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Recently, I came to talking with someone about the way I was brought up and how that made me the person I am today. My mother's main desire with me was for me to always broaden my horizons. She would always take me to see all the movies, to all the different restaurants to try different cuisines, to the bookstore so that I could find books to read and learn from. And we also have shared a lot of vacation time together. We've probably been on holiday together around thirty times now, and we're in the midst of planning a trip to Scotland next February.
Often, I find that my conversations with her are always too serious. They always concern family, safety, time management, health, and the two biggest topics of all - money, and my future. And this is why it was good for us to go on holiday, or to go to the movies. It would give us the opportunity to spend time together, but there was distraction to keep our minds occupied, and ultimately, to help us avoid an overly serious mother-son relationship.
My dad on the other hand, he was always about teaching me to enjoy my life. Although he works a very serious job as a private investigator, engaging with the police and the big CEOs and the triads of Hong Kong, he still managed to teach me how to deal with a dichotomous reality where life can be complex and toilsome at times, but also calm, laid-back and enjoyable during other times.
To enjoy life didn't mean going out to bars, drinking and partying - that wasn't the only part of it, or even a major part of it. He knew how to find fun and beauty in doing simple things like playing chess, going out bike-riding, and playing catch with a baseball on the beach. Even though the modern world, with all its technology and education, is a major part in our societal advancement today, a simple pork chop, barbecued over a lit fire-pit in the backyard with some honey glazed on top, could be so much more marvelous compared to pretentious braising, caramelizing or sautéing.
And I find myself really blessed to have parents like these. They might not teach their children, me, the way the other may want to, but I think I've come to take all the good life-lessons they both had to offer. And I appreciate the fact that although going out drinking, or enjoying the great outdoors may not be my mother's cup of tea, she still likes the fact that I'm going out there, learning things about people, broadening my horizons in that sense. And with my dad, although education, books and traveling may not be what he's all about, he sees that I enjoy it, that I'm enjoying my life - which makes him proud, makes both of my parents proud.
They are divorced, but that isn't a concern for any of the three of us any longer - just a fact, just something that happened in the past. They may not agree on certain things - but they've both reinforced the same ideas in my head, collectively guiding me to be a person that appreciates my family on both sides, to stand up for myself when I feel I'm being wronged, to not be afraid of the world and the difficulties it brings, to be sincere, and honest, and kind to people generally, and to have a strong will if I want to do something passionately.
And finally, I'll end this here, with the two things they constantly remind me to keep in mind the most. It's almost annoying how many times it comes up in conversation. The first rule is to always use protection. They don't want me catching HIV, which I guess is reasonable. The second rule, of course, is to never, ever, ever, ever - get married.
Hahahahahahahahahahahaha...
I’m now sitting in a cab, on my way home, after spending the night at my dad’s place. Yesterday marks the first time I’ve seen him since last July after I vowed never to speak to him ever again. I find it strange, and wonderful, but mostly strange, how relationships heal over time, how feelings can change so rapidly. Who knows? Maybe next time I’ll get pissed at him again and promise myself the same thing I did a year ago. I guess you (and by ‘you’, I mean ‘I’) just need to approach each meet-up with an open mind, or better yet, an optimistic attitude.
So, what did we do yesterday… after school, I journeyed to Pacific Place, a rich-bitch shopping arcade that features Lane Crawford, Gucci, Chanel, Dior, and the like. I met up with him at this small restaurant-bar thing, where he was having a beer in a beautifully sculpted glass. He ordered teriyaki beef with rice and salmon sashimi for me, because I was hungry and apparently, they were very good according to him. He also asked if I wanted a beer, and I ordered a Coke instead. First alcohol temptation test since deciding to quit drinking – I passed without hesitation.
We then went to Lan Kwai Fong, the drinking and clubbing venue in Hong Kong. We went to say hello to a good friend of his, who was playing pool with a girl named Belinda at a pool-restaurant place called ‘Racks’. I think I saw one or two Hongkonger celebrities there… I can’t say I wasn’t impressed... in fact, my dad has always known all the cool hangout venues. I am always impressed by where he brings me.
Next on the agenda was his favorite bar, La Dolce Vita ’97. I unfortunately broke my no-drinking rule right there and then, and sinfully downed a Malibu Coke while he had a second beer. I don’t really know what to make of my quitting drinking. I guess I’ll just aim to reduce the amount I drink, as opposed to stopping totally.
