안녕하십니까

Finally.

At long last.

And it turned out a little more, sometimes a little less, than what I've been imagining it to be all this while.



The Namdaemun Gate.


Steaming hot and juicy dumplings in chilling winter that could make one's dislike for porky pork dissipate.


The ajumma at the roadside puchangmacha who fed us dinner.


I don't know, but it must have been some radish cake. No eggs, I'm sure though.


炒年糕！


My craving for fried tung hoon was thus satisfied.


Moo moo moo moo mmMMmmMMmmmoo.


The deceptively healthy beer made from "naturally fresh water" that washed down all the junk.


Soju, the drink for the broken-hearted, but not the faint-hearted.


The freakin' nine-course roadside meal that cost me a hundred grand in Korean won. Yes, five 'zeroes' at the back. Yes, that's a hundred US dollars.

And YES, AUNTIE HERE GOT CONNED BIG-TIME!!!


The freakin' conwoman who fed us, warmed us, then cheated us. And who probably closed shop for the next couple of days.


My one-time daily fix that I have been missing for the past five months.


Bu-Gol-Gi... Bu-Gol-Gi... Bu-Gol-Gi... Bu-Gol-Gi...


I think beautiful blue skies tend to follow wherever I may go. : )


Right. I'm pretty sure I had seen this exact picturesque scenery in Seattle.


There is always tea-time anytime when I travel.


The barley rice cake that we waited freakin' fifteen minutes for.


And then, in a matter of an hour, I thought I was teleported to Little Italy in Frisco.


Four in the p.m.


This, of all names, is called the "Hangover Soup". I didn't have to be hungover to like it.


Myeongdong in the night. Colder than Tokyo. Less crowded than Honks. Almost as much food as Taipei.


The ice-skating rink at the City Hall, outside the Seoul Plaza Hotel. I think I must have seen this place in some drama. And I wanna say, I make a darned good navigator of complicated subway systems.


It actually snowed a little on the last morning. So little, so quick to melt... I didn't actually see snow.


Look Ma! No leggings/stockings/pants/socks/whatever! And it's just zero degree in the Celsius!


Three-thirty in the p.m. On the way back home.


So there. Four Asian cities in two weeks.

A food odyssey that came and then had to go.

I have eaten more than I possibly could in any given two-week period. I have more memories than I possibly could expect.


It's time to get back into the clothes.

Fifteen clicks in two days. And it's hoops time now.


I walked around Seoul for two days, with my balls hanging loose.

Aptness

Picture Story

I am already missing Tokyo, and wondering when again I'll be back.

It was but three short days...



Break of day.


Fallen leaves.


Beef yakitori.


Peng kang wings.


Yummiest garlic ever.


Done.


What else?


Oden in winter.


Beautiful people.


Crazy colleague.


And some more.


Ugg-ly feet.


The fling aptly named Takumi.


The love note.


The last breakfast.


Onigiri obsession - for the road.


Glee.

日本のベーブ

Here I am, half the time not quite believing my luck, back in the land of orgasm-inducing O-toro-land.

First night only, kenna shiok’d.

This trip looks promising.


This is not cold, this is not cold, this is not cold, this is not yet cold…

Though a mere hour of walking around had been just enough to leave me looking like a flushed Rudolf with fingers that no longer felt part of my body, I insist that this is still not cold.

This cannot be cold.

Unfortunately though, my resolution to not shop this trip round seems likely to be broken. I will fucking need a bloody down jacket soon.


On a brighter note, I do have a couple of thanks to give.

For one, I am so not regretting my Ugg-ly boots. My laughing toes must be the happiest parts of my body, jeering at their northern digital relatives.

For two, I am so so glad I have a wonderful travel companion for this otherwise boring-like-hell trip.




I think I also want to take back my words.

Sometimes, I don’t really hate meetings and business trips, where all I ever do is eat, fall asleep during meetings and then eat eat eat. And especially if it’s during winter.

