NEW ATKINS

NICE LAUNDRY LADY GIVES ME A FABRIC BAG FOR MY GROCERIES.

LAMB PATTIES - NO BUNS, NATCH - FOR LUNCH.

HOUSE CLEANING + RECREATIONAL READING + SIESTA

2 CHEESE SLICES...

...AND 5 ALMONDS FOR AFTERNOON SNACK.

VODKA (0 CARB) + PERRIER LEMON (0 CARB) + ICE (0 CARB) FOR HAPPY HOUR.

 

// FEED ME. 

MORE. //

DETOX DIVA DAY 11: FILM + RADIO

 // FAR AWAY EYES GALA PREMIERE //

3 - KILOGRAMS LOST

2 - INCHES LOST FROM THE WAISTLINE

1 - HYPERACTIVE GAY BOY™

THANK YOU, DETOX DIVA!

 My Detox Diva Deborah Dewey on RTHK

DOWNTOWN DETOX

DETOX DIVA DAY 10: RAIN

I wasn't as clever as this guy. I got wet.

Ho. Nest. Ly.
Just honestly.

"Hello...?" I croak into my phone.

"It's your Detox Diva!" says a chirpy voice.

"Deb..." I moan, "I'm home with a fever. Sick."

"Oh no! Are you detox-sick?"

"No, silly! I got wet from the rain last night."

"Oh, for a while I was worried you were feeling sick from the deep cleanse."

"I'm not. It's actually easier now. I'm not even getting hunger pangs."

"Good. Just one more day! hang in there!"

"Thanks, Deb." I hang up, pulling the duvet closer to my neck.

"You're hot," Chris whispers.

"I know," I reply.

Beat.

"I meant your temperature."

"Oh."

So for the rest of the day, I binge on The Bachelorette. Wrong move. I become even more feverishly delirious whilst watching the sausagefest on display. How do I get to be Emily Maynard for a day??

I need to become blonde.

// OH, I AM. //    

DOWNTOWN DETOX


  

DETOX DIVA DAY 9: BEFORE I DIE

 

// SHEUNG WAN //

Before I die of liver failure, I just want to give my body a chance to hit the "RESET" button. I need a little help to prod me along towards better balance.

OK, that sounded totally fake.

I party too much and it totally shows. I look older than my years; I'm bloated everywhere. To be honest, I just wanted to look and feel better. And maybe - just maybe - a detox is the way forward.

Yup.

VANITY.

That's why I'm detoxing.   

From my Detox Diva Deborah Dewey:


Hi James,

great you can do the top button up, yeah! Measuring your body with how you feel in your clothes is the best gauge, so great.

Warm Regards,

Deborah DEWEY

Detox Diva


Day 9. I'm alive, alert, awake and enthusiastic.
 

DOWNTOWN DETOX

DETOX DIVA DAY 8: GIANT CHORIZO & JUICY MUSSELS

RYE + HYPERACTIVE

BIG RED CHORIZO

FAT JUICY MUSSELS

STEAMED BROCCOLI

DIVA PILLOW IN THE DIVA NEST, NATCH.

"Any cravings?"Detox Diva Deborah Dewey carefully enquires.

"None," I reply. "Not even for chocolate. I haven't had a 'brownie' in days. My appetite's not as massive as before, either."

"Your stomach is shrinking," Deborah says knowingly.

"Your face is thinner,"Adele says.

"You look skinnier," Rye says.

Please, guys, stop it some more!

I like this detox; I take one, small victory every day. I feel like I'm getting somewhere, that's why I'm encouraged to plod through the cycle. Of course it helps that I don't feel deprived; I actually get to enjoy one meal on my shake days (which, happily, outnumber the scary deep cleanse days).

"Avoid craps," Deborah reminds me.

She means C = coffee; R = refined carbs; A = alcohol; P = processed food; S = sugar & salt.

OK, so Rye's garlic chorizo from Macau, a pasalubong from Noelito and Rai Lee, actually falls under 'craps'... But I swear I only had a few, unctuous pieces... They were so good, I moaned. I sated my appetite mostly with mussels, which were obscenely fat and impossibly juicy. Yeah - detox does that. It intensifies the eating experience into some sort of sexual reawakening.

"I made steamed broccoli for you," Rye says, "so you don't have to worry too much about having to eat white rice."

What would I ever do without friends?

Three more days!

// WERQ. //      

  

DOWNTOWN DETOX

DETOX DIVA DAY 7: NINJA WARRIOR

Ryeness and Jamesie in Volume BEAT / Photo by Derek Ng

This is the easiest day, I reckon, because I'm too tired to go anywhere. Nothing on my Social Calendar. Nothing. Yay.

I arrive home at 7.30am from partying in Volume BEAT, then, in my dear friend Rye's place afterwards. Chris is already hard at work in the study with his discussion paper on Vietnam.

