There is someone that I've recently lost contact with, which is a total shame because we used to talk to each other almost everyday. Towards the 'end', if you'll allow me to call it that for now, our relationship just got really uncomfortable, and had to be unnaturally coerced to even vaguely work.
A few days ago, I woke up from a nap, to find this particular friend opening a conversation with me online. We each said 'hey', and he asked about my new job. I said it was great, and then I politely asked him in return how his summer has been so far. I was happy to discover that his was great too.
It was so nice to finally talk to him after not talking for months. We enthusiastically chatted for an hour or so more, about the good times we had before, about the busy times we have right now, and the amazing futures we have, the awesome life that await us in university.
We said our goodnights and goodbyes, and it was then that I had really woken up from that nap. It's too bad the whole thing was just a dream.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
82 - Clubbing in Singapore.
Wow, it's been eleven days since I last blogged. I think I'm going to use my day off today to prepare some more blog posts to be published throughout next week. I've been really thoughtful lately, but just hate that I haven't expressed those thoughts on Blogger.
So, since I last spoke to you all, I was heading off to Singapore. My mother wanted to see an Air Supply concert, and she had correctly assumed that I would be the only one who would agree to go with her all that way just to see a show. Singapore was, to me, a good place to visit. They had nice food, and a beautiful combination of sand and sea called Santosa beach. It seemed like a very pleasant place to live. And everywhere, I could see people who enjoyed living there, the expression on their faces revealing a feeling a lot like mine in how I love residing in Hong Kong.
We were only there for four days and three nights, and my mother and I had both taken three days off work just to be there. On the first night, my mother permitted me to go out clubbing and bar-hopping. The nightlife in Singapore was fantastic. It's a place called Clarke Quay, and it consists of a whole line of restaurants, bars, clubs and pubs, that line the banks of a river. It seemed a lot cleaner than Hong Kong's partying districts, and a lot less crowded, even though there was still a lot of people.
After scouting the area for an hour or so, asking various bouncers for the entrance fees and the availability of an open bar, I routinely bought some breath mints from 7-11, and paid twenty Singaporean dollars to enter a nightclub called Zirca. It was quiet at around 9pm, but I waited 'til the party started, as it usually does on a Thursday night. Three young-looking people seated a table seemed sociable and welcoming, so I joined them. We ended up dancing to pretty much the same boring tunes they play in Hong Kong. Singaporeans certainly have a lot of energy on the dancefloor, but by 2am, I just couldn't keep up with them, I wasn't feeling up for it, the alcohol started making me miss home, and so I went back to the place where my mother and I were staying in.
When I got home, my mother bade me go to the bedroom. I went, and as soon as I stepped in, she gave me a big, heartful hug, and said in Chinese, "You worried me to death!"
My mother has a keener interest in health and safety than I do. She always hears stories of the malicious things people do in different places. There are innocent, Indonesian girls that get raped in the middle of the night when they're alone. There are love interests who you think you can trust, who may tell you they have nothing wrong with them, but in actual fact, have a sexually transmitted disease like AIDS. And then there are young guys like me, thirsty for alcohol, who might get served a drink that contains some sort of sedative, so that the strangers behind the bar may carry me off into a world of crime, and teach me how to deal drugs illegally (and God knows what else), and transform me into a monster that will also, sneakily and heavily, sedate other young boys for generations to come, to keep the future of drug trade alive.
While I was having fun in Singapore's clubbing district, my mother was alone, creating an untrue image, of which I will never know the exact nature of, in her mind, of what might have happened to me, in the most unfortunate sense. I actually regretted going out that night, and I did not go out for the next two nights we were there, because of what transpired on the first night. I felt sorry to her, for worrying her. It's understandable because she hardly approves of me going out at all, even here in Hong Kong. She doesn't know that Singaporeans are friendlier than Hongkongers. She has no idea that Singapore and Hong Kong have two of the lowest crime rates in the world, Singapore's being even less than Hong Kong's. And, she doesn't know just how often I go out.
It's logical for her to worry, with what she doesn't know.