上海妹妹

The one thing that amazes me about Shanghai is that it is ever-changing.

Like, ever-y-time changing.

The Shanghai I have seen for the past two days doesn’t seem like the Shanghai I had seen just three months ago.

New buildings. New streets. New roads. New lights.

Fuck. Even the people seem friendlier. Especially the cab drivers.

What the hell happened to my 夜上海?




I love winters, even if they make me jump like a monkey on the street.

Without winters, how would I be able to enjoy hotpots the way they should rightfully be enjoyed?

Oh, by the way, I really hate meetings and business trips. ‘Cos all you ever really do is eat, fall asleep during meetings, and then eat eat eat. Especially if it’s during winter.




I love 上海.

But perhaps even more if not for the smoggy air.

And if not for a weird five-star hotel that shuts its power down in the middle of the night.

How the fuck am I going to go to bed now?

Still, for the fuckin’ awesome cap I picked up here (my sixth in two weeks) and for the fuckin’ awesome Tsing Tao Gold I tasted tonight, I love上海.


This is not cold, this is not cold, this is not cold, this is not cold…

I’ve got more to go.

Ooh, I can't wait to get to the airport in a couple of hours'.

“你是台湾人吗？”

我不是啊。

我只是看太多综艺节目了。


Yes, I have watched too much of those silly programs, I have actually felt extremely deprived in the past five months I’ve been in the Honks.

(And yes, it has been five months. And today, I am thanking my lucky stars, if any.)

So I snuck a trip up north to Taipei three days ago.

I couldn’t go home, for some silly reason. And I really didn’t want to stay back in the office and forego a break. Most of all, I needed to get away.

So I bought a ticket – the cheapest ticket I could possibly buy to get out of the Honks, methinks – just four days before I left.

And what a trip. A long-awaited, much-anticipated one that I ended up making alone.

Guess what?

我爱台北。


Taipei, to me, is part America, part Tokyo, part Bangkok, and most of all, very Taiwanese.

Where else would I hear the very soothing “kan nin nia” almost everywhere I went? My teeth almost fell out laughing when I heard the announcement made over the PA system in the trains – in Hokkien.

To me, Hokkien has never been considered an official language – unless you’re a beng.

I don’t know. Must have been the environment I grew up in.

The short buildings in the city, the vastness of the blue sky, the parking lots. The vibrance of the youth, the Metro stations, the trains, the signboards, the orderliness and subdued politeness of the people, and of course, those quirky stores in the pseudo-Harajuku backstreet lanes of Zhongxiao Dunhua Nan Lu selling a multitude of – what else? – Japanese imports. The modern buildings built in between ancient, broken-down shophouses, the foodcarts that suddenly pop up just along any other street in the city, the scarce tables and chairs for “eat-in” customers, the tiny bowls of noodles.

But there’s just something different about Taipei. Maybe it has got to do with how everything that seems to come from some other part of the world fuses together seamlessly and turns out quirky in its own sweet way. Maybe it has got to do with the fact that food is indeed everywhere, every nook every corner literally – even though ninety percent of them sell exactly the same kinds of foods.

But I tend to think, it has got to do with the people.

The friendly folks who speak to me like they come right out of the silly entertainment programs, making it so easy for me to talk the way I do – “cock”, that is. Most conversations are fun and light-hearted. I get my daily fix of human interaction, and I get my fair share of tips and advice too.

Like, how would I know that to get to the Shilin Night Market, you get off at the Jiantan metro station and not the Shilin station?


I have tried my darned best. To eat as much as I could.

No, let me put it another way. I ate as often as I could, not necessarily much. Like the day I decided to restaurant-hop during lunch, since I figured I would not have enough time to savor everything everyone says I should. I just had to leave every restaurant I sat my butt down in with half my bowl still full.

The food has not been disappointing, but it hasn’t wowed me either. I have my reservations about the beef noodles – I can’t decide which Asian country makes the best beef noodles thus far.

