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.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
83 - A Friennaisance?
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.
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.
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.)
Saturday, May 30, 2009
78 - I am 18.
Saturday, 30th May, 2009 - I turned 18.
It's funny how I receive phones and iPods, books and DVD's, ties and T-shirts, game consoles, laptops and electric guitars for my birthdays and for Christmas. It's funny how my father treats me to $84 oysters, and how my mother has bought me a fortune worth of food over the years. It's funny how I don't have to pay my aunts any money when playing mahjong, even though I should at times when I play abysmally. It's funny how my uncles offer me a glass of wine, or a can of beer, at family reunions. And it's funny how my cousins always want me to join them in playing Halo or football.
Thus are the benefits of being young.
I love eating in excessive amounts without getting fat, and I love sleeping in on Saturday mornings without many commitments to attend to. I always feel so energetic, yet so relaxed. I want to learn things in an unbelievable number of fields. I have such a passion for everything, and I care so deeply about the people around me. I love you guys hard. And you guys are the best. Thus are the benefits of having a young mind, and of having a big, young heart.
Eighteen years in Hong Kong, and eighteen years of being alive, has had its amount of turmoil, but through it all, I have sustained an honest relationship with my mother, a friendship with my father, and have had a lot of good times with the rest of my family, and proud of that, I am. I have met a lot of different people along the way. I've shaken their hands, and I've learned their names, and I've found common, as well as disparate, ground with all of them. I may have held their hair back as they regurgitated their alcohol, I may have felt envious of their looks, or their fortune, or their love lives, and I may have seen something malicious within a select few of them, but altogether, the motto that applies here is "what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger".
What an experience it all has been. I remember having lunch near those tennis courts, and sunbathing in the sun, and running around on grass and astroturf, with my friends. I remember all the late-night talks on the phone and online, the many heart-to-heart conversations shared after dinners. I remember the fun we had in the rain, and in the ocean, on islands, and on boats, and on suspension from school. I remember the bus rides together, as well as the roller coaster rides, and dancing in the clubs, which always was a different sort of ride altogether. I remember all of your comments on my blogs, I remember your comments on my life, I remember your comments on my naturally modelesque walk, my 'nice arms', my erratic accent, my 'thing' where I say I know what you're talking about when I actually don't, my humor (or lack thereof), your comments on my weirdness, my selfishness, my honesty, and my infamous two moles - I really remember it all.
It has been eventful.
But when we move on, all activity aside, what I will miss the most are your memorable faces and your distinct voices, your ageless smiles and your recognizable laughter, your fascinating stories, your ever-changing feelings and your thought-provoking philosophies.
I hope the comedy and the conversation can both continue to exist in my adult life, as we move on together as friends and family. I say, let's make that effort, 'cause it would be a shame to throw away the bonds that we have made. It's what I have wished for my birthday.
And so to end, my lovely people, I'm quite impressed with myself.
It's incredible. I would think a person like me would have given up along the way by now.
But, it's really all happening.
I'm 18.
And I'm going to uni.
:)
Friday, May 22, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
76 - What ridiculousness:
This just makes me laugh because it's so absurd.
I really wonder how much the actors and actresses got paid to appear in this video and advocate for such a thing.
Screw the National Organization for Marriage.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
75 - So happy to have friends like them.
Yesterday was a long day, but a good one. I had a maths exam, which was very difficult, and there were just some questions I knew I would never figure out how to solve in or for my life. What can I say - I gave it my best shot? Like I always say, I don't worry too much about my academics. I'm fine not being top of the class, so long as I manage to pass and move on to university. Uni's not even my goal, it's just another two or three years of education, around which I don't let my whole world revolve. I see the purpose of it, it's important. But all I'll ever be passionate about in the future is actually working, to help people via my future job. I don't want to take school so seriously, because this is only just the beginning.
