Dances with devils under the pale moonlight
Omnia Vincit Amor, meaning “Love Conquers All”. Virgil. Ironically, love could lead to disaster and end yourself up dancing with the devil under the pale moonlight, wreaking havoc on other people’s lives and yours too, until you find someone who will turn your world upside down. And when that happens, a place so sinister and foreign suddenly feels like home. And if that relationship fails, you reset to the beginning, the cycle repeats and you end up dancing with more devils. And as the kwentong bartender from Big Sky Mind goes, “Carry on compadre!”
My cool and wicked brother has asked me about drinking in Australia so let the story begin. Well, people drink for many reasons and besides that of seeing and being seen under the pretense of chilling out, you have to admit that it is actually to prey on something exciting to happen. For me, I had no choice. I’m back to dancing the devil although this time under the protection of the Almighty. I know now why he had to suffer which is to prove to us that he loves us and that we need not worry. So here I am dancing with the enemy without worries, well a little bit. But hey, danger comes in any form of excitement.
Castle Hill is a suburb some 60 minutes away from the city and of acceptable elegance. It is surrounded by other suburbs ending their names with “Hill” or “Hills”. They call us the Hills District. Hills is home. The good thing about Castle Hill is that there is only one place to rendezvous for drinks and that is the Hillside. On Fridays and Saturdays, clubbing happens upstairs at a very affordable price of AUD5.
Hillside Hotel is probably where I’ve met the most insane of people. Insane meaning cool. There is Ryan who lived a significant period of his life in South America. He calls me Fish because I drank his whiskey like one, and the name “Marlo” sounds like it apparently. One time, we all went to the Tavern from Hillside and got sloshed over too much beer and bourbon coke. He was kind enough to take me home in a taxicab, which I fucked up with orally thrown out Vaginal Brew (VB or Victoria Bitter) and cost him AUD270. Poor thing. Ryan is a very nice guy. Lesson, don’t throw up in a cab, no matter what happens! Not in Sydney!
There is Chris Bar, the fisherman, with his fixation on Icelandic chicks and Cricket. Actually, Chris works in a large fishing vessel and has an amiable circle of friends, including a guy eternally clad in a suit. Chris is great with stories to tell and has a kind heart too.
There is David, my awesome housemate, awesome because he calls me awesome too. Well, we do have to reciprocate a compliment. David is a gentleman in a big bike and works at the Hillside Hotel. He would invite me to have drinks with his friends when they visit the house once in a while. On certain days that I felt weary, he offered me a couple of beers from his eskie, eskee or however they spelt it in Aussie English. His girlfriend is a very nice brunette chick who would always say hi to me whenever she visited David in the house or saw me at the Hillside. She is lucky to have David and vice-versa.
There is the sea witch, that is the landlady, who eternally breaks into other people’s lives, in particular, OURS! She looks and sounds it. We all hate her but what can we do, she is after all the landlady! She is kind to me sometimes, brings me Flip food once in a while. She makes me mow the lawn which I get to do only during my very rare free time - that is when I’m not in school, away at work as a dish pig, or wasting valuable time procrastinating, HAR! HAR! She insists I missed a week’s payment which I know I didn’t. May the Holy Spirit enlighten her and save my beer money, errr … textbook funds, from disintegrating. Hush! Hush! MiJ! Hehe. But seriously, that money is set aside for two new textbooks I need for the upcoming assessments.
Then, there is my best friend from Perth, Australia. She is my classmate and loves cooking as well. She has the same color of her mug as mine, pastel brown and into olives and Italian cuisine. During Friday class, we have Chef Darren, who is very good in teaching, like your watching a good cooking show on TV. He is bubbly, British and passionate about cooking. He has this bible of culinary terms including Rouille, which he says is a key ingredient of Soup de Poisson or fish soup. He seems to be into Bacardi because that seems to be the consequence of us fucking up in the kitchen. We have to buy him one if we do. I guess it will be cool to drink with him one time so I’d better think of a way to fuck up, perhaps “accidentally” pour gasoline on that bitch of a dishwasher or some emo fashion-clad classmate. Har! Har! Anyways, one time, Kate and another classmate of mine had a couple of beers, which we brought to the school parking lot. In the morning, Kate remembered that there were cameras all over that area. We have not received any notice so far. Safe!
There is my Filipina classmate but she doesn’t drink. So why is she part of my story? Well, she is nice. That’s all. Hehe! And she seems to be the favorite prey of my international classmates who is new to western culture and “shocked” with the liberated stories of Filipinas in Manila Society.