I have no doubt that I will return to Singapore some day, to properly experience the nightlife there without anybody worrying me. I guess when you go on holiday with your mother to a foreign country, some things will never change and you still can't go out drinking, whether you're finally 18 years old or not, because it worries her. It always will.
So, since I last spoke to you all, I was heading off to Singapore. My mother wanted to see an Air Supply concert, and she had correctly assumed that I would be the only one who would agree to go with her all that way just to see a show. Singapore was, to me, a good place to visit. They had nice food, and a beautiful combination of sand and sea called Santosa beach. It seemed like a very pleasant place to live. And everywhere, I could see people who enjoyed living there, the expression on their faces revealing a feeling a lot like mine in how I love residing in Hong Kong.
We were only there for four days and three nights, and my mother and I had both taken three days off work just to be there. On the first night, my mother permitted me to go out clubbing and bar-hopping. The nightlife in Singapore was fantastic. It's a place called Clarke Quay, and it consists of a whole line of restaurants, bars, clubs and pubs, that line the banks of a river. It seemed a lot cleaner than Hong Kong's partying districts, and a lot less crowded, even though there was still a lot of people.
After scouting the area for an hour or so, asking various bouncers for the entrance fees and the availability of an open bar, I routinely bought some breath mints from 7-11, and paid twenty Singaporean dollars to enter a nightclub called Zirca. It was quiet at around 9pm, but I waited 'til the party started, as it usually does on a Thursday night. Three young-looking people seated a table seemed sociable and welcoming, so I joined them. We ended up dancing to pretty much the same boring tunes they play in Hong Kong. Singaporeans certainly have a lot of energy on the dancefloor, but by 2am, I just couldn't keep up with them, I wasn't feeling up for it, the alcohol started making me miss home, and so I went back to the place where my mother and I were staying in.
When I got home, my mother bade me go to the bedroom. I went, and as soon as I stepped in, she gave me a big, heartful hug, and said in Chinese, "You worried me to death!"
My mother has a keener interest in health and safety than I do. She always hears stories of the malicious things people do in different places. There are innocent, Indonesian girls that get raped in the middle of the night when they're alone. There are love interests who you think you can trust, who may tell you they have nothing wrong with them, but in actual fact, have a sexually transmitted disease like AIDS. And then there are young guys like me, thirsty for alcohol, who might get served a drink that contains some sort of sedative, so that the strangers behind the bar may carry me off into a world of crime, and teach me how to deal drugs illegally (and God knows what else), and transform me into a monster that will also, sneakily and heavily, sedate other young boys for generations to come, to keep the future of drug trade alive.
While I was having fun in Singapore's clubbing district, my mother was alone, creating an untrue image, of which I will never know the exact nature of, in her mind, of what might have happened to me, in the most unfortunate sense. I actually regretted going out that night, and I did not go out for the next two nights we were there, because of what transpired on the first night. I felt sorry to her, for worrying her. It's understandable because she hardly approves of me going out at all, even here in Hong Kong. She doesn't know that Singaporeans are friendlier than Hongkongers. She has no idea that Singapore and Hong Kong have two of the lowest crime rates in the world, Singapore's being even less than Hong Kong's. And, she doesn't know just how often I go out.
It's logical for her to worry, with what she doesn't know.
I have no doubt that I will return to Singapore some day, to properly experience the nightlife there without anybody worrying me. I guess when you go on holiday with your mother to a foreign country, some things will never change and you still can't go out drinking, whether you're finally 18 years old or not, because it worries her. It always will.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
81 - My first job.
Today, I tried bartending at a local restaurant/bar. It was actually quite awesome, and there's still a lot I have to learn. If I continue to work hard, though, I earn 7000 Hong Kong dollars a month. That's roughly 583 pounds, or 903 American dollars, per month. Pretty damn good for a first job, eh?
I learned how to hold the glasses, how to wash the glasses, how to make distinctions between the different glasses, how to polish the glasses, how to dry the glasses, how to shelve the glasses and how to position the glasses, how to pour beer properly to get the right amount of head, what to do when you accidentally have too much or too little foam, where the extra beer kegs are kept, and how to change them, how to garnish a Coke, or a cranberry juice, or a fruit punch, how to make a proper iced lemon tea, how to clean the bar, etc...