I realize only when I get home that I left my phone at Rye's place. I don't receive my regular phone call from my Detox Diva Deborah Dewey; no energy left to check my e-mail for Deb's daily cheer-me-up, either.

I just collapse in bed and proceed to slumber for the next 10 hours...

It's Sunday.

Honestly, I don't know how I managed to survive the entire week on detox whilst keeping up with my social obligations... I guess I have to own up to it: I am an extrovert, after all...

But not today.

"You guys are egging me on," my dear friend, Evan (a.k.a. DJ Stonedog - Volume's Creative Director) told me and Rye last night. Rye and I did burn up the ledge last night. It was so fun, much thanks to my detox. It has been a while since I've felt good enough about myself to actually get up and dance without my fatty bits bouncing all over the place. Simple pleasures.  

So today, I'm happy to be a vegetable.

American Ninja Warrior / NBC

I'm watching hunks with ginormous muscles power through the obstacles leading up to the mythical Mt. Midoriyama, in NBC's American Ninja Warrior.

I reckon I could ask Chris to "Please pass the mustard" so I could spread it all over the sausages on display... But I don't.

Instead, I reach for the healthy stuff.

// ME = SUPERFRUIT. //  

DOWNTOWN DETOX

DETOX DIVA DAY 6: FLIPBALL

Senator Franklin Drilon and The Hyperactive Gay Boy™

Charity Belles: Emma Hammonds, Bono Albania, Thuy Dong, James Gannaban, Paul Ramscar

Clockwise: Emma Hammonds, James Gannaban, Paul Ramscar, Bono Albania

An autographed print of National Artist Jose Joya's Madonna and Child

Clowning around and being Hyperactive, because why not?

When all else fails, leave your mark on the white linen.

 
This is getting harder and harder, I'm not gonna lie.

I die inside when I realize that the Philippine Independence Day Charity Ball, hosted by the Philippine Association of Hong Kong in the Grand Ballroom of the Kowloon Shangri-La, falls smack in the middle of my detox.

Detox Diva Deborah Dewey e-mails:

Dear James, 

I trust you have been sticking to the detox to the T. For best results do stay with the program :)

Deborah

OK, I am torn between bailing out on the event and bailing out on my detox. But since the invite came from my dear friend, Bono Albania (who is a Parkview taitai - and we all know how these taitais are about their charity balls), I happily come into some sort of a solution:

I replace both breakfast and lunch with a shake and resolve to eat sensibly at the dinner table.

My tuxedo is a bit baggy, I'm not too devastated to find out. It means that my detox is working.

Bono, bearing a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, picks me up from my and Chris' flat. The cork stays in place. I hustle my Hyperactive and Bono's filthy rich taitai asses into a cab, which then merits consternation from a clueless girl who thought the cab was hers. She yells: "Dooooood!?!?!" and throws her hands indignantly up in the air. Girleen, you think I care?

The charity ball is a hoot.

Firstly, the parade of Pinays in their Atelier Versace frocks and ginormous Cartier rock candy puts the Real Housewives of New Jersey to shame. The Real Housewives of Kowloon Tong have been primped, permed, pinched and pulled into macabre perfection.

"Beats L.A.," Paul Ramscar whispers in awe at the parade of Botoxed beauties.

"So many sugar daddies around," a skinny guy with an American twang smirks.

"Watch it," I warn him. "YOU are not allowed to say that. Not here, not now."

"Whoa," he says, putting his hands up in mock defeat. "Don't wanna get my ass kicked."

Secondly, the parade of politicians / diplomats promising "I won't take too much of your time..." on the microphone do just that, exactly. I am bored to tears - except I am laughing at the exquisite absurdity of having to sit through another 20 minutes about former Chief Justice Renato Corona's impeachment.

Thirdly, the affair is so flagrantly showbiz! Aga Muhlach? Lovi Poe?!

"Let's have a photo with her," Paul nudges me towards Lovi.

"WHY?!?!" I practically wail in bewilderment.

"Because she's pretty," Paul says firmly.

"Lovi," I say with a straight (ha ha) face, "my dear friend, Paul, is a fan of yours. We would be honoured if you took a photo with us."

With "one of the the most popular 'artists' in the Philippines today," Lovi Poe. She's pretty. Paul and Emma said so. Confeermed.

// CLICK! //

MABUHAY ANG PILIPINAS!

DOWNTOWN DETOX

DETOX DIVA DAY 5: BANKSY & ME

SONIA LAM

BIRGIT, WHOSE PETRIFIED LEAF PENDANT (FROM THE BRAZILIAN AMAZON) REMINDED ME OF A VAGINA.

BANKSY

AMEN.

PARIS CITY MAP

SELF-PORTRAIT

SHRIMP SALAD WITH SOME SORT OF COGNAC DRESSING

SAUSAGES AND (WHAT ELSE??) FRENCH FRIES

SONIA'S CORDON BLEU, DESTROYED.