----------------------------------------
So after the maths exam, I went to McDonald's with some friends for brunch, then went to play football. It was crazy hot and sunny, and even though I felt like shit kicking a ball around in the blazing heat after downing a big McDonald's breakfast, I loved the sun - it just makes me happy looking at my skin and noticing I'm a little darker. :)
We then went up to a friend's place, and we played games on his PS3 and his Wii. We had KFC for dinner, and by my friend's mother's insistence, pizza. We were too full to finish the pizza. All in all, it was a lot of fun to just relax for a day, to do some exercise, to get some sun, to spend time with people, to play some games. It's needed for me during exam period.
Anyway, soon after dinner, it was time to go home.
----------------------------------------
I got home, and talked to my best friend for over two hours. His phone ran out of battery, so I started watching my downloaded TV shows.
Ever watched Survivor?
It's a reality show, where sixteen to twenty, normal, everyday people, are sent to an isolated location (e.g., Brazilian highlands, Australian outback, Amazonian rainforest), to work with, and compete against, each other for cash and other prizes, most notably 1 million US dollars for the winner.
I've watched all 18 seasons of the American version, and it's the show I've been most dedicated to, one of my favorites. After thirty or so days of being outcasted, towards the end of every season, they like to reward the remaining four/five/six contestants, by bringing their loved ones into the game for just a day. It boosts their morale, it reminds the final four/fix/six of what they went to compete for, and most important of all, it creates some emotional reality TV.
I was watching this moment, when the outcasts reunited with their loved ones. One had his father emerge from the bushes, one had her husband, one had his brother... And I thought about what if I were there? Who would be there to emerge from behind the bushes to see me?
Hands down, my best friend, without a doubt. He knows every little thing about my life, he can handle all my different levels of character, there is nothing that means more to me than him. I paused Survivor, and as I sat there, I imagined not being able to talk to my best friend after thirty days in harsh conditions with nothing that reminds me home, and I just teared up at how emotional this hypothetical situation would be.
But then I realized that when I leave for university, when I leave Hong Kong, and he stays here, I won't have him to call up any time I want in London, and that this hypothetical situation bears some resemblance to a very real and near future for me. My best friend and I will have to start working out the time differences, while juggling my new life and his, our new schools, our new friends and love interests, everything, if we even still have time to and want to keep in touch with each other. It will never be the same, the same as it has been since I first met him.
I just cried at the idea, of losing the ability to do something that we've been doing for so long, losing the person I know now, the one I've had for so long. It's no tragedy, and I'm not sad. I wasn't feeling sad even as I was crying.
They're sort of like tears of joy, I'm very happy that I have him now, and I feel so fortunate. But leaving him is simply something that's going to be hard to do. Can you imagine having to leave the person that you are closest to... the person you speak with everyday... the person that knows you more than anyone, the person you know so well?
It's merely one of those things that will happen, and would've happened earlier or later anyway, and at least I have three or four months left. I'll just miss what I have now, you know? And he's just the first of things I'll miss when I leave.
----------------------------------------
So after the maths exam, I went to McDonald's with some friends for brunch, then went to play football. It was crazy hot and sunny, and even though I felt like shit kicking a ball around in the blazing heat after downing a big McDonald's breakfast, I loved the sun - it just makes me happy looking at my skin and noticing I'm a little darker. :)
We then went up to a friend's place, and we played games on his PS3 and his Wii. We had KFC for dinner, and by my friend's mother's insistence, pizza. We were too full to finish the pizza. All in all, it was a lot of fun to just relax for a day, to do some exercise, to get some sun, to spend time with people, to play some games. It's needed for me during exam period.
Anyway, soon after dinner, it was time to go home.
----------------------------------------
I got home, and talked to my best friend for over two hours. His phone ran out of battery, so I started watching my downloaded TV shows.
Ever watched Survivor?
It's a reality show, where sixteen to twenty, normal, everyday people, are sent to an isolated location (e.g., Brazilian highlands, Australian outback, Amazonian rainforest), to work with, and compete against, each other for cash and other prizes, most notably 1 million US dollars for the winner.