I was lucky in how I got the job. I was just going from bar to club, from pub to restaurant, asking each manager if there were any summer jobs available. I stumbled into one yesterday, after entering over fifty other places, and the manager at this one let me try out today.
It was actually a lot of fun, a lot more fun than I expected. I thought I would spill something on a customer, or break a glass, but nothing of the like happened. It was actually sort of abnormal, how perfect the five hours went by today. I am totally going to work my butt off to keep this job and be a good bartender.
Bartending is something I've always wanted to do. I just turned 18 (the legal age to enter an alcohol-serving facility in Hong Kong), so this fact in itself is, again, just too perfect. This also means that finding a part-time bartending job in the UK will be easier this fall, now that I'll have the ongoing experience behind me.
As I'm counting down slowly 'til the end of my summer, with this job, and my mother, and my father, and my close friends, I have everything I need before I head to uni. Life is damn good.
(Oh, and I'm going to Singapore from Thursday to Monday. My mom wants to see an Air Supply concert real badly.)
I learned how to hold the glasses, how to wash the glasses, how to make distinctions between the different glasses, how to polish the glasses, how to dry the glasses, how to shelve the glasses and how to position the glasses, how to pour beer properly to get the right amount of head, what to do when you accidentally have too much or too little foam, where the extra beer kegs are kept, and how to change them, how to garnish a Coke, or a cranberry juice, or a fruit punch, how to make a proper iced lemon tea, how to clean the bar, etc...
I was lucky in how I got the job. I was just going from bar to club, from pub to restaurant, asking each manager if there were any summer jobs available. I stumbled into one yesterday, after entering over fifty other places, and the manager at this one let me try out today.
It was actually a lot of fun, a lot more fun than I expected. I thought I would spill something on a customer, or break a glass, but nothing of the like happened. It was actually sort of abnormal, how perfect the five hours went by today. I am totally going to work my butt off to keep this job and be a good bartender.
Bartending is something I've always wanted to do. I just turned 18 (the legal age to enter an alcohol-serving facility in Hong Kong), so this fact in itself is, again, just too perfect. This also means that finding a part-time bartending job in the UK will be easier this fall, now that I'll have the ongoing experience behind me.
As I'm counting down slowly 'til the end of my summer, with this job, and my mother, and my father, and my close friends, I have everything I need before I head to uni. Life is damn good.
(Oh, and I'm going to Singapore from Thursday to Monday. My mom wants to see an Air Supply concert real badly.)
Sunday, June 14, 2009
80 - Fitting in, and finding your place.
I have always struggled with finding a place in which I belong when I am amongst a large group of people like my class. I don't have membership in any particular clique, nor do I have any one person that really sticks to me wherever I go, or vice versa. It's funny because all my close friends outside my school have that exact same situation in their respective communities.
In my class, I don't really know if I fit in or not. They tell me that they all want me to go on a graduation trip, and while I was there, I could see why they said so. In the course of a day, I was with Group A for breakfast, then swimming in the pool with Group B, checked in with Group A as they were going kayaking, before I went to check on Group C, who were staying in the villas. By the time the sun was going down, I was hanging out with Group D. The day ended with Groups A, B, C, D and E eating dinner altogether, and then dancing altogether, where I mostly chatted with Group B, danced with groups B and C, and left with groups A and E.
Those were arbitrarily generalized, of course, but you get the gist.
But then there are those times when one of the guys wraps his arm around a girl's shoulder because he doesn't like me talking to her. There is that time when they will tell you to go get some rest, and that tomorrow is a big day, instead of letting you join in with their fun late at night. There are times when they will move away from you without inviting you to come along, times when they will place their hand beyond their plate to demonstrate that they don't want to share their food, times when they will close the door in your face, turn on the television, or even fall asleep right in front of you 'cause they don't want to talk to you any longer.
It confuses me, the game of social interaction. I still don't have my answer, my defined place, after spending seven days with my classmates. I suppose I'll never know, now that we won't be seeing each other much anymore, but change is the essence of life itself.
