Learning to Fry

Mnay things have been happening the past few days, which is why I haven't been able to update any of my blogs *guiltyguilty*.

One of them is that I've learned, by necessity, to (drum roll please) fry an egg. Yes, I've never fried an egg. I can cook soups, pastas, and I think even did steak once, but I have never, ever, until now fried an egg.

It was an interesting experience. I was angsting because there was no olive oil around and was frettig that the yolk would overcok or the white would be undercooked. I think they came out decent enough. I haven't been brought to the hospital yet. I still have to master the art of making the white crisp at the sides and the yolk runny.

I've also been writing a lot. Unfortunately, none of them fiction. Most of it is for my day job as mild-mannered showbiz writer. The office has been in a flurry these past few days as artistas come in and out to be taped, recorded and photographed. The three top office favorites - Dennis Trillo, Jolina Magdangal and Marvin Agustin.

You will never get to fully appreciate Marvin until you have met him in person. He's sweet, charming, friendly and easy to work with. The same goes for Jolina, who, aside from being all that, has the nicest boots! Her new 'do is pretty, too. Dennis will always be a crowd draw. Everyone loves the good-looking mysterious guy-next-door-ness.

We also finished printing and delivering the latest issue pf Gusto! to Shopwise. It should be out this month so if you have a Wise card, head on over to your nearest Shopwise customer's service for a complimentary copy. We've featured Dawn Zulueta on the cover, with an inside feature on Toni Gonzaga.

I've also been busy with the Wish bazaar, ICAAA and AAXS's joint annual Christmas, er, bazaar. This year's event happenson the 2nd and 3rd of December in the Xavier School grounds. It will; feature booths, a rock concert, exotic pets, cars and more.

Last but not the least, Leah has come back from the U.S., bringing gifts of chocolate. She gave me a Ghirardeli Christmas pack, for which my tatse buds are enternally grateful, but my waistline is not. I love you, Leah!