Geisha Diaries

Let’s clear this up immediately: I am not, nor have I ever been, a Geisha. I don’t pour tea in elaborate silk robes, nor do I master the art of conversation while playing a shamisen. The confusion arose because people, in their infinite wisdom, began referring to me as “Gay ‘sya” — which, depending on who’s slurring after five shots of Red Horse, either means I possess a certain flamboyant charm or that my existence raises questions your conservative uncle isn’t ready to answer. I’ve stopped correcting them. It’s funnier this way.

Culinary Journey Through Bukidnon and Misamis Oriental: A Day of Delicious Discoveries

A (wo)man without paint is like food without salt

Geisha Diaries