Again

Three times in less than six months.

I really shouldn't. Especially when I'm inviting inevitable suspicions.

Then again, Gorgeous really, really shouldn't have seduced me with my favorite.


: )

In six hours... : )

December Part One

Before anything else, I just wanna rant...

FARK THOSE SHOES! Fark those shoes that I so love!

Why is it that the most glamorous things in the world are sometimes also the most insensibly useless ones? Why is it that I have got pretty heels but cannot show them off to the world?

Why is it I cannot handle even 4 inches?

This so calls for some training. =/

*****

Let me recount the past week. Oh, the past week.

December is already midway through its run, and I'm lamenting it's flying by and wishing December never ends. I love December, for the coolness in the air (I walk around in just a tank top at times), for the layering of clothes (and I'd like to clarify I am not a boot-wearing polar bear), for the holiday mood (read: laziness) at work, for the Fun Fridays and Congee Tuesdays (can't remember when I last had hot pot).

I love December, because every day is a party in December. That, at least, is my very-new-though-very-late resolution for the year.

And I am darn sure taking my resolution seriously for once.


TUESDAY
Drank.
Didn't really have to. Shouldn't really have.
But running my guts out and staying home on Monday night was good enough to make me feel like a good girl.
So I did. And I did also discover a lovely new place, Le Jardin.
My Japanese friend is finally out again these days. We're back chatting about shit.

WEDNESDAY
Drank.
Christmas cookie frosting! Pizza! Wine!
Never in my entire life thus far have I ever baked nor much less, frosted Christmas cookies. Am not a big cookie monster to begin with.
But it's the fun, and the company, and the wine that really count.
My small-town Vermont babe is awesome.
I made the ugliest United-Colors-of-Benetton Santa - that, of course, I had to eat up.



THURSDAY
Drank.
Farewell drinks for a not-so-close colleague, and I swear I will never step foot into Sevva again - if I can help it.
I have never hung with all the girls from the work place. And only the girls. Weird.
Dinner at Wagyu was decent, though. Been dying to try the cows there, but none of the girls ordered a steak, and I would feel like a cow if I did.
The phone call came in the middle of my salad and carpaccio feast. And I can't wait to sneak off.
Back to Le Jardin. Nice.
My Japanese friend is out again. Hmm.

FRIDAY
Drank.
From 5.30 in the afternoon. On the pretext of "office party". A PYOB one, at that - thanks to the recent budget cuts.
5 out of 11 beers from the list. Blue shots and pink ones too. And another one that looked really like good ol' plain water.
Giggled and stumbled out to Fatburger with the boys.
Ah, I miss these crazy nights.
And obviously way more than the boys, because I didn't go home at half-past-nine while they did.
What's a week without spending time with my Gorgeous?
It's training week, too. : )
Never mind even if I have to stumble home at 3. Or, was it 4?



SATURDAY
Drank. Drank. Ate. Laughed. Drank. Danced. Sang. Laughed. Talked. Drank.
It's our glamorous Christmas dinner. (Yes, the fucking' glam dinner for which I bought the fuckin' glam shoes, which didn't even bring me a fuckin' hundred meters away from home.)
We promised we'd all come out in our glamorous best, for once - and not have dinner at hot pot.
French was equally tantalizing.
I got a can of abalone in the gift exchange. Which invited much jibing. But I think it's cool I've something to bring home for Mom.
Laughter. Company. Memories. That's Christmas for me.
All the way till 7 in the morning.



SUNDAY
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz


"Oh office buddies again huh..."

And I can see the sneer at the other end.

Yeah, I happen to love these guys. And I still love you boys lah.

1800

I think... I think... I think I just bought my first pair of Italian-made shoes (when I really SHOULDN'T FUCKIN' HAVE).

I hope it's comfortable.

And I hope it's not the beginning of a new addiction.



I can't believe tonight's finally here.

Oh! Toro!

I know I've kinda sworn to myself, I'd try to stay away from Japanese food when I'm anywhere in the world but Japan. But I think my adventure number two might have led me to possibly the best otoro in town.



It wasn't just the otoro.

It was the raw egg over my fluffy rice, sprinkled with dabs of shoyu, that had me completely sold.


People come, people go. That's what they do in my life.

I'm glad you chose to let me stay in yours.

Saturday

I eat, and eat, and eat.



And eat.

That's why I have to run harder than I eat.


Crime scene: Y by-the-bay at the Repulse Bay (just more atas Japanese hot pot, really)

Further activities: Undisclosed

Yamapi!

The first, and usually most interesting, motive for me to explore a place is food.

Where it is known to have good food, I usually cannot find another reason otherwise for me to move my ass.

That has, if I think about it real hard, been what I've been unwittingly doing for the last few months - I have seen parts of the Honks I'd have otherwise never seen in my hot pot adventures.


I started my new resolution as a pseudo-tourist in my new hometown by looking up all the foodie blogs and forums and web sites on the Internet. Don't ask me why.

And of very late, I have a newfound interest, more like curiosity, about private kitchens in the Honks.