Oh, one thing though. The smelly tofu here, strangely, smells sweeter than er… smelly. Like it really is in the Honks.

There are so many restaurants and foodcarts everywhere, more often than not, I get very frustrated. You know how bad at making decisions I am.

How the fark am I going to choose between stall A and B and C and D and E and F, and very often, G as well – when they are all clustered together selling Orh A Jian?

It’s alright.

I’ll be back.


It’s six in the morning. I have not slept a wink. And in another hour and a half, I will be waiting by the roadside for the airport bus.

I just hope it’s not too chilly out there.

I hate to leave, but I am also glad to leave too. My bleeding has worsened, but with much pleasure.

我爱台北。

*****

“一个人来台北玩不会无聊吗？”

“不会啊！”


一个人独自旅行不会无聊。

一个人独自生活就可能会。

Bleeding

Picture this scenario, all ye Singaporean doods.

It’s one of ‘em damn damp days in otherwise still-bledy hot Singapore.

Surprise, surprise. You get an itsy bitsy mossie bite on your leg/thigh/arm/wherever.

You decide to act hero and leave it alone, knowing you can tahan the temptation.

Then, one more pops up on your leg/thigh/arm/wherever.

And then, another. And soon enough, the synergistic itchy effect drives you so crazy you can’t even keep proper count of the dots all over your limbs.

And then, you lose it. The willpower.

You start picking at one itsy bitsy one first.

Then you start feeling itchy elsewhere, so you pick on the second one. Until you decide you feel itchy all over, and you revisit Mossie Bite #1 again.

With more furious scratching. Very determined to stop the itch once and for all.

But Mossies’ Law decrees that, an itch begets more itch. That is, if you cannot resist the temptation in the first place.

From an originally itsy bitsy prick on the surface of your skin (which could have eventually disappeared on its own accord, leaving your skin flawless like it once was), it turns swollen and red and eventually it becomes a raw open wound.

And then you start to bleed. But not before you start feeling tiny stings of pain of your raw skin exposed to the evilness of the air.

And then, patches of ba gua form and scars eventually linger.

As man fails to resist temptation, an itch not only begets more itch; it ends up as a painful scar.


I suppose Hongkies would never quite understand the pain Singies go through.

I arrived in summer, got though supposed fall and am now shivering at times in winter.

I never got one single problem with mossie bites. Yes, I did keep note.

Still, it doesn’t mean I never got itchy here in Hong Kong.

There’s something called “backside itchiness” also. Not necessarily mossie bite-induced.

Then, there’s something known as “wallet itchiness”.. Definitely not mossie bite-induced.

I always get backside itchiness, I can’t control it so I’m learning to live with it. Wallet itchiness though, I don’t get usually. Or rather, I usually have better resistance toward it.

But just like the itsy bitsy mossie bite that nips at your skin, wallet itchiness nags at you but one day, becomes so overwhelming you can’t resist it no more.

And then, just like a dog scratching furiously at its ear, you start taking out your wallet furiously.

The one-item shopping list becomes just a farce. In fact, it becomes that mossie that causes you to start scratching unnecessarily like a monkey in the first place.


Sigh.

I am so bleeding right now.

One Week

I didn't realize.

That I haven't spoken for a week.


And I also realized.

That I have not also turned on the air-conditioning at home for a week.

The money I get to save on electricity still ain't gonna pay for the coats I have to get.

Bus

Oh yes, this almost slipped my groggy mind.

I hopped onto a bus from work, for the first time and rather mindlessly too, put Jay on repeat, and rode all the way back to town on the upper deck.

Never mind the free flowing air-conditioning just like anywhere else in Honks, it felt good.

Really good.

Tooth Angel

The root of my misery over the past two days has finally been eradicated.  For a rather hefty price of HKD680.

I have never felt this much pain.  I have never looked this helpless, cringing under the blanket in tears, rolling around in bed for hours.  I never had pain have me lose sleep this bad.  I have never had the feeling of wanting to just kill myself this bad.

