matched against the pasta alla puttanesca or  those hard-to-pronounce foodies of the nearby neighbors, where the earthy smell of oregano and rosemary wafted through the air.

I always say to anyone who'll listen that one of the best inventions in the world is pasta. These herbs and spices here are our  constant sniff, especially when our neighbours would be attempting Julia Child.

Just this afternoon, after a rather satisfying meal of fried eggplant soaked in palm vinegar and soy sauce- another provincial inspired viand, which, I swear would match any Margarita Fores, my grandmother whose visiting me over for the holidays, thought of cooking ' pakro'- a Visayan term for unripe banana with coconut milk and sugar and memories, all thrown in a cauldron! I had a sneak peek over my past. The glorious days of the past, when everything seems simpler and not hurried. 

If you want to introduce new to your tastebud, allow me to share to you the recipe for the Coco-banana ( for lack of better term). My sweeties, forgive me if I dunno the exact tablespoons of anything because I don't normally cook.

You will definitely need:

 Off course, if you plan to feed the whole barangay, you will need this variety. But, for just a... sampler, you can cut down the number of pieces.

You should not boil this, silly! You have to uhhmm.. extract the milk out of it.

and,

Brown, Muscovado, whatever. Diabetics alert!

What to do next:

1. You are going to peel the green pigmented banana.

2. Slice, chop it to shapes that you can think off. We prefer the minimalist vertical-horizontal scheme.

3. Bring the water to a boil. 

4. Delicately slide the chopped, longitudinal banana into the boiling water.

5. Practice Zen by waiting patiently for the banana to soften

Meanwhile, while waiting for the boil, you will..

1. Extract the coco milk from pre-grated coconut through laborious kneading

2. Sprinkle  the sugar into the coco concoction

3. Taste, if you want.

Ultimately

1. Gradually pour the sugared coco milk into the pan.

2. Wait for the second boil ( in which case, the banana strips would be deliciously mushy, thus giving lapot.

3.  Flavor to taste.

4.  For the sweet tooth member of the family, separate the pan.

5. Enjoy while it lasts

P.S.

I cannot fully give you access to the finished product. What was left was the empty pan. :)

Xoxo

Ryan

Pocket Delights part 1

1. Deliberate Acts of Needless Meanness- Justine Rozenholtz  2. The Warning Label Book- Joey Green, Tony Dierckins& Tim Nyberg  3. The Older I get, the Less I Care- Teresa Roberts Logan 4. You'll always be my baby- Sarah Evans 

5. Moments of Laughter- Bonnie Jensen 6. Amelia falls in love- Laura James 7. Buh! Humbug!- Ron Barrett 8. Children's Letter to God- compiled by Stuart Hample and Eric Marshall 9. Thank you so much!- Chris Shea 10. Laugh lines are beautiful - Liegh Anne Jasheway Bryant

I hold a strange fascination to pocket sized, hardbound, often charming, sometimes too little mini books. Proof that great things come from small packages!

Xoxo

Ryan

Heartaches and Surprises

Last night, just a few days after the merriest day of the year, my beau for a month and a half and I separated. As expected, I cried like as if a huge part of me was broken into shattering pieces. I sought out the help of my friends via text messaging, while, I tried to restore what was left of me. They all deserved my admiration for sticking on me through whatever. They all listened to my woes, my senseless caterwauling, and my denial that everything was indeed over.

I slept at around 3 am, tossed and turned, soaked pillow with tears that seemed not to dissipate. Not gallons of water could ever calm me down, I guessed. I remembered many things about us. The lunch at TokyoTokyo where he wanted to eat. The gaming at Time Zone where he drove cars, shot balls and targeted armies, monsters.The tireless walking on the mall's wide passages, stopping here and there, to admire  

Apple Macs, Adidas shoes and Jag shorts. There are countless more things that we did, and all of it shoved me to subterranean world of Pain.                                                           

                                                                                                     

Memories in a brand

When I love a person, I love wholeheartedly. And sometimes, it worked as a disadvantage. I would wait for the day that I will be wiser in dealing the affairs of my heart. For the meantime, this: 

    

                                         

500 days of Summer

I woke up today at 8 in the morning, with the memory of the grievances of last night. I still can't get over the loss but moving on seemed the next sensible thing. My friend coaxed me to just forget the a**hole and get on with my life. 