I've watched all 18 seasons of the American version, and it's the show I've been most dedicated to, one of my favorites. After thirty or so days of being outcasted, towards the end of every season, they like to reward the remaining four/five/six contestants, by bringing their loved ones into the game for just a day. It boosts their morale, it reminds the final four/fix/six of what they went to compete for, and most important of all, it creates some emotional reality TV.
I was watching this moment, when the outcasts reunited with their loved ones. One had his father emerge from the bushes, one had her husband, one had his brother... And I thought about what if I were there? Who would be there to emerge from behind the bushes to see me?
Hands down, my best friend, without a doubt. He knows every little thing about my life, he can handle all my different levels of character, there is nothing that means more to me than him. I paused Survivor, and as I sat there, I imagined not being able to talk to my best friend after thirty days in harsh conditions with nothing that reminds me home, and I just teared up at how emotional this hypothetical situation would be.
But then I realized that when I leave for university, when I leave Hong Kong, and he stays here, I won't have him to call up any time I want in London, and that this hypothetical situation bears some resemblance to a very real and near future for me. My best friend and I will have to start working out the time differences, while juggling my new life and his, our new schools, our new friends and love interests, everything, if we even still have time to and want to keep in touch with each other. It will never be the same, the same as it has been since I first met him.
I just cried at the idea, of losing the ability to do something that we've been doing for so long, losing the person I know now, the one I've had for so long. It's no tragedy, and I'm not sad. I wasn't feeling sad even as I was crying.
They're sort of like tears of joy, I'm very happy that I have him now, and I feel so fortunate. But leaving him is simply something that's going to be hard to do. Can you imagine having to leave the person that you are closest to... the person you speak with everyday... the person that knows you more than anyone, the person you know so well?
It's merely one of those things that will happen, and would've happened earlier or later anyway, and at least I have three or four months left. I'll just miss what I have now, you know? And he's just the first of things I'll miss when I leave.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
74 - Just a tiny bit tired of waiting...
Everybody around me knows that whether or not I'm funny on any particular day, at any particular moment, depends on my mood there and then. Everyone knows I'm only talkative when I feel like it, everyone knows I'll only lend a helping hand when I think life is great.
Why do I have these rapid mood swings? How is it possible for me to be fucking ecstatic one day, and drastically miserable the next day, hopelessly gawking at a person I admire in one hour, and viewing him as a total douche the next hour, and to be completely angry at someone one minute, and totally forgiving the next?
But you know, I would never give up my personality. People think it's interesting, and I think it entertains me too. It just gets a tad bit on my nerves sometimes. As well as those of others.
I just found out someone I knew blogged as well. She's quite close to me, and I found out that in her blogs (as I was snooping around through the archives), she mentions the search for love, and the battle against loneliness, predominantly.
My search for Somebody has always been there in my heart. But my head tells me to just wait.
Just wait... wait for that Special Someone Out There For Me.
I just wish I could know now where that person is. I wish I could learn when and where I will meet him or her. I want to know how much longer I freakin' need to wait.
Why do I have these rapid mood swings? How is it possible for me to be fucking ecstatic one day, and drastically miserable the next day, hopelessly gawking at a person I admire in one hour, and viewing him as a total douche the next hour, and to be completely angry at someone one minute, and totally forgiving the next?
But you know, I would never give up my personality. People think it's interesting, and I think it entertains me too. It just gets a tad bit on my nerves sometimes. As well as those of others.
I just found out someone I knew blogged as well. She's quite close to me, and I found out that in her blogs (as I was snooping around through the archives), she mentions the search for love, and the battle against loneliness, predominantly.
My search for Somebody has always been there in my heart. But my head tells me to just wait.
Just wait... wait for that Special Someone Out There For Me.
I just wish I could know now where that person is. I wish I could learn when and where I will meet him or her. I want to know how much longer I freakin' need to wait.
