113 - It's that time again.

I'm not that entirely sure of what I should type in this vast, white space that Blogger provides me with to rant, rave and ramble about my personal thoughts and happenings, my mind is quite blank itself, just like the canvas that I now imprint my words on to, empty like the plate I fed myself from an hour or so ago that's now in the dishwasher, cleared and cleaned, leaving the bare china for use once again. But I feel obliged to say something because it is New Year's Eve, and because 2010 arrives at my chronological doorstep in less than three hours.

So, I guess the standard action to take would be to talk about what I've done and learned in 2009. Honestly, I've done and learned a lot, but I don't wish to bore you with the details right now. So perhaps I will just give you a list, because I like lists:

 - I turned 18.
 - All of my friends turned 18.
 - I went through my high school exams.
 - I got paid for the first time, working a bartending job.
 - I said goodbye to everybody I knew.
 - I moved to England, and met a lot of people at university.
 - For the first time in a long time, I didn't spend my winter holidays in Hong Kong.
 - I found ways to deal with sadness, loneliness and confusing friendships.
 - My bond with my parents and my best friend grew even stronger.
 - I continued to blog and now have plans to publish a book next May.

2009 could've been a really emotional year. A lot more emotional than it actually turned out to be. But I think I fulfilled the resolution I made last year, which was to learn how to control my emotions, and be more positive in my everyday life. Becoming an official adult meant that I had to stop reacting so childishly and impulsively to bad things happening to me, moving to England and meeting new people tested my inner strength and forced me to find happiness and comfort from within, and working as a bartender in the summer meant that I had to practice customer service and be more tolerant of annoying people.

While going through all of this, I've now found a new set of challenges too. I've found that time management is something I'm really lacking. I don't know how to sort out myself to fit my sleeping time, my working time, my studying time, my socializing time and my relaxing time into the same schedule. With my current prospects to publish a Do you hate it too? book, and manage six or seven blogs by the end of next year, while juggling my second year of university, finding a house to live in next September, and starting to get serious about my trip around the world in seven years, I have to work hard at trying to comprehend the exact essence of which time is.

With the management of time comes the management of my money, my learning capabilities, my priorities, and my sense of responsibility. Basically, my New Year resolution, I think, will be to strive for orderliness and organization in my life.

All the while, making sure I continue to keep my emotions in check, of course. We don't want the past coming back to haunt me.

So, I've already prepared a fairly detailed schedule that gives me space to work, read, sleep, eat, blog, watch TV, and do other useless crap (e.g., Facebook, Sporcle, Twitter, sleep some more...). I'm confident that the schedule will be effective and that the idea of it being a new year, being a new chance, will keep me motivated enough to actually fulfill this resolution like I did with the last one I made.

If you've come over here from Do you hate it too?, once again, I say Happy New Year, my readers.

If you didn't, then I give you a virtual hug and wish you all the best in 2010.

Remember guys, if all is looking glum, there's always a way to work things out. E-mail me if you ever need to. Just keep in mind the message passed down to us by Winston Churchill: If you're going through Hell, keep going.

112 - The day my father dies

One thing that has never come up in my everyday ponderings is the prospect of my dad dying. I know it sounds terrible to think about my father's death, but let me just explain how my emotional system works.

I don't like watching people or hearing about people being stricken by tragedy. I don't like knowing people can feel devastated, or torn apart. Most of the time this happens, is when people get too used to taking life for granted. They take the people around them, they take the things they've got for granted, and it's only a matter of time before some unknown force takes it away, because the reality in this universe is nothing lasts forever.

Something as tragic as my father's death is undoubtedly going to affect me. I shouldn't even be allowed to blog if I thought his death wouldn't affect me, due to how disturbingly stoic and inhumane that kind of reaction would be. However, the one thing that I can reduce is the shock factor. The one thing I can control is whether I feel something has been taken away from me, or has merely been lost. I don't want to feel that God will have taken away my dad. Especially with the information I have, I shouldn't feel that way.

My dad takes drugs. My dad drinks. My dad smokes. One would normally take these facts, and say they worry about their father's health, and that would be the end of that train of thought. It would be a dark piece of information lodged in the back of their mind, and they wouldn't think of it any further because they would be afraid to think of that dreadful day. Everyone wants their parents to grow old, to watch our growth, and to live a long and prosperous life.

But being afraid to think of death is what causes that sense of surprise. Having faith in life lasting forever is what makes us overwhelmed by grief. Which brings me back to why I imagine how his death is going to go beforehand. 

I picture myself in my bedroom, at my computer, in the five-person house I will rent with the English friends I've met at university. Or perhaps I will be walking out of a lecture, and as I do so, checking my phone for any missed calls. Any way it happens, it'll probably be my mother who tells me how, where and when my father happened to die in Hong Kong. I would be surprised by the news then, but I will not feel dismayed, shaken up, or awe-stricken.

I would tell my mother when I would fly back to Hong Kong as soon as possible. I would notify my housemates of what happened, and what will happen in the next few months, and will probably shed a bucketful of tears as I do so. I would fly back on the plane, quiet the whole time. On my arrival back in Hong Kong, many days will be spent organizing and discussing with my family what will be done with my father's body, and how we will commiserate him. Nobody will really care to ask me if I want to talk about what just happened. They will just assume I do, when really I don't. It'll be annoying, but I can't and won't blame them.

A couple weeks later, his funeral will happen, and I will be there in the front row, directly in front of a portrait picture of him, with his ashes or coffin situated behind it. The suit I will wear will be the most expensive outfit I will have ever purchased. Outside, it will not be sunny that day. It won't be cloudy either. It will just be normal weather conditions, semi-sunny, semi-overcast. I won't wear a tie. My face will be blank. Maybe I'll wear sunglasses, like how my father wore sunglasses at his dad's funeral. The church would be silent, just the way I like it, besides the words of the reverend that will perform the ceremony.

Standing behind and beside me will my three half-sisters of which my father also beared, my paternal grandmother, my aunts, my uncles, and my cousins on my father's side, as well as my father's co-workers, my father's friends, and three of my best friends and my mother who I invited for my own moral support.

I might speak about my father to the people who attend that day. After all, I am his son and I am a writer. I don't know what I will say, but I don't need to start writing that any time soon.

But that's already past the important part.

The important part will have been when I stand in front of his picture and say goodbye in my heart.

And as the days go by from now until that day, whatever may change externally will be countered by some change in this image that I have constructed, promptly and appropriately. Like if it turns out that I get an apartment by myself next school year, then I suppose I don't have to tell those housemates I originally planned to live with. That's how the grief reduction program works.

This system works every time. The system prevented anxiety attacks when it came to my final high school examinations, because I prepared myself mentally for glorious success and dismal failure. The system helped me face my summer job, knowing how to balancing inner confidence and the idea that I might get fired at any point I was working. The system saved me months of depression in the last few weeks I was in Hong Kong, on the plane ride to England, and for the past four months in university when I had perfectly good reason to feel weak and lonely.

Before I came to England, I imagined myself crying every night, missing home. And I now imagine crying every night after my father dies. In doing so, I live the experience once already in my head. There will be no heartbreak anymore because I've already had it broken. It's not to say I don't care about my father anymore. I'm not saying he's dead to me. I still care about him, my mother, and all of my family and friends. But I feel that I need to be strong, and I need to take care of myself. As people sometimes say, you can't look after others until you learn to look after yourself.