There is my cousin Anjo, who gave me a push into Hillside clubbing upstairs for the first time. He is an angel. His girlfriend is nice to me too. I met her with blonde hair but now sports something jet black. I teased her being inspired by the teenage flick “Twilight”. It is from Anjo that I was immersed into Mexican cervezas like Sol and Corona. Anjo also introduced me to Woodstock Bourbon Coke. It was very potent. Anjo always had supplies in the fridge and told me I can get from anytime. God bless you Anjo. Hehe!
The other night, I met The Beatles at Hillside, and in their early 20s at that. Actually, they simply introduced themselves as such out of fun. Two of them were Kastilaloys, bearing the name of Aldeguer and Alcazar respectively. The Aldeguer guy looked like Dino Aldeguer but he didn’t know him. It was Danny that I jibed with a lot, the Aussie guy who claimed to be John Lennon. He loved my pick up lines and probably would work in Australia, perhaps. “Are you a dictionary? Because you just added meaning to my night” or “Do I have a bruise on my forehead? Because I saw you and fell … in love”. HAHAHAHAHA! FUCK!
There was this hot Italian girl whom I met during the same night. She reminded me of someone special. She was clad in black party dress and tan boots. Her name was very Italian which I could pronounce but had a hard time spelling. I was chicken shit to get her number though she was the first to talk to me and showed some bit of interest. Her smile was like that of Jennifer Love Hewitt and her dimples, God save me from desire! I can never forget the way she looked at me. Malandi, haha! Perhaps I will meet her again.
Finally, there is that elegant person who reminded me how scintillating it is to be in love. I’ve forgotten who I was after my terrible break up some three years ago. She is the reason why this place so sinister and foreign suddenly feels like home. I met her in the early days of winter. She bore the name of my mother and grandmother. Oooh! Meant to be! So high school, haha! Unfortunately, I was too tactless and immature to take care of that relationship. She was right. I didn’t let her go, she left. I deserve it because I took her for granted and distanced myself. I never had faith in love because of my past experiences with women. In the end, that doubt destroyed us from within and we fell apart. And the drinking part? Well, she likes drinking. Haha! Beeyah (meaning beer in Aussie English) and red wine. Now I’m addicted to cabernet sauvignon, which is way cheaper than a 6pack mind you. I buy a bottle for AUD7 once in a while. Good for the heart.
So moving forward, I now know what I want to do. I knew I always did, but somehow lost it along the way. I am a party animal and I belong to hospitality. I love culinary and will finish this course then do my apprenticeship. The rest, we’ll cross the bridge when we get there. No more bitching, just happy thoughts. Have you ever danced with the devil under the pale moonlight?
9.9.2009
My cool and wicked brother has asked me about drinking in Australia so let the story begin. Well, people drink for many reasons and besides that of seeing and being seen under the pretense of chilling out, you have to admit that it is actually to prey on something exciting to happen. For me, I had no choice. I’m back to dancing the devil although this time under the protection of the Almighty. I know now why he had to suffer which is to prove to us that he loves us and that we need not worry. So here I am dancing with the enemy without worries, well a little bit. But hey, danger comes in any form of excitement.
Castle Hill is a suburb some 60 minutes away from the city and of acceptable elegance. It is surrounded by other suburbs ending their names with “Hill” or “Hills”. They call us the Hills District. Hills is home. The good thing about Castle Hill is that there is only one place to rendezvous for drinks and that is the Hillside. On Fridays and Saturdays, clubbing happens upstairs at a very affordable price of AUD5.
Hillside Hotel is probably where I’ve met the most insane of people. Insane meaning cool. There is Ryan who lived a significant period of his life in South America. He calls me Fish because I drank his whiskey like one, and the name “Marlo” sounds like it apparently. One time, we all went to the Tavern from Hillside and got sloshed over too much beer and bourbon coke. He was kind enough to take me home in a taxicab, which I fucked up with orally thrown out Vaginal Brew (VB or Victoria Bitter) and cost him AUD270. Poor thing. Ryan is a very nice guy. Lesson, don’t throw up in a cab, no matter what happens! Not in Sydney!
There is Chris Bar, the fisherman, with his fixation on Icelandic chicks and Cricket. Actually, Chris works in a large fishing vessel and has an amiable circle of friends, including a guy eternally clad in a suit. Chris is great with stories to tell and has a kind heart too.
There is David, my awesome housemate, awesome because he calls me awesome too. Well, we do have to reciprocate a compliment. David is a gentleman in a big bike and works at the Hillside Hotel. He would invite me to have drinks with his friends when they visit the house once in a while. On certain days that I felt weary, he offered me a couple of beers from his eskie, eskee or however they spelt it in Aussie English. His girlfriend is a very nice brunette chick who would always say hi to me whenever she visited David in the house or saw me at the Hillside. She is lucky to have David and vice-versa.
