132 - Some foods simple, some foods complex

Anyone who knows me long enough will know that I love to eat. I don't just guzzle everything real quickly, either, or eat just anything at any hour of the day. I have a lot of rules when it comes to food. For example, I never let any sauce, milk, ice-cream or any other substance get left behind on the periphery of my mouth. It saves me from having to wipe it later, and my fellow diners from an unattractive sight.

One of the major eating principles I hold dear to my heart is the differentiation between foods that have to be simple, and foods that have to be more complicated. Take macaroni and cheese for example. The indulgent, mouth-watering cheesiness of the dish is a delight, while the pasta itself fills your stomach. The same works for cheese and biscuits, and cheesecake. There's no need for a side of ham next to your biscuits, or some raspberry coulis drizzled over it. The cheese speaks for itself.

Examples of other foods that stand well on their own:
 - sashimi and sushi (no wasabi or soy sauce),
 - the classic Coca-Cola,
 - vanilla ice-cream (no other flavor),
 - toast and butter,
 - french fries and ketchup,
 - chicken nuggets,
 - tomato soup,

On the other hand, there are other foods that are better the more complex they are. They deserve to have more flavors, more textures, more colors, more ingredients, all mixed together to make it work. Take a sandwich for example. I never order BLT, or tuna and mayonnaise. It's just a bit plain if you ask me. It has to be a club sandwich - with tomatoes, lettuce, egg, bacon, turkey, cheese, mustard, ham, ketchup, mayonnaise, cucumber and a third piece of bread in between the top and bottom slices. That's what a real sandwich is to me.

Examples of other foods that should shoot for the stars:
 - nachos covered in beef, salsa, guacamole, sour cream and melted cheese,
 - fruit salad with at least six different kinds of fruit,
 - steak, with peas, carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy,
 - hotdogs with ketchup, mustard, relish, maybe some mayonnaise, corn, cheese, cole slaw, sauerkraut, onion, lettuce, tomato and chili sauce,
 - a full English breakfast, with eggs, toast, butter, jam, bacon, baked beans, hash browns, fried bread, black pudding, mushrooms, potatoes, sausage, and tea,
 - and the Big Mac, with two beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions and three sesame seed buns.

What do you think? Do you agree that tomato soup need not be dressed up? Do you disagree and think that a tuna and mayonnaise sandwich is actually very nice?

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.

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.)

64 - I quit drinking.

Alcohol and I don't mix well. It brings me down (as a depressant should). Under the influence of alcohol, I'm just incapable of looking on the bright side of things. I'm unable to cheer people up, to give them good advice like I would if I were sober. After a few shots, my mind is just lost in confusion, my heart full of fear.

Someone yesterday told me that they saw a lot of sadness in my eyes. I worry about that because I don't think it's possible to tell if someone's sad by looking into their eyes.

I've been thinking a lot about who I want to be in the future. I've been thinking a lot about who I am now.

Going out drinking and clubbing and partying was never my thing. I always used to power through it, and force myself to drink a range of bitter tasting beverages. I don't know how to dance. I don't like how sweaty I get from bopping up and down after gulping down liters of beer. I don't like margaritas either, my allegedly favorite drink. I hate how vodka makes my throat feel dry. Tequilla and gin are no better. I dislike the taste of spirits mixed with anything. Olives are mushy and bland. And I am sick of picking at mixed nuts.

I've been cheating myself, and others, into thinking I do this sort of thing. I've been tricking myself for a long time.

And yesterday, after drinking a bit, I thought about what I want to be when I grow up.

And the one thing I don't want to grow up to be is my father, and if there's anything he's notorious for, it's his drinking habits. My experiences in the past three or four years have shown me that no good can come out of consuming alcohol. It has always, always depressed me, leaving me saddened at the end of the night.

So, as of today, I quit. I'm going to be sober, at least for a while. There will be no exceptions whatsoever, my birthday, my graduation, nothing. It won't be easy, and I'll need people to back me up on this and support me, because I now know a ton of people around me that have just begun to love drinking or already do. I just hope everyone can get behind me on this, and won't apply peer pressure on to me and make me break my self-promise.

Really, my head has had enough headaches, my throat has had enough of that toxic substance trickling through it. I hate it, and I've had enough.

As of today, I quit drinking.

I quit drinking.

59 - Just dance, gonna be okay.

I went out drinking again.

I don't know what to say, because I don't know what happened. I just want to sleep my troubles away, like many people do, but I know I will have to face the consequences of my actions tonight.

However, I love the dancing, and some selected drinks.

I miss my best friend. I wish he was here right now.

He would know what to do.

I love him too much for my own good.

I've lost so much in the past few weeks. I want to look toward my parents and my class for some sort of light, some sort of guidance, because they are the people I'm obliged to be with.

On the other hand, they disappoint me, they hurt me, they piss me off.

Am I expecting too much? Am I too susceptible to insult? Am I too emotional?

Yes, yes and yes.

It doesn't matter.

It all doesn't matter because next year I won't even be here anymore.

I don't just mean in a physical sense.

My personality - I'm radically changing it when I go to university.

Even if you come back to me, even if you regret it, you won't find me there.

I'm gone.