That's what I'm doing. That's what I just did, today. I went through the day my father dies. I will be fine on that day. They will say, "Wow, Michael. You're handling this incredibly well. I can't even begin to figure out how you do it."

And what you have just read is my explanation in full.

111 - My maternal grandparents

Eighteen years and seven months ago, I was born in Hong Kong. My aunt accompanied my mother back to my grandparent's apartment, the 4th flat on the 7th floor. Our family has had 704 for over forty years. That place is not just home to them, but is home to all eight of their daughters too. After my parents got divorced, it became my home.

Somewhere along the way, I had the opportunity, or experience, of living with my father, which turned out to be rather awesome. While he was at work, I spent time with his personable wife and his three fun-loving, laid-back daughters. Dad's house (or Dad's houses as he always moved a lot) was home to me too.

Somewhere along the way, I attained, as lame as it sounds, what you could only describe as a 'best friend'. His parents know me, and trust me, his younger brother knows he can call me in times of trouble. I call their humble Filipino family my home as well.

Somewhere along the line, my mother moved out of my grandparents' apartment, in an act of great motherly sacrifice, to give me my own room - her room - as I was finally becoming a very demanding teenage boy. I've stayed at the place she now owns, and I also call it one of my homes.

Although I had all of these places for my choosing, the one place I always went back to at the end of the night, the home I yearned for when I had other obligations throughout the night, was always my grandparents' apartment. The sense of familiarity and familial attachment, I feel, was mutual. My grandparents wanted me at their place every night as well.

In the weeks leading up to my departure from Hong Kong, I could feel a general sense of internal struggle and hardship every time I was around them. I was working a bartending job too, that often meant I had to leave before lunch time and not return until late in the night. I barely even spoke to them for eighty percent of the summer holiday.

In the final two weeks I was in Hong Kong, I was often waiting for the moment when I would start crying like a baby, missing everything, wanting to stay, suddenly hating the idea of coming to England. I guess I built it up too much in my head that I had tired the emotions out. I remember I cried about leaving my mother's side, and as I sit here typing this, I actually cry. All the emotions that I had when I was alone in my room as I was still going to high school all come back to me the minute I think about it. I cried about my dad. I cried about leaving my 4-year-old cousin. I cried about leaving my job. I cried about leaving my best friend.

But when it finally came to the moment I had to take one last look at my room in 704, I didn't cry at all. I had already shared my final conversations with all of classmates, all of my friends, all of my coworkers, and pretty much all of my family.

And then as I was heading out the door, my grandparents were standing there in the corridor, waiting to send me off. And I could see the bittersweetness that rested in their eyes. I'm crying at the moment, because the love I get from them is so surreal to me, it's so incredible, it's so unbelievable. You would typically think there was a generation gap, and quite frankly there is, and we did not share anything much in terms of conversation or material gifts, but the one thing we did share was that apartment, and our time living together.

In the thirteen weeks I was having my summer break, I had not wept at all. But it was in that moment when my grandmother looked at me with teary eyes, telling me to study hard, make sure to eat healthy, and most important of all, be good, I finally found what what would strike my heart. My grandfather, at the door, told me to put in my best effort at university, and also, to be good.

The simplest lessons you learn in life are the least eloquently expressed, but are said by the wisest people. The words they share are like dying words to me, and it's so sad to think of it like that, but that's the truth. Both are over seventy years old, both have medical issues of their own.

And to hear them say things like that really touches my heart in a uniquely confusing way.

I took the elevator down from the 7th floor.

I put my luggage in the boot of the car and then got in.

I opened the window, and stuck my head out the window to get my last look at them. I waved goodbye until the car went round the bend and a building blocked them from view.

Today, I just received a box with Christmas presents from my 1st aunt, 4th aunt, 8th aunt, and my mother. I was grateful for the gifts, and I loved seeing my mother's handwriting on the cards explaining what everything was and who it was from.

At the bottom of the box, I found a jumper and a card next to it, and it turns out it was from my grandmother. She wrote 'Merry Christmas' in Chinese, and her traditional style of calligraphy was always so distinctive, and it made me picture her writing the card. That's what triggered the idea to talk about this here... I miss my home, so much. I miss my grandparents so much. I can talk to my parents and my friends whenever I want, but I can't talk to them because they don't know how, and it drives me crazy...

Ohh... let me get myself together...

Ahem. Well, my aunts are going to set up a webcam chat thing with them on Christmas Day, so I'll see my beloved grandparents then. It's just been a very hectic final week of university, and I reckon I'm a little stressed out. Good thing I get to sleep tonight without worrying about handing in any assignments.

Crying's good for the soul, it really is. When was the last time you cried?

110 - On a blogger I recently met

At some point in time a number of years ago, I had a friend who had a falling out with me over my arrogance and immaturity. I confess to this, it was all my fault, and I see it now. I was obsessed with popularity. I was a bully. I was unreflective, inconsiderate, racist, sexist, stuck up, and spoiled, not just in terms of money, but also when it came to the friends and family I, at the time, didn't realize I had to treasure.

This ex-friend of mine also writes a blog, and I check in on it every other day to get an update on his life. Whether he reads mine, or whether he knows I read his, I don't know. And I don't think I'll find out any time soon.

Unsurprisingly, we still share the same mutual friends. We were a tight group back in the day. Four guys, four girls, not necessarily a spider web of eight mutual bonds, but altogether, fairly harmonious, chill, fun company.

I find it kind of weird when my closest friends tell me about him, how he said this in a conversation the other day, or how they're going to meet up with him tomorrow. I feel a bit weird reading about his life without talking to him otherwise. I think it's weird just thinking about him.

For a long time, I've been thinking about meeting a blogger in real-life. I have a feeling that day's not far.

But here I am in a different situation. I knew this guy in real-life. And now I know him only through his blog.

109 - On judging criminal acts

Have you ever done anything, or wanted to do anything, that you know will not be look at lightly by others, because you know it's ethically controversial area you're treading on? I'm thinking of things that stir up a whirlwind of emotion inside you, as the thrill of trying not to get caught compels you to do it, to continue to do it, things that are immoral and wrong, yet you deem to be necessary for your well-being, or maybe perhaps even your survival? There's also the tinge of fear that comes with being judged by the people who know you, from maybe having to face disappointed loved ones if they ever found out, from having to face the isolation people may subject you to, if you were ever going to get caught.

Four years ago, I was expelled from my first secondary school for stealing money. I'm not going to get into the details of such pilferage, but let's just say that I deserved to get kicked out.

At the time, I thought I had to steal, and I truly believed that there was no other way for me to enjoy life if I did not steal. Of course I bloody Hell knew it was wrong to do so, but I did it anyway because I felt I needed to. I'm not going to sugarcoat it - I was greedy, I was selfish, and I didn't care what my close ones thought of me - I did it. And if I could go back and make that decision again, I would, with a hundred-percent certainty, steal again.

I tend not to judge people who are caught for committing crimes, in terms of these actions that are often so clear-cut immoral in the eyes of society. I don't like looking at things that way, I dislike looking at things from the majority's perspective. I guess I have an irrational fear of being normal. (I tried to look up the technical phobic term for fear of conformity, but sadly couldn't find one. They should invent a term for it.)