Monday, April 27, 2009
73 - Birthday planning is fun.
I'm still on study leave at the moment, exams start on May 4th. Of course the occasional distraction is inevitable in this feels-like-forever time span, and so in the past week, a lot of exciting planning has been going on between me and my friends whenever we close our books for a break.
My real birthday is May 30th (mark it on your calendars folks!), but unfortunately, our graduation ball/prom takes place on May 29th. I'm sure we'll be too hungover to celebrate on the actual date... plus, I have two families that really want me to devote my real 18th birthday to their side. Between my mother and my father, I haven't decided which one yet, but I'm thinking I'll give it to my mother. She's been quite short-tempered lately... maybe she's newly menopausal, or exam time has taken a toll on her mind as well (because she's an English teacher).
So, instead, I'm having a party on May 22nd. In fact, I'm sharing it with two of my friends, who have their birthdays lie unfortunately on dates with exams. They're two of my closest friends in the class, and so this joint party for three is going to be really special, and highly anticipated.
I've already plans to do stuff on the 24th, 26th, 28th, 29th, 30th and 31st as well. Turning 18 is a lot busier and a lot less cool than I thought, 'cause it's like everyone knows how great it feels and wants me to have a good time, too. Honestly, I'd rather lie on the beach for the entire week in the sun... but I'll attend every buffet, every house party, every dinner, every gathering, and every night out, for them. Because they love me.
I just booked the table for our birthday party for three. Around twenty-five people should be attending, it's a nice Australian-style restaurant, with fabulous steak, called 'Outback Steakhouse'. You can check out the food menu and the drinks menu if you fancy a drooling session. I seriously can't wait to celebrate, not only my birthday, but my two close friends' birthdays. We will also rejoice in the conclusion of our exams, of high school, of everything we've been doing in the past eighteen years.
It's so great.
And afterward, I know, and they know, and God knows we'll go get really drunk.
I always love that ending.
Anyway, I must get back to my maths books (or fall asleep lying on top of and underneath them). I'll come back and tell you how the exams are going after I've done one or two or a few. :)
I really miss blogging, but I'm surviving. See you later, people!
My real birthday is May 30th (mark it on your calendars folks!), but unfortunately, our graduation ball/prom takes place on May 29th. I'm sure we'll be too hungover to celebrate on the actual date... plus, I have two families that really want me to devote my real 18th birthday to their side. Between my mother and my father, I haven't decided which one yet, but I'm thinking I'll give it to my mother. She's been quite short-tempered lately... maybe she's newly menopausal, or exam time has taken a toll on her mind as well (because she's an English teacher).
So, instead, I'm having a party on May 22nd. In fact, I'm sharing it with two of my friends, who have their birthdays lie unfortunately on dates with exams. They're two of my closest friends in the class, and so this joint party for three is going to be really special, and highly anticipated.
I've already plans to do stuff on the 24th, 26th, 28th, 29th, 30th and 31st as well. Turning 18 is a lot busier and a lot less cool than I thought, 'cause it's like everyone knows how great it feels and wants me to have a good time, too. Honestly, I'd rather lie on the beach for the entire week in the sun... but I'll attend every buffet, every house party, every dinner, every gathering, and every night out, for them. Because they love me.
I just booked the table for our birthday party for three. Around twenty-five people should be attending, it's a nice Australian-style restaurant, with fabulous steak, called 'Outback Steakhouse'. You can check out the food menu and the drinks menu if you fancy a drooling session. I seriously can't wait to celebrate, not only my birthday, but my two close friends' birthdays. We will also rejoice in the conclusion of our exams, of high school, of everything we've been doing in the past eighteen years.It's so great.
And afterward, I know, and they know, and God knows we'll go get really drunk.
I always love that ending.
Anyway, I must get back to my maths books (or fall asleep lying on top of and underneath them). I'll come back and tell you how the exams are going after I've done one or two or a few. :)
I really miss blogging, but I'm surviving. See you later, people!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
72 - Taking a break.