Hmm. Don't ask me about private kitchens too - at least not at the moment, until I get this mystery sorted for myself.

A seemingly normal, usual Wednesday-night dinner plan with the gorgeous one set up the perfect opportunity for me.

"What do you wanna do tonight? Something simple, or something nice?"
"Nice."
"Perfect. French."


Turned out neither of us had ever really tried "French cuisine". What makes French cuisine, anyway? Rabbits? Snails?

Le Blanc was something I found randomly over the Internet - a private kitchen specializing in French cuisine, that has won quite a plenty rave reviews from customers, and didn't seem expensive. (I'm a budget tourist.)

I think I was quite sold already from the time I stepped into the "private" establishment, up on the sixth floor of an obscure commercial building in a Wan Chai, to the time I sat at our table in our "private" booth, to the time I 'ooh'd' and 'aah'd' at the amazing menu.

Everything in Le Blanc, as the name goes, is white in color yet retains a rather cosy and homely atmosphere. Indeed, while understaffed on a surprisingly busy Wednesday night, the folks somehow made me feel like I had been invited to a random house-dinner party.

There were many courses - I lost count. I can't imagine how I managed to pick all my dishes for each course, knowing how hard a menu usually makes my life. And I can't believe I didn't drink. Someone refused to touch alcohol and share a bottle with me. GRrrrrr.

The one thing I do remember though, is the taste of my grilled angus rib finger that was my main. I wasn't asked how I would like my beef cooked (which would've been rare), but the chef grilled it to such near-perfect state (which was rare - both in taste and in occurrence). Grilled but not charred on the outside, tender and almost rare in the inside, I was surprised that grilled beef like this could melt in my mouth.

I knew we both had a good dinner because I finished everything despite worrying about the number of courses earlier. And most of all, I have never seen Gorgeous eat this much - much less finish his food.

Would I return? Oh yeah. I think I do the chicken next (though I know I'd do another beef). And I'd better take advantage of the no-corkage-charge the next time.




Now I remember too why I was so happy Wednesday night.

An unexpected trip to the dodgy 188 with Gorgeous before dinner had me stumble upon one of my most amazing finds in the Honks.

Now I know where to get all my Japanese fix. : )

Love

Lazy Sunday afternoon (read: recuperating on the couch from the last three nights).

Was just sending a text to the sis-in-law to send her birthday greetings:

SIL: ... Mum ask wru now.
ME: Home lor.
SIL: Mum say u must eat dinner hor!
ME: ... how did she know? Bleh

That's why, I'm my mommy's daughter too.

And that's when you feel the most loved.

The Little Things

Fatmama thinks one of the best little things in life is a good hairman. Not just any good hairman, but the only one who can forge that inexplicable relationship with your hair.

I don't know what to do without Dean.

Just Sunday

We've been talking about it for the longest time.

We, the hot pot gang, talking about the bubbly brunch, for a change. This "really good" bubbly brunch at the Sheraton.

A tad off our mark, especially when we've already been whining about spending too much on hot pot. But I suppose anything just so I stop taking and showing pictures of nothing but hot pot. Anything goes.


Sunday brunch is really a bad idea methinks.

Wait... let me take that back. Sunday brunch is not a bad idea at all.

Sunday champagne brunch is.


Out of the original eight, only half made it to the Sheraton Sunday morning. Out of the half who actually made it, one half couldn't even bear the smell of alcohol that morning, not to mention the taste. Of the remaining two, one's not quite a keen drinker, the other is and got quite upset at another for leaving him alone with the all-you-can-drink champagne.

Of course I made it to the Sheraton. But Simon got upset with me.

Ouch, that did not make the hangover any more bearable.



The other "really good" thing, other than the champagne deal, was supposedly the food - in particular, the oysters.

But the oysters sucked big-time.

Neither fresh nor juicy, some even had a terrible lingering taste. We tried them three times, and we wished we had learnt our lesson the first round. I swear to my god, I will never again eat oysters anywhere else in the world that's not oyster-haven.

There wasn't much choice on the buffet table. I kept moving from the sashimi platter to the seafood platter, back to the sashimi, then back to the prawns again. The cuts of sashimi did not do much justice to its flavor - though there wasn't much flavor to justify in the first place. The prawns were huge and steamed and chilled - but they weren't quite totally fresh nor juicy.

The only savior was the grilled sea bass, which had to be ordered from the menu and actually turned out really good.

And I couldn't even finish one glass of bubbles.

Verdict: I don't think you would ever see me in that restaurant anymore. =/




The truth is, every morning I wake with a headache after a bad night of alcohol overdose, I crave for only one thing from the moment I open my eyes.

Soup. Hot, hot soup. Not the Campbell kind of creamy mushroom or tomato soup. But the real Chinese kind of soup. Like the chicken soups Mom cooks. Maybe it's just a psychological effect. But everyone has his or her own hangover cure, no?

Anyway, I woke up Sunday morning with that craving. I sat almost three hours at the brunch table, still having that craving. I walked out of the restaurant with half a stomach full of bad oysters and chilled prawns and mediocre sashimi - still having that hot-soup craving.