Anyway, if everybody thinks someone is acting crazy, I try to help said maniac and listen to what their problems are. If everyone hates this guy for being a total idiot, I will go and talk to him, and tell him that he needs to change his ways. And if I found out somebody got expelled - I wouldn't blame him. Everybody has their reasons to do things, and every situation can be looked at differently. Why judge him? How does that help? What if you were put in that situation? Would you want to be abandoned? Would you want to be judged?

108 - On couples

By the way, I've decided to change all the titles of my blog posts here to begin with "On ________". Oftentimes, I'm not quite sure what to call my entries, and I feel that with this new style of appellation, this new idiosyncrasy, it will help me in the art of naming my blog posts.

Today, I want to talk about couples, and not being in a couple, but being around them. Recently, I've become friends with a couple, and I really like how I can just mosey into the girl's room and watch a movie with the two of them. I like having breakfast with them every morning, and just hanging out with them if I don't want to stay in my room by myself.

I like being friends with both individuals of a couple, and over the years, this has often happened. It's nice to hang out with them as friends, to see their sweetness that they probably wouldn't display in front of others, to see how they feed off of each other's humor, their compatibility that you wouldn't have known had you not seen it working in front of your eyes, their synchronicity, their unity, is admirable, and pleasant to observe.

Obviously, I'm not allowed to hang around when they're gettin' busy, or when they're sharing intimate, personal information with one another. But to their command, I walk out of that room without feeling expelled, without feeling banished - it's okay, because I know it's between them. Just like I would expect them to feel if I was with someone.

107 - On blogging and the busy life

It's getting to the time of the year where it really is a true testament to how dedicated I really am with my blogging. I said I would write in all my blogs regularly, but the simple fact of the matter is - inspiration and creativity only comes to you in patches, for only certain times in a given day, week, month, year, or point in your life. There's also the added matter of having to live with a billion others things to do as well. Oh, the perilous life of university murders my soul... 

I find that I'm feeling really writery (writerish?) right now, so I think the only way I'm ever going to manage getting something published frequently on all three of my current blogs, is if I just prepare posts beforehand right here, right now, as I feel imaginative, innovative, prolific with ideas.

Don't you think that's so smart?

I think it's genius. But whether I'm going to get distracted while I'm in the middle of writing this upcoming week's posts is an issue of concern. Oh, well. Let's see what happens.

106 - On my parents' life lessons

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...

105 - On experience and actions

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Obviously, I hate it just as much as everyone else when people quarrel with each other, but then again, I also love listening to people argue because it is only then do you really see what people are thinking, what people want, and what people are truly like inside.

Often in these altercations, I have found that people sometimes use their backbone of experience as justification for why their point of view is right. They say they have demonstrated in the past that they have a moral code, maturity, the capability of understanding others, so on and so forth, and so we must conclude that their perspective is the one and only 'right' way of looking at what led to the argument.

"I'm always polite to everyone, so I don't see why I can't be rude just this once with you."  "I've met dozens of other people like you, and I've never had a problem with them."  "I have been through this before, and I think your behavior was fairly out of line."

At the end of the day, who really cares what you've done, or even what you do, so long as you smile and be kind to the people around you. If you upset somebody, apologize and let's all move on. How can you use the past as a premise to conclude you're right?

In the end, your actions speak louder than words, your actions demonstrate the kind of person you are, your actions form the reality of this particular experience you're experiencing right here, right now, so don't go claiming you're correct in the way you think because of the goodness you've shown in the past, when people are obviously upset by what you chose to do in the present moment, and frankly, it's just too damn bad that the kind of person you are, with all that experience behind you, would resort to making some poor decisions like that now.

104 - On my guts

Well, it's been a very long day, but I have nobody to blame but myself, because I chose to wake up at around two in the morning. I could've gone back to sleep, but instead, I decided I would finish off my new blog, get a Twitter account for Do you hate it too?, one for myself, and also create a fan page on Facebook. I also did some reading on conducting ethnographic research in past civilizations - it proved to be difficult to stay awake, but it's now more than eighteen hours later, and I'm still here.

For most of the day, I was feeling scared inside.

I am scared about how I will feel after I announce the launch of all those things, I don't know what I expect - if I want a lot of the attention, or if I might get freaked out by it. I was certainly freaked out when I found out that people were writing reviews about me without telling me. (I hate it when people read my blog but don't tell me.)

I often ask myself if I want to be recognized. I ponder it all the time, because it takes a lot of guts to be a person with a widely known name and personality. It takes guts to devote so much time to something like blogging, instead of doing something else that might be practical and productive. It takes guts to self-publish a book. And it takes guts to pour your thoughts, your memories and your feelings out on a public forum where just about anybody can (and actually is everybody that) reads it.

I'm not always sure I have the guts. Most of the time, I like to give off the impression that I do, but those who truly know me, know that I have a lot of fat question marks, sitting on broomsticks, flying around inside my head. I know I doubt my own ability. Worse yet, I doubt my own potential. All I can feel comfortable with admitting are my mistakes, my downsides, the reasons why not.

I wonder why that is. Maybe it's just the way I was brought up. My mother and father, if my memory serves me right, never really gave me impressionable advice on how to live my life. It was always something about what I did wrong, or what they did wrong, or how not to live my life. Don't point at strangers, don't use that bowl to microwave food, and don't ever get married. And maybe that's why that is the way I see things, I am always accustomed to seeing things in contradiction, my moral compass consisting of a giant list of double negatives.

lol. I chuckle at my own words. I admire my own phrasing. One positive thing about myself that I'm quite happy to admit is that I'm funny. Another positive thing is the fact that I'm good at writing - at least for my own entertainment. Sad, I know, but how often have you gone back to read your own written words and found it entertaining, huh?

Oh, Michael. Too often you look at yourself like you're another person, whenever you get depressed or high or tired or drunk. 

Is it a coping strategy? I think so. 

Is it weird? I think so.

Should I stop? I think so.

103 - On my big dreaming

I've been thinking about getting a Twitter account, but am not entirely sure if I'm up for it. There's a lot of ideas brewing in my mind at the moment, and I think I want to list them all out just so I can then focus on what I want to do. So here it goes:

My profile
I don't like my profile. I don't know why. I'll have to perhaps wipe it all off and start on a clean canvas just to paint the perfect picture I want.

Do you hate it too?
I need to keep posting daily, and I need to sign on to more blog directories and communities (like Twitter). I might possibly do a slight reformatting as well, but nothing too drastic, just maybe add a few more widgets and fun stuff on the side bars. As for The Book, I will need to start picking out fifty posts, what I reckon would sell to consumers everywhere, put them in a single word document, do a bit of editing and formatting. I need to pitch a concept for the cover to my best friend, who is quite skilled in the world of photography and graphic design. My other close friend might also be interested in writing a foreword for me. [To-do reading: the publishing process, marketing and advertising, how to work together with your mom, how to be even funnier]

"If you're going through Hell, keep going."
I sometimes feel like this blog is a bit of a mixture of loads of different blog themes put together. Sometimes, I talk about my travels, sometimes I talk about my past, sometimes I talk about my feelings, and sometimes I just post up a Youtube video. Despite the versatility, I feel that it's not really encapsulating my whole self - I still don't talk about the TV shows I watch, the anthropology course I study, the books I read, or where I want to go in the future. In the end, I meant for this to be about my daily life, and it's just really difficult to stay focused on that, when everything else also occupies my mind. Which is why my solution is going to be...