Like I said, my closest friends outside our school's graduation class of 2009 are all similar to me, in that they find it hard to fit in with the people they go to school with. Somehow, I have managed to form a community of people that I trust and love and care about that stretches to the UK and back. All I need is them, and I'll try to talk about them more this summer, 'cause they're very interesting people.
In the end, it doesn't really matter that I'm not in the center of attraction, or antipathy, or attention in general. All that matters is that I have people that I hold memories with that will make me smile wherever and whenever I'm not happy, and that will teach me that life is, actually, kind of alright.
In my class, I don't really know if I fit in or not. They tell me that they all want me to go on a graduation trip, and while I was there, I could see why they said so. In the course of a day, I was with Group A for breakfast, then swimming in the pool with Group B, checked in with Group A as they were going kayaking, before I went to check on Group C, who were staying in the villas. By the time the sun was going down, I was hanging out with Group D. The day ended with Groups A, B, C, D and E eating dinner altogether, and then dancing altogether, where I mostly chatted with Group B, danced with groups B and C, and left with groups A and E.
Those were arbitrarily generalized, of course, but you get the gist.
But then there are those times when one of the guys wraps his arm around a girl's shoulder because he doesn't like me talking to her. There is that time when they will tell you to go get some rest, and that tomorrow is a big day, instead of letting you join in with their fun late at night. There are times when they will move away from you without inviting you to come along, times when they will place their hand beyond their plate to demonstrate that they don't want to share their food, times when they will close the door in your face, turn on the television, or even fall asleep right in front of you 'cause they don't want to talk to you any longer.
It confuses me, the game of social interaction. I still don't have my answer, my defined place, after spending seven days with my classmates. I suppose I'll never know, now that we won't be seeing each other much anymore, but change is the essence of life itself.
Like I said, my closest friends outside our school's graduation class of 2009 are all similar to me, in that they find it hard to fit in with the people they go to school with. Somehow, I have managed to form a community of people that I trust and love and care about that stretches to the UK and back. All I need is them, and I'll try to talk about them more this summer, 'cause they're very interesting people.
In the end, it doesn't really matter that I'm not in the center of attraction, or antipathy, or attention in general. All that matters is that I have people that I hold memories with that will make me smile wherever and whenever I'm not happy, and that will teach me that life is, actually, kind of alright.
Friday, June 5, 2009
79 - Uninspired post, but who cares?
Getting back into blogging is actually harder than I thought it would be, after I previously announced that I would take a break from it five weeks ago, when my exams began. My exams ended two weeks ago, and even then, I just felt uninspired to write anything much. I know in my heart that I do this to give others something to read. For me, I have friends to talk to, to express myself and my thoughts. I don't need a diary, but this is sort of like a diary. But writing, to me, is pointless, if it isn't for others to view. And that's precisely how you found these words.
I guess I felt that what I had to say, or what I could say, in the past two weeks, was not worth mentioning, and was not entertaining. But, tonight, I have a desperate, but composed, compulsion to type something in this white space (pale green on my blog) and publish it. Because I believe I've been delaying getting the ball rolling for this summer of blogging. I don't want to quit. I'm not a quitter.
So let me tell you about what's been going on lately.
I've been watching movies, the popular ones that everybody else has seen but I haven't. I've never watched Star Wars, I've never watched Terminator. I haven't even seen any James Bond films, and I'm going to England in the fall. I need to do this before university begins.
I've also been watching TV series. I've already seen all the episodes of my favorites - Lost, 24, Grey's Anatomy, Heroes, Survivor (these are only five titles, mind you)... but it's been a long time since I've started watching something new. And so I started watching Dexter, and I plan on watching Entourage and How I Met Your Mother, because other people love it and I haven't watched them yet. I also think an Alias and a Sex and the City marathon are much needed, as they are favorites that people are missing now, six, seven years later.
I've been reading, at the moment, The Selfish Gene, by Richard Dawkins. It's for my biological anthropology modules in university, and I've learned quite a bit about DNA and evolution so far (I'm on chapter 4). As for fiction, I'm reading Death at Intervals, by José Saramago, a fantastic Nobel Prize-winning Portugese writer if you haven't heard of him already.