There is the sea witch, that is the landlady, who eternally breaks into other people’s lives, in particular, OURS! She looks and sounds it. We all hate her but what can we do, she is after all the landlady! She is kind to me sometimes, brings me Flip food once in a while. She makes me mow the lawn which I get to do only during my very rare free time - that is when I’m not in school, away at work as a dish pig, or wasting valuable time procrastinating, HAR! HAR! She insists I missed a week’s payment which I know I didn’t. May the Holy Spirit enlighten her and save my beer money, errr … textbook funds, from disintegrating. Hush! Hush! MiJ! Hehe. But seriously, that money is set aside for two new textbooks I need for the upcoming assessments.
Then, there is my best friend from Perth, Australia. She is my classmate and loves cooking as well. She has the same color of her mug as mine, pastel brown and into olives and Italian cuisine. During Friday class, we have Chef Darren, who is very good in teaching, like your watching a good cooking show on TV. He is bubbly, British and passionate about cooking. He has this bible of culinary terms including Rouille, which he says is a key ingredient of Soup de Poisson or fish soup. He seems to be into Bacardi because that seems to be the consequence of us fucking up in the kitchen. We have to buy him one if we do. I guess it will be cool to drink with him one time so I’d better think of a way to fuck up, perhaps “accidentally” pour gasoline on that bitch of a dishwasher or some emo fashion-clad classmate. Har! Har! Anyways, one time, Kate and another classmate of mine had a couple of beers, which we brought to the school parking lot. In the morning, Kate remembered that there were cameras all over that area. We have not received any notice so far. Safe!
There is my Filipina classmate but she doesn’t drink. So why is she part of my story? Well, she is nice. That’s all. Hehe! And she seems to be the favorite prey of my international classmates who is new to western culture and “shocked” with the liberated stories of Filipinas in Manila Society.
There is my cousin Anjo, who gave me a push into Hillside clubbing upstairs for the first time. He is an angel. His girlfriend is nice to me too. I met her with blonde hair but now sports something jet black. I teased her being inspired by the teenage flick “Twilight”. It is from Anjo that I was immersed into Mexican cervezas like Sol and Corona. Anjo also introduced me to Woodstock Bourbon Coke. It was very potent. Anjo always had supplies in the fridge and told me I can get from anytime. God bless you Anjo. Hehe!
The other night, I met The Beatles at Hillside, and in their early 20s at that. Actually, they simply introduced themselves as such out of fun. Two of them were Kastilaloys, bearing the name of Aldeguer and Alcazar respectively. The Aldeguer guy looked like Dino Aldeguer but he didn’t know him. It was Danny that I jibed with a lot, the Aussie guy who claimed to be John Lennon. He loved my pick up lines and probably would work in Australia, perhaps. “Are you a dictionary? Because you just added meaning to my night” or “Do I have a bruise on my forehead? Because I saw you and fell … in love”. HAHAHAHAHA! FUCK!
There was this hot Italian girl whom I met during the same night. She reminded me of someone special. She was clad in black party dress and tan boots. Her name was very Italian which I could pronounce but had a hard time spelling. I was chicken shit to get her number though she was the first to talk to me and showed some bit of interest. Her smile was like that of Jennifer Love Hewitt and her dimples, God save me from desire! I can never forget the way she looked at me. Malandi, haha! Perhaps I will meet her again.
Finally, there is that elegant person who reminded me how scintillating it is to be in love. I’ve forgotten who I was after my terrible break up some three years ago. She is the reason why this place so sinister and foreign suddenly feels like home. I met her in the early days of winter. She bore the name of my mother and grandmother. Oooh! Meant to be! So high school, haha! Unfortunately, I was too tactless and immature to take care of that relationship. She was right. I didn’t let her go, she left. I deserve it because I took her for granted and distanced myself. I never had faith in love because of my past experiences with women. In the end, that doubt destroyed us from within and we fell apart. And the drinking part? Well, she likes drinking. Haha! Beeyah (meaning beer in Aussie English) and red wine. Now I’m addicted to cabernet sauvignon, which is way cheaper than a 6pack mind you. I buy a bottle for AUD7 once in a while. Good for the heart.
So moving forward, I now know what I want to do. I knew I always did, but somehow lost it along the way. I am a party animal and I belong to hospitality. I love culinary and will finish this course then do my apprenticeship. The rest, we’ll cross the bridge when we get there. No more bitching, just happy thoughts. Have you ever danced with the devil under the pale moonlight?
9.9.2009
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