Anthropology blog
I've been doing quite a lot of reading since I've been here in university, and it's starting to get on my nerves how long it's taking me to actually announce the commencement of this blog. The problem is that I just haven't sat down yet to get started on posting anything on it, and well, now I'm pissed at myself, to be honest. So, I vow to post something on there this weekend, because it has to start some time. And if I just can't be bothered, I know I'll be guilted into doing on Monday morning, I'm sure of it. [To-do reading: nature of anthropological study, history of mankind, Sicilian women, the Kwaio, the Azande, loads of other societies...]

Youtube blog
I have a good friend who lives in Hong Kong, and whenever I ask her what she's doing, more often than not, she's going on Youtube. I, myself, have found a lot of funny, intriguing, thought-provoking videos there, and I thought it would be a good idea to start a blog with this friend of mine. Together, we find one video to post on it everyday, and whoever found the video will briefly talk about why it's worthy of your attention. I'm quite excited about this, but with our schedules, we said we would officially release this blog in mid-February. But anyway, just something to think about for now. [To-do reading: video-sharing rights, joint ventures]

Television blog
I felt like I wasn't being myself with that television blog I started, and consequentially, shut down a couple months back. I was being forced to write about everything when I didn't want to, I wrote reviews for some reason. What I really wanted to write about instead was about the thoughts that TV shows provoked in me, because writers put forward ideas that sometimes make quite an impact on the way I think after watching them. I'll try and get to reopening that one around the holiday season, 'cause I was quite unhappy that that didn't work out the first time.

Travel blog
When I turn 25, my best friend and I are leaving our lives behind to travel the entire world in all its power and beauty for however long it takes. We mean it when we say we'll do it, and everything we're doing in the next seven years is to make that voyage possible. We're learning languages, we're doing a lot of reading, and we're only in university, and soon to be working, so that we can earn money to give us steady beginnings as we get accustomed to the traveler's life when we first set out. In my reading, I've been finding a lot of interesting things about how to prepare for such a trip, and information on a lot of places we might want to visit on the trip. This journey requires a whole lot of planning (seven years worth of it), so perhaps compiling them in a blog as a pre-world trip logbook might interest some readers? [To-do reading: travelogues, other world trip experiences, travel destinations]

Hm. I feel a bit better now, 'cause all of that was getting difficult to keep in my head. All six blogs, I have passion for, but I'm a tad concerned about whether I can handle it. Somewhere in my heart, I know that the hard work will pay off, and that this is one of those things that I'm meant to do in this stage of my life. I play no musical instruments, and I do no sports - this is my talent, and I have to embrace it. All I can do is hope for personal fulfillment, recognition and happiness, so might as well hope for more... might as well dream big.

102 - On banging my knee

I was taking off my socks just now, and as I raised my left leg up, I hit my knee on the edge of my desk. I managed to hit the funny bone in my knee, whatever that is, one of those pressure points that cause extreme pain, and I basically just fell off my chair (as I only had one foot on the ground for stability), and collapsed on to the floor. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me, and I couldn't even bring myself to shout or cuss. I banged by knee, and created a thud on the floor, and now I'm wondering how little things like that happen in our everyday life but never get mentioned due to the insignificance of it.

So I'm talking about it here, right now. Pain is funny. And thought-provoking.

101 - On comfort, complacency and contentness

I'm not going to lie - I miss home. I miss the food especially, the clubbing district, and doing something everyday with my friends or either one of my parents. It seems that everybody I know is going to go back to Hong Kong this winter holiday, leave their university lives in Canada, the US and the UK, and go back to my home city for Christmas and New Year's break.

My return flight to Hong Kong is scheduled for July 10th, and although that is a long while away from today, I look at it in the following way.

The anticipation of my return had been building up, and will continue building up, and the longer I'm away from home, the more excited I get to actually go back, I look forward to going home, but I'm not moaning about it, asking God why it's not happening sooner. I know the truth is that I'm staying here, I've accepted it, I'm not letting it bother me, and I'm looking at it in a positive way.

I've discovered that I've grown up a lot since four or five years ago. I like the way in which I approach relationships, schoolwork, life, the social scene, and tough decisions when they arise. In a way, I'm not troubled by anything, I'm not worried and I'm confident in the way I handle things. I don't need reassurance from others, I don't need to depend on anyone else to keep me elevated. I elevate myself to a psychological, emotional state that is comfortable, complacent, and content.

Feels good, like nobody can touch me. Hah.

100 - On my love for writing 'Do you hate it too?'

I've thought about the book thing and I have realized that I want to publish a Do you hate it too? book for the same three reasons I have written Do you hate it too? from the very beginning. The three reasons are:

1) I easily get annoyed by a lot of things, and typing it all down helps relieve stress,
2) and to present my ramblings to the world would mean that I am forced to think carefully about how I write, in order to successfully communicate with readers,
3) and as readers go through my work, they are able to relate, to share their stories which I enjoy reading, to catch a break from their busy lives, and perhaps get a good laugh out of it.

Never has this been for earning money, or fame - the greatest joy for me has always come in entertaining others, and knowing that as I blog, I am continuously refining my sense of written style and my sense of humor.

So what if it's a funny, silly book? It still sells, and the sole reason I believe that it would sell is because the premise for my blog has already 'sold' to hundreds of viewers already.

There are millions of people without the Internet, without computers, who prefer holding text in their hands, as opposed to reading it on a screen. I can reach a greater number of people, attract more viewers to my blog, and there is, of course, that short, sweet little aside - the fact that I might get money from it - that may help fund my own education and life-living.

And if it all doesn't work, it would still be a good experience, and I can take away from it the pride in knowing that I effing tried.

Your comments since I wrote my last post really helped me focus again on why I still do this. Thank you so much, and I promise you guys a mention in the acknowledgments, and a signed copy of the book when it hits the shelves. *wink*

99 - On a 'Do you hate it too?' book.

If you have read my last entry on Do you hate it too?, you will know that my blog has been well-praised. This got my mother very excited, and she pushed an idea forward for me to consider: publishing a Do you hate it too? book.

When I first began doing this about a year ago, I had already begun to think about compiling them all up one day and putting them in a publication. 'Why I didn't do it earlier' is a question I often answered with weak claims that I'm too lazy, can't be bothered, or haven't got the time for, but to be entirely truthful, it's because I don't think it's good enough. I still feel like it really is just me giving a childish rant everyday, and honestly, what contribution to the world do I give, by exerting negativity within the blogosphere?

I know I make people laugh, but in the end, I cannot collaborate with, let's say, an anger management-orientated business, seeing as I don't offer tips on how to deal with the hates I write about. I don't give advice on how to use the English language, or how to deal with stress, or how to focus on thinking positively - even though that's what you would associate with my blog, if it were just a little bit different.

But it is the way that it is, and being an active consumer of the book-selling market myself, I know that this would merely sell as one of those silly books uncles buy for their nieces, and mothers would refuse to spend money on for their children. 'How about this novel on vampires, sweetie', 'Check out this book about dinosaurs' and 'Trevor, come see if you'd like this one full of brain teasers' they would chime. The blatent truth is, I believe Do you hate it too? is silly.