I have never cried this much, this bad over a bad tooth.

Or, was it?

I just know I am so tired now.  My eyes are so tired now.  Inside out, I am so tired now.

I have brought work home again for the weekend, for nothing.

I really can't bear to look at those boxes in the excel sheets now.

Only five more weeks to go.  To what, I don't really know.  

But we always look forward to the end of the year, to the start of another, don't we?

Even if it's just for some pure faint hope.

I'm just looking forward to the next five weeks.  Maybe just four.  Or, maybe it's just three.

There are places to go, passport stamps to collect.  Old favorites, new cities.  There's somewhere I've always been wanting to go, never had the chance to go, but I have just decided I am going to go anyhow.

And then, of course... there's home awaiting.

Screw the kiam cai policy.  There's always January.  

I just want to disappear.

Let me act the fag box here.

Always, always remember to brush twice a day, visit your friendly (and very rich) dentist twice a year, and floss floss floss.

Itch

When a woman is happy, she buys a bag.

When a woman is sad, she also buys a bag.

Whenever a woman wants it, she just buys a bag.

- The Original Fatmama, November 2007

I have a very, very strong itch to just go out to the mall and buy something.

Anything.

Many, many things.

Thoughts

For the past two days, I have been thinking about Tommy again.

Tommy and I had a turbulent start. Like we were almost not meant to be, yet I could never unlove him - even if he didn't love me at first.

And then, barely weeks after we started our relationship, Tommy and I knew it for certain. That we were indeed not meant to be.

Tommy and I pretty much had our days together numbered.

Yet we were put in each other's path in this lifetime of ours.

I had a choice, of course, me being the upper hand.

But I could never do it. Looking into Tommy's eyes, I could never bear to cut our days short, cut our ties off.

There was the familiar question of rationality against emotion.

But I decided. If it was not time yet, I would never let go of Tommy.

Sure the day would eventually come. But before then, we would be happy together. That must have been the reason why Tommy was put in my path, in my lifetime. I would make him happy before it all ended.

So how would we know when it was time to let go? We would just know. Tommy would let me know. I would just know.

I cried and I mourned when I had to finally let Tommy go.

That is just life.

Tommy and I spent just about three months together.

Then Piper came into my life, and we have become each other's destiny.

Tommy and I had no everlasting story to talk about. Yet the impact of him, the meaning to my life, he remains a part of me I will never stop thinking nor talking about.

In the short time we did have together, he would hurt me often, even biting me and leaving me in tears. But I would never unlove him. And I will tell his story, my peculiar love, to my grandkids one day.

Tommy was, and always will be, my dog. My love. That one little spot in the corner of my heart.

This is me.

Do you really know?

15:2

If you were me, wouldn't you feel a little cheated too when you had spent more than fifteen minutes waiting for your chicken drumstick to be cooked, and then less than two minutes cleaning it to the bone?

*****

So far, I have run pretty much.  Cooked a little.   Read very little.  Stoned a lot.  Chilled a lot too.  Ironed none, 'cept for the wrinkled tee shirt I had insisted on wearing today.  Mopped only that bit of the floor where I've dripped some detergent upon.

I have done two lunch-ins.  Three sandwiches.  One sushi roll.  One chicken drumstick that seemed to have shrunk upon steaming.  One lousy omelette.  Half a bottle of red.  Mouthfuls of grapes.  Endless packets of addictive wang wang biscuits.  Two cartons of soya milk.  Didn't really eat a lot.

And I haven't been able to get out by six.

Oh, but I have watched six episodes of probably the only Taiwanese serial that has ever impressed me.

The sink's still mucked up.  The hot water's fooling around with me.

I had my blood boil.  And I had my heart wince.

So I suppose I still don't feel quite normal yet.

Innocence

Overheard over the phone...

The older little one asking his mommy:  "姑姑 also got baby sister in her stomach?"

CHOY CHOY CHOY!  Tai ge lai si!  

Don't let 奶奶 hear that.