A Rose by Any Other Name

Mary Ong, Rosebud, China Girl. A rose by any other name would still have thorns...for Ping Lacson and all the police who have been accused.

I missed out on the hearings yesterday. The telenovela has now turned into some sort of spy novel and I really don't know whom to believe, Rosebud or those law enforcers whom she has singled out as being involved in the drug trade.

I flew in from Malaysia yesterday, which partly explains why this daily diary was missing last night. I was dead tired and my hubby, Manuel, was sick. Must have gotten so stressed out over taking over this column for a few days. Anyway, thanks are in order for my "interesting" hubby whose writing style, as you might have read, is so different from mine.

Anyway, there really is no place like home. In the next few days, I'll be giving you some short pieces on observations, thoughts, and discoveries that I had while away from family and country. It was a bit liberating not having to write for a few days, but now that I'm back typing on this keyboard, I realize that this is really one of the best places to be.

PS. Re Manuel's previous piece: the sun stands for how you view yourself; the waves, love; the forest, death; and coffee, sex. Did you say "hot" or "yummy" for coffee? Nuff said.