I need people who can change my mind about this, so if you have any words of encouragement, please share them with me, because I'm in a place with no self-confidence right now. I would love to begin this whole adventure right now, to find a distributor, to format a book, to sell it online, and to watch it sell on shelves in Hong Kong, Canada, the US and the UK. I probably would anyway to my mother's insistence, even if I still don't believe in the book.

But I know that if I don't believe in my own work, it won't be a success.

Sigh. What do you think? Any words of advice?

98 - On being Over The Top!

Do you hate it too? has been awarded the Over The Top award by Marcy over at Tales of the Kids. Thank you, Marcy. I know my blog is founded on negativity and is very much a spectacular public showcase of my hypocrisy and acrimony. I have no shame in admitting that it is, indeed, over the top.

Here are the rules for this award:

1. Choose 5 stand out blogs.

2. Thank the blogger who gave you this Award.

3. Answer the questions below with only one word.

Where is your phone? Here
Your hair? Wet
Your Mother? Work
Your Father? Smoking
Favorite food? Faraway (It is a legitimate word, people!)
Your dream last night? None
Favorite drinks? Margarita
Your dreams? Travel
What room are you in? University
Your hobby? Blogging
Your fear? Frogs
Where do you want to be in six years? Gotham (Aside from being the home of Batman, it's a nickname for New York City.)
Where were you last night? Bed
Something you're not? Studying
Muffins? Fine
Wish List Item? Money
Last thing you did? Shower
What are you wearing? Towel
Your pets? Future
Your friends? Singular
Your life? Interesting
Your mood? Swings
Missing someone? Somewhere
Your vehicle? None
Something you're not wearing? Earrings
Your favorite color? Blue
When was the last time you laughed? Earlier
Last time you cried? October
Your best friend? Love
One place you go over and over? Toilet
One person that e-mails you? Fangirls
Favorite place to eat? Honkers (A nickname for Hong Kong.)

Hmm, blogs that are over the top...

Fish's plentymorefishoutofwater
Douglas' Boomer Musings
Rachel May's i still love your tits
J.J.'s The World According to J.J.
Eugene's Solviter

They really are over the top. (You guys are crazy.)

97 - On insomnia.

I have an aversion to sleep - although, nowadays, I often pass out on my bed anyway - something I didn't do before. Back in my heyday, around four, five, six years ago, I would go on living with around only five hours of sleep per week. I loved to stay up late, I felt so great having so much time to play pointless online games (after completing all of my homework, of course), and read stuff online.

Now, I feel like my quota for time spent awake is finally running low. I can't help but to fall asleep, sometimes at the most obscure and inconvenient times - right before a lecture, right before a party, right before the sun comes up, right before lunchtime. I'm trying to stay awake, and when my mind can't take it any longer, it compels me to draw the curtains shut, turn the lights off, and simply catch some desperately needed rest, whether or not I have somewhere to be in a few hours, regardless of whether or not I believe I'm going to be able to get up later or not. My case is serious, because I will really throw away all of my obligations and responsibilities—my classes, my family time, my job—just to stay in bed another five minutes longer, ten minutes longer, oops, what time is it?... eight hours have gone by?... I'm screwed, might as well go back to sleep... ZZZzzzzzz.........

Honestly, I have Googled ways to increase insomnic ability. It's a little bit sad, and that's right, I call it an ability. Because if I could just push through another few hours without rest each day, I would be able to do so much more. The pile of things I wish I could tend to gets taller and taller everyday, and at an exponential rate. I've been warned before, about how it's bad for my skin, and bad for my eyes, and bad for my brain to stay awake over overly long hours of the day, but I don't care. I want to sleep less. It's only because I used to be the best at it back in the day that makes me stubborn, and in denial of the fact that I'm not the young man I was a few years ago, capable of doing things that my now tired body cannot.

Sigh.

96 - On my first time in London

So, last weekend, I went to spend some time with my old friends in London. It was great to see them again, and to do so in London, the capital of the United Kingdom. When I was in Hong Kong, I remember dreaming about the times I would have in University College London (UCL), but unfortunately, I didn't achieve good enough results to attend UCL, and so I settled for the University of Kent in Canterbury instead. It's okay because Canterbury has proven to be an okay place to study too, just a bit far away from all the fun, interesting things that they have to do in London. It's costly to get there and come back, but I thought that it was a good trip regardless.

I loved the British Museum, as I knew I would. I remember actually being there once before, with my mother four years ago when we went on a tour through Europe. We only walked through one level before, though, so it was good to finally explore all the galleries slowly. My mother never really knew how to appreciate the history of artifacts and such, although, she does have a strong liking for the Statue of David and any other Renaissance sculptures made of white marble. She likes the art, which I guess is the main thing, but she knows little of the actual background to each piece.

I'm also quite fond of the statues, but the Greek and Roman antiquities are my favorite. Although Greek pottery may not appeal to everyone, I personally could spend all day standing there, comparing the Greek myths, in writing, to what's actually depicted by the black-figures on the reddish-brown vases.

The nightlife in London resembles that of Hong Kong, only bigger, noisier, more crowded, and more versatile. I quite like the atmosphere, so I think I'll be going back there.

Food is also better there, as there's more variety and quality to it. Although I didn't buy anything to eat from Camden Market, it looked like a buffet of multinational cuisine. Looked like a great place to shop, as well.

All in all, not a very exciting trip, but a trip nonetheless, and a good break from studying. I love seeing my old friends so much, and wish I could see them everyday, and there's something about hugging them once again that's different from simply communicating with them online that makes it a whole lot better. I miss my friends in Hong Kong, especially my best friend. Next summer, I'm going to make up for it hopefully.

95 - On being lazy

When was the last time you finished a book?

The last time I did was over a month ago, and I find that's quite a shame. There's so much to get done here at university, that you don't even realize the days are flying by. It's already nearing November, and I haven't done any studying of any kind, I haven't started on any essays, I haven't found a part-time job, and I don't know - it seems like I haven't done anything except buy food, eat the food, go to sleep, relax in my room and engage in unproductive shenanigans on the computer.

I'm going to have to start getting serious, first, by tidying up my messy room with books, papers, and food spread out all over the desk, the nightstand, the shelves and the floor. Then, take some clothes to the laundry, and iron the clothes that came out of the laundry over a week ago.

Poo.

94 - On my epiphany

I like this blog-everyday thing. I feel coerced, but I like it. I have had a few troubled thoughts today, and normally, I would take the time to reflect on it into the late hours of the night, but since I've told myself and you that I'm going to blog everyday, I am going to say something here and now. I feel like it's almost supposed to happen, and if not, I would be denying something. It feels right to blog about this, even though I usually wouldn't have. Here it goes:

There was a time in my life when I was having a fruity alcoholic beverage, while also eating spaghetti at a poolside bar. I had a book on biological anthropology next to me, but it could have easily been a crime novel, a factual book on Peruvian history, or something in the horror genre. The beach was about a minute's walk away, and the sun was beaming down on everything, from the bright red and white striped umbrellas, through the great expanse of water that formed the pool, to the couples kissing, the kids laughing, and the teenagers playing catch with a large, inflated beach ball, inside it. Thanks to said sunlit marvelousness, I was wearing sunglasses and Hawaiian-style shorts. It was pretty much paradise to me - and since that resort was aiming for that - I felt that the money I spent to go there was well worth it.