Then, like a beacon of light, my good friend, which will be withheld upon request, delivered her post-Christmas gift to me, unaware of the tempest last night. With my tousled mane, clearly  evident of the twisting and turning, I genuinely gave her the sweetest smile that I could muster and accepted her present, but from the look of it, was quite hastily wrapped. I said my thanks and went to my room, where, if the walls could only talk, could shamelessly relented the whole, wa-poise fiasco to a willing listener. I opened the gift and I just squealed.

                                                      

Ball Jar Art 

It is a sort of craft melange that combines scrapbooking, decoupage and three dimensional art. You have to believe me when I say that when I got lost to what's inside the heaven-sent gift, I sorta forgot the  agony of last night. What wonder will it bring me if I received the whole ' franchise'?

The whole set of this adorable DIY jar

 Very fitting, because I will need a jar to do this project, and if I could encapsulate or en-jar what happened last night, I would.

The possibilities of what you can come up are endless.

I want to extend my glorious gratitude to my friend for giving me gift that truly made a difference.

 Had you not given this, i would still be swimming in despair, face down, waiting for the next wave to sweep me away.

Xoxo

Ryan

Better Never Late

Xoxo

Ryan

Wiseasses

Love is about holding on and letting go. The former kills the chance, the latter killed it

                                                                     

                                                                                                                              Xoxo,

Ryan

Off course, I am sad. Hence, these songs..

Christina Perri's A Thousand Years

Adele's Set Fire to the Rain

Ingrid Michaelson's Keep Breathing

Courtney Jaye's Can You Sleep?

Xoxo

Ryan

RSPC 2011 uncut

No, you will not read anything of lust here. This is a wholesome blog. Well, I dunno how can I pretend it that way.

Lucena City, a 4-hour drive from Antipolo, is a city of multitudes. A later excursion deep in the underbelly will make you see how the local government tried- and succeeded in maintaining the old charm and newness of the place. Alongside  7-11 are broas-centered stores. Alongside sprawling malls are the decay of abandoned buildings, still unfazed, but the years of neglect had taken its toll. As one friend pointed out " Lucena fuses the ancient and the contemporary".

We were there for the Regional Schools Press Conference. My third time since I started teaching in a public school. It was, in my opinion, the break, the hiatus, we all deserved. It was a 5-day recuperation. We ( the advisers), squeezed the hours talking, eating, gossiping, looking over our journalists hopefuls, and to some, me particularly,scrounging books in Booksale.

Very eclectic arrays of hard to missed gems.I imagined my collection back home, doing high fives, dusting off the place, to make way to the new addition to the family. If I could marry a store, I'll definitely be monogamous.
Next time, whenever I visit places for RSPC, remind me to bring sacks!

          

Goldengrove- Francine Prose

                                                     

Eat, Pray, Love- Elizabeth Gilbert

                                                   

Natasha- David Bezmozgis

 Granta 115 The Feminist issue

 Granta 87 The Jubilee issue

Also, in going there, I couldn't pass the thought of not bringing my reading material. One I bought in Booksale Edsa Central and the other in National Bookstore- Victory Park and Shop, Antipolo.

 Stargirl- Jerry Spinelli

and

7. Twisted 7 by Jessica Zafra ( 777! whoah!)

So instead of buying the native products of Lucena, I panic-bought these books because as I always say " My 

instinct told me to buy these. " 

                                Xoxo,

Ryan

This post would mark as my very first blogger venture. I am pretty excited to be sharing something here. I had a total of two blogsites. The other is in tumblr where I normally post anything. Here, I will do the same. There will be no pattern about what I can write. I just let my imagination take the steering wheel and see where will it take me,
 So, today, as God is my witness, while drinking Pan de Manila's Cafe con Leche, I hereby promise to update this page. It may not be on the daily basis though.

                                                                                                                               
                                                                                                                                 xoxo
                                                                                                                              ryan faura