PRETTY DESSERT

BRIAN, RICHIE, ARUN, BIRGIT, HYPERACTIVE, MAINE, SONIA

VIEW FROM THE TOP

FOOSBALL

FRENCH BOYS

INDEED.

"Congrats, you made it!" says the e-mail from Detox Diva Deborah Dewey. "It's Day 5! Back to having 1 square meal today!"

Thank goodness. I feel like my old self, too - but better. Sharp, alert, hyperactive. The past two days of deep cleanse were a struggle between bouts of dizzyness and hunger. Today, I'm not even craving my "brownie" tablets.

"Think of this as a holiday for your body," Deborah reminded me.

Right.

I'm just happy I'm through to Day 5 and am able to eat real food again. Every bit of food tastes a lot more intense, more satisfying. I even give my chicken adobo, which I cooked for Filipino Food Friday, five stars!

I pop over to Volume Heat for Happy Hour drinks with my colleagues, Cat and Maine. Cat orders cranberry juice, I ask for fresh orange juice with sparkling water, Maine asks for a blueberry martini. It looks deadly.

But what's even deadlier is bumping into my dear friend, Rye, whom I truly should be hiding from if I want to succeed with my detox. Strangely, Rye is being supportive...
 
"When did we become such grown ups?" I demanded.

"In 2009," Rye replied, "after we lost a year of our lives, journeying."

Cat soon takes leave to catch up with her lovey for a movie, Rye goes home to finish assessment of his 169 students (!!!), Maine and I head over to the soft opening of La Cantoche, a new "French canteen" just about 10 skips away from where Chris and I live.

It was there I caught up with ny mafioso colleague Arun, La Cantoche's Directeur de Cantine David ("I serve French food just like maman made"),  ultra-exclusive Taboo club impresario Manu, former broker Brian, marketing maven Sonia, sassy waitress Giselle, and... Banksy.

// BAD. //

DOWNTOWN DETOX

P.S.

La Cantoche

G/F, No.5 Wa Lane

227 Hollywood Road

Sheung Wan, Hong Kong

(852) 2426 0880

Opens 11th of June 2012  

DETOX DIVA DAY 4: PIZZAFACE

My lunch at se | sa | me consisted of green tea and 5 pieces of unsalted edamame.

My colleagues' stash of junk food.

My colleague, Cat. Annoying.

Obscenely sausage-y pizza at Lore's birthday do in T:ME Bar

My friend, Justin. Annoying.

Gorgeously fleshy portrait by Herman Wong in T:ME Bar

...and a gloriously abused, fleshy face - also by Herman Wong, natch.

 

Everything looks like food. My notebook, my computer, my friends' faces...

Every breathe I take, I seem to catch a whiff of sweet and sour pork or sliced beef with fried noodles. I am going nuts.

I take my usual scoop of deep cleanse powder and two discs of "brownies" for breakfast, I swallow a natural accelerator, and I declare myself ready for work.

"How are you doing today?" Detox Diva Deborah Dewey chirpily enquires. She calls every day to check up on me. My own cheerleader!

"I'm doing OK," I share. "I'm a bit dizzy... But I've already lost an inch around my belly... I think."

I'm careful not to be too happy, immediately. Or else the universe might smite me with the fat stick and I'll wake up the next day, three inches wider down the middle. Shudder.

I grab lunch at se | sa | me with the the lovely Elle Bradstock (who claims to be hungover from the previous night's Great Grape Debate) and the absolutely dishy Roger de Leon (who claims to have been too lazy to go to the gym, despite his bulging biceps). Both look sensational.

I tuck into my lunch: a few pieces of unsalted edamame and a pot of green tea.

Meanwhile, graceful waiters glide through the restaurant floor with pots and plates of beautiful "Japanasian" food. Fish and meats. Sauces. Carbs.

Serves me right for having abused my body before. Now, it needs to repair.

Extra-large boxes of pizza arrive in the office at 4pm. My colleagues, Cat and Maine, gleefully tuck in. I die on the inside as I watch their teeth sink into the cheesy, powdery crust.

After the pizza practically disappeared, Cat opens a bag of Snyder's of Hanover Honey Mustard & Onion Pieces.My favourite!!!

"Stay. Away. From. My. Food.," Cat warns.

I whimper away in embarrassment. I'm sorry.

I head to T:IME Bar after work to join Lore's Mango Martini Party. I stay away from alcohol with - I'm suprised - enough determination. Vodka sodas, spritzers, shooters fly through the bar. What else?

MORE FUCKING PIZZA.

The entire bar counter is covered with obscenely greasy boxes. I stealthily grab some rocket off of the top of a pizza slice. I promptly feel guilty.     

On the wall, even Herman Wong's portraits look to me like beautiful, oven-fresh pizza.

I'm hungry, dammit!

But once again, I survive the night.

At 9:20pm, I head for home.

  

// WILLPOWER. //  

DOWNTOWN DETOX