He then took me to his place, and I was pleasantly surprised.
He lives in a tiny metropolis sort of place in the middle of Hong Kong. There’s everything you would ever want to live close to: supermarkets, cinemas, concert hall, coffeehouses, delis, fast-food and fancy restaurants and sports grounds are just a few examples. Being a resident there also meant you had access to the club house where they had squash courts, swimming pools, a Laundromat, table-tennis tables, pool tables, a sauna, a spa, etc…
Dude, my dad was living in a rich man’s world. I have to say, everybody we passed by while walking toward his place from the bus stop either looked stylish, rich, sexy, or some combination of the three – that’s boys and girls, mind you.
The actual apartment was spacious, clean, very stylish, and an ocean view. There was a plasma TV, speakers surrounding the sofa area, his laptop computer, space for my notebook, and the music he played was good, too. I took a shower as well, and seriously, I don’t think the hot water runs out, like a five-star hotel. Lining the bathroom sink were bottles of Hugo Boss and Giorgio Armani fragrances for men. There was great shampoo and conditioner, great shaving cream, even great toothpaste, soap and mouthwash. And by ‘great’, I mean ‘expensive’.
When we got to his house, we had dinner while watching some TV… I taught him how to get good quality movie streams on the internet and he went to doing that while I did my own thing on my laptop.
But the thing that really made my night last night was his two pet cats. I don’t know if they have names, but they were two adorable Scottish Folds. When I first saw them, I went up to the black one and pet him and he was just drawn to me immediately, we clicked. The white-with-brown-spots Fold came over soon after, and in an hour or two, I found myself posting on Do you hate it too? with the two cats as my armrests while I typed.
I was originally going to head home once it got really late, but I simply liked it there too much to leave so soon. I fell asleep on the couch while my dad watched a horrible movie called ‘Dungeon Girl’.
At around 10:30am, I woke up to find both cats curling up beside me, clawing at my hair, gently punching my stomach, jumping over my head, over my legs and back again, meowing, licking my face and my fingers, like they were trying to tell me it was time to get up. I just opened my eyes at that point, saw them, and really genuinely smiled for the first time in a long time, like I didn’t have a worry in the world because I had these two cats with me.
They had seen me open my eyes, and I guess they decided it was their turn to go to sleep. They spread themselves on the sofa we were sharing, and used my stomach as their pillow for their heads. I just lay there, for twenty minutes, watching their heads go up and down, up and down, up and down as I breathed. And I couldn’t remember the last time I was so content, so comfortable, so happy.
My dad was alright. But it was those cats that were the main son-magnets. A good journey overall, can’t wait to see what happens today.
I've been interviewed by Argentum Vulgaris, creator of 'Nether Region of the Earth II', 'Tomus Arcanum' and 'Things that Fizz and Stuff'. If you want me to interview you, well, just take a look at the instructions at the end of this post to find out how.
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1. Your blog is actually very interesting, why did you choose to tell the world about personal dislikes as opposed to likes?
One day I felt the compulsion to create something where I could write everyday, and my friend suggested that I start a blog. Before I started Do you hate it too?, I used to rant about everything to my friends exceedingly and it annoyed them, and stressed me out a lot. It just seemed like a good idea for a blog and I knew I could carry on writing about my dislikes for such a long time. I could never write about my likes on a daily basis. I've thought about making a Do you love it too? blog, but generally, I lack the ideas for it and I don't have the time to manage both.
2. During you recent blogging career you have disclosed some pretty personal stuff. Stuff that many of us prefer to keep as skeletons in our familial closets. Why do you feel that you can trust the blogging community given that most of us remain anonymous to a degree?
I don't trust the blogging community. (ouch, right?) I trust my best friend and myself and that's about it. Disclosing my secrets isn't and never has been an indication of trust for me. The past is just the past, my sexuality is just a preference and radical thoughts are simply thoughts. I have no problem talking about the truth, nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to stuff that others would otherwise keep secret. To be blunt, what can the anonymous blogging community do to me if they know stuff about me? Who would dare to do something anyway?