Exams are coming up and I need to study hard, with as few distractions as possible. Of course, these diversions aren't limited to blogging, but by taking a break from blogger, I know it'll contribute a little to my focusing on my revision.
I feel quite confident about what I will do in the next month. I'm never one that worries too much about that sort of thing.
The only thing that will really distract me is thinking about my relationships with people. All I've got to do is keep that to a minimum, push those thoughts aside until high school really is over.
I can't wait to leave Hong Kong, but to be honest, I want these last few months to drag out for as long as possible. I am really going to miss the food, and the beaches here, but most important of all, the people.
This is exactly the kind of thing that will distract me for hours.
So, I'm going to end this post here, shut down my computer, take out my maths book, and revise.
I'll be back for a little while everyday, but only for a little while. See you on May 19th or 20th and pray that I get what I deserve. (Don't wish me luck. When the examination paper asks me to explain Faraday's law of induction, I don't want to rely on luck, because I'm not that lucky.)
Bye, friends. Talk to you next time.
I feel quite confident about what I will do in the next month. I'm never one that worries too much about that sort of thing.
The only thing that will really distract me is thinking about my relationships with people. All I've got to do is keep that to a minimum, push those thoughts aside until high school really is over.
I can't wait to leave Hong Kong, but to be honest, I want these last few months to drag out for as long as possible. I am really going to miss the food, and the beaches here, but most important of all, the people.
This is exactly the kind of thing that will distract me for hours.
So, I'm going to end this post here, shut down my computer, take out my maths book, and revise.
I'll be back for a little while everyday, but only for a little while. See you on May 19th or 20th and pray that I get what I deserve. (Don't wish me luck. When the examination paper asks me to explain Faraday's law of induction, I don't want to rely on luck, because I'm not that lucky.)
Bye, friends. Talk to you next time.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
71 - I got a Neno's Award.
An award, namely the Neno's Award, has been bestowed upon me by Argentum Vulgaris, creator of a number of blogs, including the less commonly advertised Beyond Bolivia and Things that are Not Normal. The award is given to and displayed on Do you hate it too?.The award is:
- a dedication for those who love blogging and love to encourage friendships through blogging
- a means of seeking the reasons behind why we all love blogging.
The aims of this award:
* As a dedication for those who love blogging and love to encourage friendships through blogging.
* To seek the reasons why we all love blogging.
* Put the award in one post as soon as you receive it.
* Don't forget to mention the person who gives you the award.
* Answer the award's question by writing the reason why you love blogging.
* Tag and distribute the award to as many people as you like.
* Don't forget to notify the award receivers and put their links in your post.
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On Do you hate it too?, I love to rant primarily, and I like to have people rant with me or rant against me. We use the word 'hate' so freely, and this applies to everybody, everywhere, at any given time, in a vast multitude of workplaces, public spaces and households, and I just like how widely I can stretch this theme across so many different things, while also providing a day-to-day update on my own life and learning about other people's experiences through their comments. It's also a very good medium to ventilate in, and it also helps me practice my writing. For me, there are so many reasons I love to blog.
There is one more reason that I reckon I must mention separately. Quite frankly, I love the attention. :)
I love the followers, the comments, the thousands of viewers I've had in the past six months. I'm an honest guy, and honestly, even though I did not expect this much readership when I first started out, it's now mainly what drives me the most to keep blogging - you, the readers, the fans, your consideration, your comments and your care.
I hope that sounded sweet, and not arrogant at all. I mean it - your care means a lot to me.
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I'd like to give the award to, and hear back from:
Eura from Thumbs Up, Feet On The Ground
Madame DeFarge from bateau de banane
Randa from 365 Days
Marcy from Tales of the Kids
Eugene from Solviter
Douglas from Boomer Musings
Tiffany from lipstick & poker chips
Chris O from My Cat ate my Brain
Jodi from The World According to J.J. In L.A.
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