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.

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.)

77 - Stop joking around

The picture that is my life is never pretty, but I've found out recently that I believe life is what you make it. If you view the world with a positive light, everything is better. Granted, my best friend is still a bit of an asshole, my parents are still not the best, and there are many times I find myself alone, but hey, I'm truly okay. The most important thing is that I'm okay, and that I'm happy with who I am, and when others put me down, I must brush it off my shoulder because I know I'm a good-hearted person deep inside.

I may not be donating thousands of dollars to charity, but at least I pay for my friends' drinks and taxi-rides home when they run out of cash. I may not lend my arm to the old lady who crosses the street, but I at least help drunk girls get back up on their feet when they're just about to pass out... And you know, I may not spend enough time with my family, but at least there are a lot of people who are around my age and have felt better after confiding in me, me who was able to talk to them instead of being preoccupied with my family.

And it's not like I'm not there for my parents and don't care about them at all anyway. God knows the three of us have been through a lot of shit together.

And as much as people like to say I'm the biggest gossip in the universe, I tell people things to make them understand a little bit more about other people because both parties are simply too shy, stubborn and/or insecure to get to understand each other. As much as people like to say they're so sick of me, and I'm so annoying, they always come back to me, to complain about their coworkers, their classmates, their boyfriends, their parents, their best friends, and most of all, themselves, and to share their thoughts, their feelings and their aspirations, and to share stories, to have me listen to them, to have me be there.

To be honest, I sometimes get tired of listening.

But I will always listen. I will always help people keep their chins up, give them something to look forward to, give them something to appreciate in life when everything seems so unappreciable. I don't care about my well-being. I don't care if you're using up my time, energy or money. I don't care if I don't sleep, and I don't care if there's an exam the next day, or if I want some time to rest or to be by myself. I don't care about me.

As much as they like to say I'm selfish, I truly believe they've actually just been looking in the mirror and did not like what they saw.

I'm not a bad person, and how dare you accuse me of being one sometimes, and then to cover it up by saying you were "just kidding". How dare you joke about my moral integrity, because all I ever am trying to be, every fucking minute of the day, is honest, generous, and forgiving.

I am a good person. And I am happy.

You should respect that as much as I respect you. You should stop being funny. The jokes are getting old.

69 - Did you know Hong Kong only has four channels on TV?

In Hong Kong, every household has access to just four channels.

Four.

That's not a lot of channels.

And so I download all my shizzle. As far as I know, it's not okay to download stuff because you're not paying the actors, the directors, the studios, etc... for what you're watching, but I mean... it happens a lot all over the world. It's strictly illegal to distribute the downloadable files, though. I don't do any of that. I just take the freebies off the actual thieves. I don't actually know who exactly these entertainment cheaters are, but I really love them.

Anyway, I love television, as the title of my old blog suggested (There is no me without TV.) Even though Hong Kong only has four primary channels, I've found other means to fall in love with Hollywood (and BBC), and enjoy shows like Lost, The Apprentice, Nip/Tuck, Survivor, Heroes, House, Grey's Anatomy, The Office, Skins, Doctor Who, and American Idol. (My full list contains 445 titles of TV series, 23 of them not airing anymore, 97 of them I stopped watching.)

But for a couple of years now, I've been sick of watching things on my computer screen. And there aren't many sources to download sports, documentaries or simply cartoons. I wanted more, and I wanted to actually be able to watch them on an actual TV.

So I got cable. :)

And now I have AXN, FOX, E!, National Geographic, the Disovery Channel, Animal Planet, HBO, Cinemax, Cartoon Network, Nickelodeon, the Disney Channel, Hallmark, the Golf Channel, and even GodTV.

Oh, I love documentaries.