3. You have said that you are half-Filipino. Which half and why do you live in Hong Kong?
My dad is Filipino and my mom is Hong Kong Chinese. My paternal grandfather brought my dad and his siblings to Hong Kong to get into the thriving shipping business, while my maternal grandfather brought my mom and her seven sisters from mainland China to Hong Kong for a better life under the British occupation. My parents met while working in a hotel and I was born here. In the divorce, my mother got custody and I guess since she likes stability, I have always stayed in Hong Kong with her.
4. Are you guilty of any of the things that you hate too?
Clinginess, gluttony, talking too much, forgetfulness, losing my temper, being rude in the morning, being disorganized, and Christmas greed.
5. For a young person, you spend a lot of time on your blog, what do you gain from this experience?
I get to write on a daily basis, so that (hopefully) improves my writing skills and helps me with sticking to a routine. The people in my life are already very enjoyable to be around, but here, I get to meet a far greater number of interesting and unique individuals. I've always been intrigued by humans and human behavior (which is why I want to study anthropology next year) and blogging is perfect for that.
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If you’d like to play along, just follow these instructions:
* Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.”
* I will respond by giving you five questions in a comment on your blog. I get to pick the questions.
* You will update your blog with the answers to the questions. Be sure you link back to the original post.
* You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
* When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
Dear Dad,
You don't know me very well but if there's one thing you should know, it's that I have a tendency to deny that I'm a young talented writer, one with the natural gift for finding the right words to say at the right time but this... this is undoubtedly one of the hardest things I've ever had to write.
If you're reading this, it probably means that I worked up the courage to link you to this blog or send this to you in the form of a written letter. It could also mean that you've used your 'brilliant' skills of private investigation to dig up this particular aspect of your big boy's life, which, in turn, would mean you've become slightly more obsessive since I last spoke to you five months ago. Either way, you're reading this, so good for me, and good for you, for I hold a strong belief in the sanctity of honesty between family members. Everybody deserves truth.
I get the feeling that you've been served truth throughout the seventeen years that I've known you. You don't handle it very well. I look at your alcoholism, your addiction to the cigarettes, your money problems and your concupiscent engagement with prostitutes in God Knows Where and I have listened to you explain to me time and time again why you're not an asshole. I don't mind any of those bad habits. I don't mind at all. I don't even mind your two divorces and I don't mind your negligence toward your three other children.
But the thing I just can't help but take issue with is how you treat me and how you see me. You know, you have tried to teach me how to be a man and often I feel like I have failed you. I feel useless in your eyes because you seem to think that I don't know what life is about, that I am naive and I don't know how to life a successful happy life. I have to ask, who are you to judge me? What have you ever truly wanted and desired in your life besides a good fuck? I know you remember the night where you cried to me about your failures in life and you asking me not to be another failure in the Rivera family. Don't you know your son tries so hard to be better? Don't you know he tries so hard to grow up beyond his years?
I have very few friends because of you. I'm always serious and I never know how to take things lightly. I'm not a child. That's all because of you but I'm fine with it. You don't seem to be fine with yourself after your forty-five years of experience and you don't have the right, not even the parental right, to judge me and think that I'm not living my life in the 'right' or 'wrong' way.
There's no easy way to say this so I'll just say it. I hate you and I don't have the slightest iota of love in my heart that belongs to you. I was an accident. I was a mistake. Even though you and Mom both regarded me as some sort of a perfect storm, she was the one that has always treated me like I was. Perhaps it comes with her job of being a teacher but either way, I know you would agree that she's been a great mother to me, one full of devotion and care and one that always carried the ability to accept me, be my friend and teach me how to find love in this world but what have you ever given me - besides the booze, the money and the time of day where nobody else wanted to be with you?
You know you had me and my mother back in the day. You know you had your second wife and your three children before you got divorced the second time. This isn't about when she cheated on you. I'm talking about your cheating on her and your lack of effort to keep a marriage together when you first got married. It wasn't the children that screwed you over. It wasn't your wives that screwed you over either. Blaming your failures on anything other than yourself is such a sore loser thing to do. It was you.
You are the part of me that makes me think I am unfit to be a father. You are the one that's passed on your anger and arrogance to me. I used to think that I was stubborn just like you but the truth is that I am capable of change and have done so. You are the one that's always been stubborn. You are the one that nobody wants to forgive because it's futile. I'm very happy with who I am. You are the one that will always be the way you are and I don't know if you're happy with it but because of who you are, that's it.
I'm leaving you behind.
Michael.
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