After I came back from that tropical island, I arrived back in my room in the apartment I lived in with my grandparents in Hong Kong, right in the middle of the city center, and I felt extremely heartbroken. The reason was because I was missing something, and only until today did I realize that that was taken from my heart was the warm sun, the gorgeous beach, and the relaxedness I experienced sitting by the pool with a drink in one hand, a book in the other, and delicious food laid out on a plate in front of me, with all the gorgeous sand, sea and sun nearby.

I have had an epiphany, and that is this: I want that for the rest of my life. That was my true happiness right there, and no amount of education, television, writing, clubbing, or any of the other things I've obsessed myself with in my whole life, will ever achieve that.

I want booze, books and beaches forever, and in thus realizing that, I need to do some serious thinking about what my next steps will be in achieving that, because obviously, that sort of life has to be earned.

I just find it's such a shame that the choices of made so far have led me down paths that I didn't want to go down. Getting rich and accomplished is good but it's materialistic. I want happiness from within, and that's it.

I will talk about this some more tomorrow. But for now, I think I feel better from releasing what was in my head. Until tomorrow, then, I suppose. Hooray for epiphanies. :)

93 - On guilt and innocence

I was tagged by AV, again, here, to do this thing where I have to say if I'm guilty or not of the things listed below. I find these things quite fun, and not that time-consuming at all, although, these posts of honesty usually raise a lot of questions, so they're loaded, which makes it annoying.

But, I'd be happy to respond, I guess. Here it goes:

RULE 1- You can only say Guilty or Innocent.

RULE 2- You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone comments and asks!

RULE 3- Copy and paste this into your notes , delete my answers, type in your answers and tag some blogger friends to answer this.

• Asked someone to marry you? Guilty.
• Ever kissed someone of the same sex? Guilty.
• Danced on a table in a bar? Guilty.
• Ever told a lie? Guilty.
• Had feelings for someone whom you can’t have back? Guilty.
• Kissed a picture? Guilty.
• Slept in until 5 PM? Guilty.
• Fallen asleep at work/school? Guilty.
• Held a snake? Guilty.
• Been suspended from school? Guilty.
• Worked at a fast food restaurant? Innocent.
• Stolen from a store? Guilty.
• Been fired from a job? Innocent.
• Done something you regret? Guilty.
• Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Guilty.
• Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Guilty.
• Kissed in the rain? Innocent.
• Sat on a roof top? Guilty.
• Kissed someone you shouldn't? Guilty.
• Sang in the shower? Guilty.
• Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Guilty.
• Shaved your head? Innocent.
• Had a boxing membership? Innocent.
• Made a boy/girlfriend cry? Innocent.
• Been in a band? Innocent.
• Shot a gun? Innocent.
• Donated Blood? Guilty.
• Eaten alligator meat? Innocent.
• Eaten cheesecake? Guilty.
• Still love someone you shouldn't? Guilty.
• Have/had a tattoo? Innocent.
• Liked someone, but will never tell who? Guilty.
• Been too honest? Guilty.
• Ruined a surprise? Guilty.
• Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you couldn't walk after wards? Guilty.
• Erased someone in your friends list? Guilty.
• Dressed in a woman’s clothes (if you’re a guy) or man’s clothes (if you’re a girl)? Innocent.
• Joined a pageant? Innocent.
• Been told that you’re handsome or beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? Guilty.
• Had communication with your ex? Innocent.
• Got totally drunk on the night before exam? Guilty.
• Got totally angry that you cried so hard? Guilty.

I'm not going to tag anybody, because I feel like I haven't been blogging regularly enough to have the moral right to make others blog. Whoever wants to do it can, though. Just be sure to let me know so I can take a look at it.

92 - On blogging daily

Hello, hello,

I'm going to try and do something I've never done with this blog, and that is to try to blog daily. I have set aside a time every day (11pm-11:30pm) to just insert a little post here for some reflections on the day and a little recount of what's been going on. I feel really nice reading the daily occurrences in the lives of other, more dedicated, bloggers, and I want to try and do that too.

This weekend has been incredibly lazy, and I have done nothing but catch up on my television series and play Pokémon on my NDS. I have a lot of reading I could be doing, but you know how it is - could have, should have, would have. I know that there will be some time soon when I'll be feeling really, really proactive, and will feel like working, but this weekend just wasn't it.

As for the new anthropology blog, I need to come up with a catchy title - any ideas? I still haven't even started laying it out yet. I will get right on it soon, and with any luck, something will be up by next weekend.

Oh, which reminds me, I am going to LONDON next weekend. Which I'm very excited about. Canterbury has honestly made me feel like a hermit, who lives in a small town of hermits, and I'm just so happy to know that I'm going to be going to be hitting Londontown, visit the British Museum and Soho and all that jazz soon.

This is such a filler post, but hopefully, I'll find something to talk about tomorrow. Adios for now, I hope you've enjoyed your weekend as much as I have, be it a lazy one or not.

91 - A new blog on its way (Exciting!)

Hello everybody out there, how are you?

There are prospects for an additional blog to my current two, and I'm really excited to tell you about it right here, right now! :D

If you're not already aware, I have moved to Canterbury, England, to study anthropology, after having lived in Hong Kong for all my life. Anthropology, put simply, is the study of humanity, in terms of its origins, and the social relationships amongst human beings. It's a very interesting course, and encompasses elements of many other subjects such as history, geography, sociology, evolutionary biology, economic and political organization, linguistics, kinship, primatology, law, religion, archaeology, and many more.

For a portion of my course, I am required to keep an anthropological diary to aid me in my anthropological studies. This means that every week, I must produce some sort of updated material on what I have learned in my courses, etc...

I was thinking that perhaps I could start a blog that was strictly to do with anthropology. This would really boost my mark up because I know that a lot of people in my course aren't accustomed to keeping anything blog-like in nature regularly. I hope to find something interesting about different cultures every week, and hopefully, by showing you something about a different social group every week, we will all gain something from this exchange. (I am also going to be pressurizing myself even more to work harder at my blogging everyday. I need the pressure. Pressure, pressure, pressure, come to Papa~)

(That was weird.)

I must thank one person before I start checking out all of your fantastic blogs, though, and that person is Argentum Vulgaris, who has had a part in inspiring me to actually do this with his blog, Tomus Arcanum. Every time I go on that blog, I always find something there about various societies and cultures, especially when I dig deep into his archives - he also has Astray in a Latin World, Paused in Peru, and Beyond Bolivia - great blogs strictly on South American people, all of which I also am inspired by.

I think that's enough for now. I will hopefully release my new blog within the next two weeks. There will be stuff on the Neanderthals, orangutans and gorillas, gruesome diseases and cancers, commonalities amongst all human beings (there aren't that many!), genetic drift, different spiritual beliefs that stretch from the Australian Aboriginals, through the dozens of different Indian faiths, to the Congolese communities that believe in witchcraft and spirits of nature.

It's going to be great!