In other words, my hangover hadn't been cured.

I could've gone straight home again to sleep it over, but I thought that would be another Sunday wasted. Since I was out, I decided I would stay out just a little more.

Me and Simon ended up walking around aimlessly until I suggested (more like insisted) we head towards east TST. I'd seen some al fresco cafes and pubs there. We could chill there.

I couldn't even finish my bottle of beer, but sitting there in the open, feeling the breeze (especially when the double-deckers whizzed past us), looking towards the harbor (and the very fogged up skyline across), chatting frivolously with a friend... I realize I have never quite had such a peaceful time outside in Honks. Sure, in Singers, there are plenty of places I could just sit and stone and chill and be at peace. In the Honks? Never.

Well, I take that back. I lied. I've had such peaceful moments before. Not aplenty, but enough. Enough for me to realize happiness comes to you in the most unexpected and subtle ways.

Ah. Well. Enough.


Anyways, Simon got a call an hour later, and we found ourselves walking toward the subway, on our way to Tin Hau.

I don't know what came over me, but I still resisted the bed, and I decided I would follow and pop by a Japanese carnival.

Japanese carnival = Japanese food... how to resist?!



I think the brunch must have left me really unsatisfied, 'cos I didn't say "no" when Si suggested a "really good" congee for dinner.

"Congee? I don't think I can eat any more."
"But it's only congee!"
"But it's practically one bowl of rice!"
"No! It's only half a bowl!"

"Really good" congee? I think I won't trust the boys that easily anymore.


A frivolous Sunday, it seemed. But I came to some realization that day.

And that is, I don't really quite know my new home very well. I ought to be ashamed of myself, really. Just a simple afternoon moving from one place to the next to another, and I walked along streets I never knew existed, saw buildings that intrigued me, discovered new basketball courts, spied restaurants and eateries that interested me.

I even found out where the Central Library is! Hurray!

I've always wanted to run away from here, every time I feel upset and energy-less, every time I feel I need a fresh and different environment to find myself again.

I think this is what I can do, if I can't run away.

I can always pretend to be a tourist on Sundays. After all, there must be enough MTR stations : )

Puppy Love

It was a very boring, end-November Tuesday morning...



Mojo: who this
Piper: ??
Piper: what?
Mojo: the dog - who is the dog!!
Piper: i'm piper
Piper: i cute hor
Piper: who are you?
Mojo: orh, very fair u've gotten
Piper: hahaha.... that's just what someone else just said
Piper: say i become snow white
Mojo: i am mojo. shall i scratch my balls? i am hot.
Piper: yeah... you look hot on the couch
Mojo: ya, but i remember u. u the one can swim one
Piper: yes honey
Mojo: hahaaa
Piper: hey
Piper: my mom's out of town these days
Piper: i can sneak out
Piper: wanna date?
Mojo: I KNWO!
Mojo: terrible
Mojo: huh?! go where?
Piper: grandma's busy with the stupid little kids
Piper: date lor
Mojo: ;) sure. we have a family here, we can take care of u
Piper: we go and chase cats
Mojo: ooh... i am scared of cats...
Mojo: i mostly like to watch tv and chew rugs....
Piper: huh? how old are you dude? still chewing rugs?


More like my bitch's flirting.

香港美女街

Barely a week after the whirlwind trip back home after the whirlwind meeting, the chicks turned up in the Honks for a whirlwind weekend.

And it's time.

It's just about time they come visit their lonely chick here. It's time we relive the memories.


We first did it back in 2006. A crazy weekend in the Honks. Just a weekend in June, that took place just before my very final meeting with the then-company started.

Just a weekend, but it was enough to make lifetime memories.




Two and a half years later, we are still the same.

Very much has happened since. One chick has expanded her business but incurred more frustration and stress, run away on a soul-enlightening trip to Tibet alone on her birthday, scared us all with her once-frequent 'disappearance' acts, found a new 'hobby' that whisks her away to week-long trips to Japan and Korea. The other has very fortunately changed work twice, bought swanky new wheels, become a co-owner of a new apartment.

The last one, well the last one has taken a short break from the corporate world, said goodbye to the place where she spent her last six formative years, embarked upon a journey marked with unknowns, had one of the best times of her life pretending to be a sports journalist and TV presenter, suddenly had a new bigger family, packed her bags and moved out of her hometown, had her heart enlivened then broken again, met many new people in her life, gone on adventures in places she'd never had the chance to see.

So much has happened, yet so little has changed.

We still drink. As much, if not more. We still love to eat. A lot. We still crap and joke. The same kind that not many others share with us. We still look like we live in 美女街. But of course.

Most of all, we are still the same crazy chicks.






I think I cannot tell them enough how much I love them.

I just hope my hugs and my constant irritating rubbish over the msn can do for now.

One day, perhaps sometime another thirty years down the road, you'll still find the three old chicks hanging out as usual.

Maybe on Friday nights, maybe not. But definitely with drinks. And still cracking jokes at crappy Taiwanese shows.