Oh, but I love E! more. I'm watching something about how the richest people live. Paris Hilton and Jay Leno have a $8 million car. Tom Cruise has one valued at $1.1 million. Serena Williams takes a bath in Evian water. Kate Hudson has diamond massages. Mariah Carey's face cream has specks of gold dust in them. Paris Hilton also gave her dog a collar valued at $3.2 million. Richard Branson lets people stay on his own tropical island resot for $32,000 a night. Bill Gates, Harrison Ford and Mariah Carey have all stayed there, of course.

I'm so happy. And the contract doesn't expire until May 2010. :)

68 - I can't wait.

Alright, alright, alright, alright, alright, it's too sad, it's too sad to destroy this blog. I went back and read what I wrote in the past few months, and damn, that is a lot of writing, a lot of comments, a lot of readership, a lot of thoughts and memories and experiences to just delete at the quick click of the mouse's slick left button.

I was there, with my finger on my mouse, anticipating what I was about to do, like with my finger on the trigger of a gun to my own head (figuratively, of course, remember my thoughts and my memories?)... I couldn't do it, and I chickened out. It looks like I'm here to stay, with my horribly public displays of self-doubt, indecision, angst, hypocrisy and boastful arrogance. Woo~

I've just been really moody lately, you know? At times, I'm ecstatic, other times, downright dismal. Today, my feelings swung from guilt to gloom and from grief to glee. I don't know. I really don't know what's going on. Perhaps I'm just tired.

I have exams coming up soon, and so April is the month to focus. I need to work hard if I want to start a good new life in London. I can't wait to walk out of the examination room after each exam, knowing all my hard studying went toward some cause. I can't wait to pick out the suit I'll wear at my graduation ceremony and ball. I can't wait to party on the night we graduate, I can't wait to turn 18, I can't wait to finally have fun this summer, the only summer in which I just can't worry about the next year of high school.

I can't wait to immerse myself in time spent with my classmates, my friends, my loves. I can't wait to hug them with all the genuine good intent in my heart it will ever muster up for a long time to come.

I can't wait to move to London, to visit Soho, Camden Town, watch musicals, visit museums, eat at fancy restaurants, shop at flea markets, party at the coolest clubs, eat the most traditional scones and biscuits alongside a nice hot cup of cappuccino...

I can't wait to start my university course, and study what I want, what I flippin' give a damn about. I can't wait to grow up, I can't wait to be an adult, I can't wait to fall in love again, I can't wait to live a new life.

66 - My dad, the cats, and I.

I’m now sitting in a cab, on my way home, after spending the night at my dad’s place. Yesterday marks the first time I’ve seen him since last July after I vowed never to speak to him ever again. I find it strange, and wonderful, but mostly strange, how relationships heal over time, how feelings can change so rapidly. Who knows? Maybe next time I’ll get pissed at him again and promise myself the same thing I did a year ago. I guess you (and by ‘you’, I mean ‘I’) just need to approach each meet-up with an open mind, or better yet, an optimistic attitude.

So, what did we do yesterday… after school, I journeyed to Pacific Place, a rich-bitch shopping arcade that features Lane Crawford, Gucci, Chanel, Dior, and the like. I met up with him at this small restaurant-bar thing, where he was having a beer in a beautifully sculpted glass. He ordered teriyaki beef with rice and salmon sashimi for me, because I was hungry and apparently, they were very good according to him. He also asked if I wanted a beer, and I ordered a Coke instead. First alcohol temptation test since deciding to quit drinking – I passed without hesitation.

We then went to Lan Kwai Fong, the drinking and clubbing venue in Hong Kong. We went to say hello to a good friend of his, who was playing pool with a girl named Belinda at a pool-restaurant place called ‘Racks’. I think I saw one or two Hongkonger celebrities there… I can’t say I wasn’t impressed... in fact, my dad has always known all the cool hangout venues. I am always impressed by where he brings me.

Next on the agenda was his favorite bar, La Dolce Vita ’97. I unfortunately broke my no-drinking rule right there and then, and sinfully downed a Malibu Coke while he had a second beer. I don’t really know what to make of my quitting drinking. I guess I’ll just aim to reduce the amount I drink, as opposed to stopping totally.