90 - A chance at love

University is a whole mess of food, drugs, music, sex, relationships, friends and strangers, laughter and tears, kissing and drinking, dancing and groping, randomness, and a little four-letter word, namely Love. It happens rapidly, it happens to just about anyone, it happens everywhere we go, especially in university where all of us have left our homes and our respective high schools, to have a great time, to take hold of the responsibility of taking care of ourselves, and to find what makes us happy - whether it's in terms of our academic interests, the clubs and activities we have a desire to participate in, the careers we have dreamed of all our lives and finally are able to pursue, and of course, the chance to discover like-minded people in an environment that's specifically designed and used for an integrated timetable of education, employment and entertainment, together amongst a diverse deluge of young, passionate, and fun-loving people, from around the world.

Finding like-minded people can be an intricate process for a lot of people. Some people have no problem falling into the arms of another upon meeting them, the fantasy story of love at first sight compels them to simply let loose, float about, and allow the tide of love and life to wash them away wherever the current may bring them.

But for me, it is something of difficulty. It takes a lot of time for me to learn to trust someone. It takes some time for me to get used to people before I can begin to like them. I haven't found someone here after two weeks, but it seems like almost everybody else has paired up already, leaving me the sole soldier on the peripheries of the social circles. I know this is because I am simply not daring enough to take the initiative, to ask people for their names, numbers and perhaps a bit of background.

I wonder all the time, why this has always been the case - why I am not interested in others at first, and I've realized that it is because I like getting the attention first. It makes me self-centered, an attention-seeking kind of guy, and it sort of sucks because I'll never find anyone to be with as long as I retain this problematic attitude.

But I want to be given a chance to be in a relationship with somebody. It has been so long since I have been, and I wonder if it has changed. I love the feeling of devotion, and the pride in being somebody's #1, in being loyal, in being one of a pair, in being ______ and Michael together.

I hate seeing everybody getting Facebook-married, I hate seeing them hold hands, I hate hearing them have sex at night, I hate feeling intrusive and out of place when I'm in the company of a couple.

It's going to take some time for me to readjust my position in social interactions, but I've got to make myself a more approachable and gutsy man before I can be deemed dateable. I've got to stop being so self-involved, if I ever am going to get that chance of experiencing falling in love with someone successfully again.

89 - What's my plan?

To be honest, I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with a bachelor's degree in anthropology when I am awarded with it three years from now (with a specialization in European anthropology at that, by the way - it's a fancy course). About a year ago, I was pretty sure that this choice I made would contribute to a certain dream I had when I was a kid. I've said before that I want to be a top-class forensic anthropologist in the future, I've said I wanted to start my own homemade-style-of-cooking restaurant when I turn 21, I've said I wanted to go on a trip around the world with my best friend when I'm 25, and be sure to hit every single country on the planet while I'm at it. I've said before that I want to start settling down with someone when I'm roughly 28, have a kid or two before I'm 30, all the while keeping to my studies in English language, physiotherapy, and philosophy, while also working a full-time job as a forensic science anthropologist, maybe part-time teaching English, biology, or psychology. In addition to that, I will still have that restaurant, and by the time I'm 40, I will have opened up a café, a bar, a deli, and a nightclub, as well. As my kids start considering colleges while I'm roughly 45, I will already have a PhD in forensic science, and a handful of other qualifications in biological and social anthropology, English language, and business management. Even though it will be a high mountain to climb when I'm nearing 50, I will finally take up a medicine course, a dream I had since I was 15 but knew I didn't have the time, money or mindset to accomplish until I was much older. I will specialize in psychology, and have experience in pediatrics, Chinese medicine, neurology and mental health by the time I'm 60. Soon after I attain my second PhD, in psychology, I will leave my responsibilities at the hospital somewhere before 65 years old. I will be the owner of a dozen dining and drinking venues by then, I will reignite the candle that is my passion for travel, and I will continue to contribute to the world by enlightening those who wish to be talked to, at universities, hospitals, schools of business, private offices, high schools, medical schools, museums, libraries, and in lecture halls, classrooms, and anthropological, biological, psychological, and social research facilities, all over the US and the UK, Switzerland, Germany, Canada, China, Australia, Russia, and my childhood home, Hong Kong.

That is the brief plan that I've had in my head for a long time, and it feels good to have it all condensed into a paragraph as shown above, for my own reference, for my own reflection, for my own guidance, because it's a very big dream - a very, very, big dream that I'm now looking at as I sit here, barely started with my undergraduate course, at the beginning of my adulthood, at the beginning of the long lines of education and career that I will have when I die, and I'm now asking myself: How am I supposed to start a restaurant when I'm 21, and what am I supposed to do with a bachelor's degree in anthropology? How am I supposed to make my next step?

I will not accept advice from others, telling me that I'm still young, that I shouldn't think so much about the future because I will be disappointed, because I can never live in the moment, because it's unhealthy, and obsessive, and way over my head. I will not take suggestions from others, telling me that I should tone down my aspirations, because they're too big for me to handle. I will be sure to pace myself, and I will think about it as long and as seriously as I have to, to make sure this brief outline of my entire life for the next fifty years becomes my reality.

Now that that's understood, I would just like to confess that right now, I have no idea how to answer those two questions up there. That's all I'm saying - I'm slightly confused now. But I guess that's why it's a good thing that I have quite a while 'til I turn 21 and graduate with that anthropology degree, 'til I must pick a direction in which to steer.

Life is short, and life is long, life is what you make of it, and to live every second of it like it's your last is recommended. That's my uncouth, prosaic, and admittedly befuddling conclusion to this rambling for now.

What about you? Got any big plans for the future?

88 - University is nice

University life is not that radically different from the life I led back in Hong Kong. My friends all tell me how great it is to finally live beyond the smothering, overly restrictive hold of their parents, how wonderful it finally is to be free. But I've always had kind of a free lifestyle (whether that's a good or bad thing is unclear), so I don't really feel much change. I've always been able to do whatever I want, eat what I want, make friends with whoever I want, without anybody ever telling me what I should or shouldn't do.

This makes my journey of life a big trial-and-error process. That's the way I don't necessarily prefer to live my life - simply, it is the way I have done so, to feel accomplished after logically working out a suitable solution to my problems, and to feel humbled and enlightened when my thought-up solution turns out to be not that suitable.

So far, I have been eating a lot of microwave meals and junk food in the past two weeks. Whenever I sense a sore throat coming, I purchase a ready-to-eat, dielectrically heatable soup - which should be healthier, and good for my throat. I drink it, and the soreness wears away. Laundry has been easy, I've just followed the instructions on the box - no white clothes coming out colored is a WIN for me. Ironing has gone successfully as well - thanks to instructions and tutorials on Youtube and DIY websites that I simply Googled. And lecture theaters have been easy to locate. I was always good at reading maps. And having a good directional sense in the absence of one.

Life is nice. I decide what I eat. I'm learning what I want to learn. I truly have my own room, which I decorate and keep clean myself. I join the clubs and societies I have a passion for. I might get a part-time job soon - bartending or waiting, of course. I have so much time to do whatever I want, to read, to watch television series and review them, to write, to explore this new place, and to just think to myself - there has been a lot of time to myself. This amount of independence is certainly a step above what I had in Hong Kong.

And it feels incredibly good.