On my list of things to read, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Analects, Through the Looking Glass, The Phantom of the Opera, Les Misérables, Crime and Punishment, Howard's End, The Origin of Species, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Beowulf, Moby Dick, The Awakening, and many more classics, are waiting for me. I need to read the Twilight saga, as well, because I just don't understand what the fuss is all about.
I also have more anthropology books to get through before I fly off to London. There's Barrett's Culture and Conduct, Edward T.Hall's Beyond Culture, The Silent Language, and the Dance of Life, and Steven Pinker's The Stuff of Thought.
There really isn't enough time in the universe. I would not say no to immortality, because if I lived forever, I could learn forever, I could experience new things forever. I love exposing myself to stuff, and I hope this part of my personality doesn't go away. My friends have told me that it can't go away, and even if I wanted to eradicate it because I might get too tired one day, I wouldn't be able to. It's inborn, it's innate, it's in me. For now, I don't have a problem with that - I love it.
Anyway, this has really made me think about how little time I actually have this summer to do all that I want to do. I'm going to have to stop here, but this is sufficiently long, right?
I've got a party to go to anyway. So, talk to you all later. I'll TRYYYY to stop by your blogs soon, really!
Toodle-loo!
(And in case you're wondering, or if you didn't catch it from what's written above, I'm very happy right now, in a calm and serene way. Summer is great.
Life is great.)
I guess I felt that what I had to say, or what I could say, in the past two weeks, was not worth mentioning, and was not entertaining. But, tonight, I have a desperate, but composed, compulsion to type something in this white space (pale green on my blog) and publish it. Because I believe I've been delaying getting the ball rolling for this summer of blogging. I don't want to quit. I'm not a quitter.
So let me tell you about what's been going on lately.
I've been watching movies, the popular ones that everybody else has seen but I haven't. I've never watched Star Wars, I've never watched Terminator. I haven't even seen any James Bond films, and I'm going to England in the fall. I need to do this before university begins.
I've also been watching TV series. I've already seen all the episodes of my favorites - Lost, 24, Grey's Anatomy, Heroes, Survivor (these are only five titles, mind you)... but it's been a long time since I've started watching something new. And so I started watching Dexter, and I plan on watching Entourage and How I Met Your Mother, because other people love it and I haven't watched them yet. I also think an Alias and a Sex and the City marathon are much needed, as they are favorites that people are missing now, six, seven years later.
I've been reading, at the moment, The Selfish Gene, by Richard Dawkins. It's for my biological anthropology modules in university, and I've learned quite a bit about DNA and evolution so far (I'm on chapter 4). As for fiction, I'm reading Death at Intervals, by José Saramago, a fantastic Nobel Prize-winning Portugese writer if you haven't heard of him already.
On my list of things to read, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Analects, Through the Looking Glass, The Phantom of the Opera, Les Misérables, Crime and Punishment, Howard's End, The Origin of Species, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Beowulf, Moby Dick, The Awakening, and many more classics, are waiting for me. I need to read the Twilight saga, as well, because I just don't understand what the fuss is all about.
I also have more anthropology books to get through before I fly off to London. There's Barrett's Culture and Conduct, Edward T.Hall's Beyond Culture, The Silent Language, and the Dance of Life, and Steven Pinker's The Stuff of Thought.
There really isn't enough time in the universe. I would not say no to immortality, because if I lived forever, I could learn forever, I could experience new things forever. I love exposing myself to stuff, and I hope this part of my personality doesn't go away. My friends have told me that it can't go away, and even if I wanted to eradicate it because I might get too tired one day, I wouldn't be able to. It's inborn, it's innate, it's in me. For now, I don't have a problem with that - I love it.
Anyway, this has really made me think about how little time I actually have this summer to do all that I want to do. I'm going to have to stop here, but this is sufficiently long, right?
I've got a party to go to anyway. So, talk to you all later. I'll TRYYYY to stop by your blogs soon, really!
Toodle-loo!
(And in case you're wondering, or if you didn't catch it from what's written above, I'm very happy right now, in a calm and serene way. Summer is great.
Life is great.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