He then took me to his place, and I was pleasantly surprised.

He lives in a tiny metropolis sort of place in the middle of Hong Kong. There’s everything you would ever want to live close to: supermarkets, cinemas, concert hall, coffeehouses, delis, fast-food and fancy restaurants and sports grounds are just a few examples. Being a resident there also meant you had access to the club house where they had squash courts, swimming pools, a Laundromat, table-tennis tables, pool tables, a sauna, a spa, etc…

Dude, my dad was living in a rich man’s world. I have to say, everybody we passed by while walking toward his place from the bus stop either looked stylish, rich, sexy, or some combination of the three – that’s boys and girls, mind you.

The actual apartment was spacious, clean, very stylish, and an ocean view. There was a plasma TV, speakers surrounding the sofa area, his laptop computer, space for my notebook, and the music he played was good, too. I took a shower as well, and seriously, I don’t think the hot water runs out, like a five-star hotel. Lining the bathroom sink were bottles of Hugo Boss and Giorgio Armani fragrances for men. There was great shampoo and conditioner, great shaving cream, even great toothpaste, soap and mouthwash. And by ‘great’, I mean ‘expensive’.

When we got to his house, we had dinner while watching some TV… I taught him how to get good quality movie streams on the internet and he went to doing that while I did my own thing on my laptop.

But the thing that really made my night last night was his two pet cats. I don’t know if they have names, but they were two adorable Scottish Folds. When I first saw them, I went up to the black one and pet him and he was just drawn to me immediately, we clicked. The white-with-brown-spots Fold came over soon after, and in an hour or two, I found myself posting on Do you hate it too? with the two cats as my armrests while I typed.

I was originally going to head home once it got really late, but I simply liked it there too much to leave so soon. I fell asleep on the couch while my dad watched a horrible movie called ‘Dungeon Girl’.

At around 10:30am, I woke up to find both cats curling up beside me, clawing at my hair, gently punching my stomach, jumping over my head, over my legs and back again, meowing, licking my face and my fingers, like they were trying to tell me it was time to get up. I just opened my eyes at that point, saw them, and really genuinely smiled for the first time in a long time, like I didn’t have a worry in the world because I had these two cats with me.

They had seen me open my eyes, and I guess they decided it was their turn to go to sleep. They spread themselves on the sofa we were sharing, and used my stomach as their pillow for their heads. I just lay there, for twenty minutes, watching their heads go up and down, up and down, up and down as I breathed. And I couldn’t remember the last time I was so content, so comfortable, so happy.

My dad was alright. But it was those cats that were the main son-magnets. A good journey overall, can’t wait to see what happens today.

43 - Drunk, happy.

It's been around three hours since the drinking ended. I still have half the bottle of vodka in my schoolbag amongst my books and that, in itself, is just hilarious because I have alcohol, illegally purchased, consumed and possessed, in my room, at the end of my bed, amongst my studying material. I seriously need to shower because I smell like a tequilla factory and looking in the mirror, it is clear that the drunken escapade tonight that concludes this week of school has made me look like shit. Simply looking in the mirror now, my hair is all shaggy and glistens, presumably from the sweat as the alcohol warmed up my body. My cheeks are not red exactly, but they are redder, and my facial color is fuller rather than paler. At some angles, my eyebags seem to be wider and darker than they actually are. I just stuck out my tongue and I felt like gagging/throwing up. Probably not a good idea to do it again.

Yes, looking in the mirror. We all need to reflect on our own personalities every once in a while. If not, we'd just be very egotistic.

I don't know where I'm going with this, this post lacks direction, which I hate. But anyway, I had a good time tonight, I know I have two or three very good friends, at least, and I need to go to sleep now. I hope all of you are very happy too, and will find what you are looking for if you are, indeed, pursuing happiness. Don't feel bad, look on the brighter side of things, ask for help from those you trust if you're finding it difficult, and never, ever give up when searching for what makes you happy. It isn't that difficult if you really believe.