87 - A page from the diary

The UK is not as glamorous as I hoped it would be. It's hoped for, but also expected. And it's just as well. There is no need for me to get caught up in my foolish fantasies of a brand new sparkling study environment in England. At the moment, I can't say that I miss home terribly, but then again, I am unable to say that I am happy to be here either.

The trip was long, but not that I'm complaining. New Zealander air service is pretty good, very hospitable. Their meals weren't stellar or very filling, but at least it was tasty enough, and at least it was food.

I was admittedly too mindful of everything important to do with my time and my money and my traveling that I did not fully appreciate Heathrow Airport or the London underground. I wish we had the time for me to walk a bit slower, and to speculate on Britishness at my own pace, but the friend who welcomed me at the airport, and myself, were too time-pressed, and it was impossible for me to mentally gather my comments on every little thing. I wish we had the time to maybe surface to the streets of London and have a look around. I guess I'll have to find the time alone one weekend to explore London town.

But I really think I should start memorizing the Canterbury region first as best I can, like the badass motherfucker-rememberer I was back in Hong Kong.

The first thing I noticed as I stepped out of the Arrivals gate is that everybody is very English. I guess that's a stupid thing to say, as England is obviously going to seem very English, but it's a fact nonetheless that I took note of in my head as I was making my way to Canterbury. I wish I could put my finger on why that was so noticeable to me initially, but I think summarizing the entire British population's behavior in one specific description is too tricky a task.

Anyway, the dormitory room that I am staying in is really standard. There is nothing special about it, and it will need a lot of touching up in order to make it feel like home. At least I've got beer coasters from my first job, and photos of my family and friends, to pin to my cork noticeboard and remind me of where I came from. I miss my old bartending job. I suppose I will feel differently and a bit better once lectures begin and I can then focus my mind on a routinely focusable process once more.

This room needs books most of all. I can already feel my IQ dropping as I lie in this bare room with empty excuses for bookshelves.

I wish I had someone I knew with me to experience this with. I guess loneliness and acceptance of always being on my own will be something I'll learn really quickly, lest I might enter a state of depression.

Ultimately, though, I like the internal struggle I have going on inside me. It is difficult to be here, to have traveled here all by myself, to study and to live here, and to make a helluvan effort to meet new people and socialize, but it's all towards this bigger, more important goal.

I am not living in reality anymore.

I am living my dream.

86 - Mon premier emploi

I stopped working at my first job ever three days ago. It was a nourishing experience, and damn, I was so proficient by the time I reached my last day that there were a few times in the past three days of my new-found holiday when I wondered to myself if I could maybe just go there and work for one night? A busy night where they might need my help?

But no, my boss wouldn't let me do something like that.

I worked with some nice people there, a lot of different people, and I really did learn a lot. 'Fine dining' is not as glamorous and impressive to me as it used to be. By that, I mean to say, that no matter how pretty and delicious the food comes out, you might want to know that there's a rat that lingers underneath the stoves at night. Also, 'high-quality customer service' is nothing but a meretricious way of earning more tips. And if you think teamwork is important in the F&B industry, you're wrong. It's more like tolerance.

People at my job don't know how to chillax. Waiters and waitresses are always so impatient. Everything has to be done quickly, everything has to be done now. Chefs and kitchen staff are no better. They're hot-headed, they want their iced coffees and their fruit punches all the damn time, and if they don’t get it, they lose their tempers, and make you feel like you’re the next thing they’re going to cook for dinner. Managers and assistant managers are so cocky, they think they never make any mistakes, when they're actually lazy, and arrogant, because of the authority they have over us. To me, it seemed like only the bartenders knew how to relax and do a good job at the same time.

But all in all, a pretty fun, awesome time. I earned a lot of money, with which I bought an iPhone and a lot of other good stuff. Time to move on now, I guess. Who knows what I might end up working as next, or in the future? Can't wait to see.

85 - I knew a girl called Jade.

There was a time when I had the chance to date this beautiful girl six years ago. She was Australian-Chinese, and we initially met in our first year of high school. When you spoke to her for the first time, you would know in your mind to place her in the 'cool' clique at school. She simply had that charm about her, in the fragrance of her hair, the apparent sincerity of her smile, the chipmunky cheerfulness of her voice, her whole aura, a kind of biological femininity that was especially crafted for luring male companions, for enticing men, but her kindliness and immediate congeniality not necessarily indicative of you two strangers turning into friends, or becoming something more.

I, on the other hand, went into high school open-minded, and lacking any predetermined social standing. I was one of those kids that had the potential to end up a studious nerd, a lonesome bully, a suicidal emo kid, a regular Joe, a friendly Tom, an outrageously gay socialite, a muscular jock, or one of those guys that are just as clingy as their girlfriends and that never hang out with anyone else because both members of the relationship are too mutually preoccupied with having to attend to each other's needs and wants every minute of every day.

It was conceivable for me to be that last guy - to end up with that gorgeous-looking girl, to hang out with her and her two younger brothers all the time on yachts and on beaches, surfing, building sand castles, summering with her family on the coast of Maui, Costa Rica or Cebu, to make out during romantic movies and feed each other popcorn, to hold hands as we walked through the school corridors and sat in classrooms, unafraid of displaying our sick, mushy love for each other, to have amazing secret sex in parks and on rooftops that would make anybody jealous if they heard about it, to curl up next to a fireplace on long winter nights, playing Monopoly, drinking hot cocoa and exchanging funny anecdotes, or perhaps sharing our thoughts on what life would be like if it were drastically different from the one we were living...

Despite all the images I could conjure up now, it isn't the way it turned out. The details aren't necessary for you to know (as I am ashamed of said details), but in the end, Jade and I (and everybody else) all attribute the non-existence of this relationship in history to my own foolishness. This could-have-been pairing is just one of those situations that belongs in dreams and alternate realities.

84 - I know I'm a bad blogger.

Damnit, it's 3:20 in the morning, but I've got to write something here. I must write something everyday, anything, any little thing will do. And I must read other people's blogs - at least ten - everyday as well. This no-blogging-because-I-now-have-a-job-with-insane-hours thing is getting on my nerves, and I don't want to be the cause of any distress (albeit, only towards myself).

There has been a lot on my mind lately, but I shall bore you with that next time. Right now, I just want to say that life is pretty routine, and I didn't really want it to be so, as I had just graduated from high school.

Instead of waking up everyday to go to school, coming home late and then going to bed, I now wake up everyday to go to work, come home late and go to bed. It's the same thing. Do you notice that?

Only school doesn't take up fifteen hours of my day.

One hour to get to work, then thirteen hours of work with a three hour break somewhere in the midst of that, then an hour to get back home, followed by one hour of settling down when I get home, and two hours worth of time for me to do useless, unproductive shit on my computer until I fall asleep. So, altogether, that makes...

18 hours, leaving six hours for me to sleep. That is, if I actually do spend only two hours worth of time doing meaningless stuff, and if I also go home straight away after work.

I know all this talk about my new bartending job is boring blog material, for both this blog, and Do you hate it too? I know. I know that. There are bigger topics that I could discuss, but I just don't have the energy, I've been awake for forty hours over the past two days. I also feel a bit nauseous, as we bartenders tend to down a few drinks towards the end of the night just to celebrate another day of work surpassed. I actually don't want to drink - believe me, but my coworkers peerly pressurize me into the celebratory spirit.

Oh. This is now long enough. End.