I'm so not ready for the New Year. Not only haven't I gotten my haircut yet, I find it extremely strenuous to stand the temptation of wearing my new clothes and shoes before the start of the year of the monkey. Also, I'm feeling too fat to see any of my relatives, who saw me last at the gathering at the start of the year of the ram, about seven pounds thinner
Having accumulated the experience from the last Chinese New Year, I see fit to prepare cue cards of personal information by Wednesday (Chinese New Year's eve). Information on my job, my love life, and my progress of readapting to life in Hong Kong, just to name a few of the things my relatives tend to interrogate on over civet cat dishes and Puli tea. Not because they're interested in knowing, but because they think they're being nice.
The good news is, with a family tree as flourished as mine, most relatives have agreed, for the sake of efficiency, to arrange one large gathering for everyone at once rather than having each individual family visiting every other family superior in ranking like the tradition goes. This way, instead of taking my cue cards all over Hong Kong, Kowloon and the New Territories during the whole of my four-day holiday, I could pretty much get on a roll with the same answers to the same questions with one person at a time, sitting in the same chair, in half a day's time. Much like speed dating, really.
Instead of Mr. Right, I’m hoping to settle a decent amount of red packet money. Hopefully enough to pay for the new clothes and shoes. Plus the haircut, if I'm lucky.
Monday, January 19, 2004
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
The Problem with People
The headline on today's Oriental Daily read "Blah blah blah, blah blah. Daughter of Hong Kong, Anita Mui". I vaguely remember our windsurfing queen Lee Lai-shan claiming that title in 1996. I hadn't realized that the glory of claiming the first Olympic gold medal for the city on a skill trained since the age of 12 was quite equivalent to that of making multi-gazillions off the city with a talent discovered at the age of four and spending most of it on friends.
Showing on TV yester day and night were endless footages of celebs and semi-celebs approaching the funeral home. The only one that kept my eyes on the screen for longer than two seconds was Mui's mother taking what must have been half an hour to get from a car parked right at the front to the elevator in the lobby of the funeral home. The swarm of photographers and their professional equipment hovering over the old lady's head reminded me of my daily commute on the MTR. Coincidentally, on that exact same morning at the Quarry Bay transfer, I had to shout at certain barbarians in suits for shoving me into the train when someone was clearly trying to get out.
What amazed me most was how the crowd of 150 or so reporters all decided that taking a few shots of a person walking from point A to B was so important as to risk crushing each other, or perhaps the old lady herself, or her grandchildren behind her, on such a mournful day, at the entrance of such a respected place.
Having browsed through entertainment news pages on most major papers today, I only spotted one picture of Mui's mom, and it was clearly taken at another occasion.
Showing on TV yester day and night were endless footages of celebs and semi-celebs approaching the funeral home. The only one that kept my eyes on the screen for longer than two seconds was Mui's mother taking what must have been half an hour to get from a car parked right at the front to the elevator in the lobby of the funeral home. The swarm of photographers and their professional equipment hovering over the old lady's head reminded me of my daily commute on the MTR. Coincidentally, on that exact same morning at the Quarry Bay transfer, I had to shout at certain barbarians in suits for shoving me into the train when someone was clearly trying to get out.
What amazed me most was how the crowd of 150 or so reporters all decided that taking a few shots of a person walking from point A to B was so important as to risk crushing each other, or perhaps the old lady herself, or her grandchildren behind her, on such a mournful day, at the entrance of such a respected place.
Having browsed through entertainment news pages on most major papers today, I only spotted one picture of Mui's mom, and it was clearly taken at another occasion.
Monday, January 5, 2004
(Don't want to call it) My New Year's Resolution
So that was it. The ever-so-depressing 2003 is officially over. Hopefully, the new year marks the end of terrorist attacks, SARS, and the Tung era.
Retail discounts and super savings continue with "Christmas Sale" signs replaced with "New Spring Sale" signs. Couldn't help but started spending my year-end bonus (which I still haven't received) on a shopping spree this past weekend.
A four-day weekend, that is. Considering the endless hours I spent in bed, I ought to think thrice before taking another annual leave for no good reason other than to brag to friends about having an extra long weekend. And I better make some kind of plans for the upcoming lunar new year four-day weekend.
Can't claim I had completely wasted the first few days of 2004 though, as I did catch the last glimpse of the beautiful Legolas Greenleaf on the big screen. Putting aside the aftertastes of soar neck and numb ass, it was three hours well spent.
I'm determined to lose 20lbs by summer this year, the proceedings of which I'm hoping this public proclamation will help encourage. Of course, it would help if people actually read my blog. Face is important, well, a thin face anyway. I've never been this heavy my entire life, not even the time I took up a summer job in central and gained 13lbs in five months. Although, I'm proud to say, given how desperate I am to blend in with this city of the underfed, when it comes to dieting, I insist on saying "no" to drugs. If only I had the same self-discipline with food.
Retail discounts and super savings continue with "Christmas Sale" signs replaced with "New Spring Sale" signs. Couldn't help but started spending my year-end bonus (which I still haven't received) on a shopping spree this past weekend.
A four-day weekend, that is. Considering the endless hours I spent in bed, I ought to think thrice before taking another annual leave for no good reason other than to brag to friends about having an extra long weekend. And I better make some kind of plans for the upcoming lunar new year four-day weekend.
Can't claim I had completely wasted the first few days of 2004 though, as I did catch the last glimpse of the beautiful Legolas Greenleaf on the big screen. Putting aside the aftertastes of soar neck and numb ass, it was three hours well spent.
I'm determined to lose 20lbs by summer this year, the proceedings of which I'm hoping this public proclamation will help encourage. Of course, it would help if people actually read my blog. Face is important, well, a thin face anyway. I've never been this heavy my entire life, not even the time I took up a summer job in central and gained 13lbs in five months. Although, I'm proud to say, given how desperate I am to blend in with this city of the underfed, when it comes to dieting, I insist on saying "no" to drugs. If only I had the same self-discipline with food.
Monday, December 29, 2003
Given how...
non-giddy I was about this Christmas holiday, it was much a shocker for me to end up having as much fun as I did. Besides the typical company party, the only plan I made for myself was a half decent dinner on the 24th with a few close friends. Who would've guessed I'd end up staying out late four nights in a row?!
Went to a house party of someone I was only going to meet for the first time after that dinner on Christmas Eve. None other than the ultimately tasteful gay couple could’ve pulled off such fabulous décor. It was like walking into the TV set into a real life version of Queer Eye, minus the straight guy. Their omigod rooftop where the party was held and their oh…my…GOD! apartment underneath had me longing over my very own 500-sq-ft space in the heart of Happy Valley for the four days following. (Their apartment was in fact twice that size, but the fab two also made way more than twice my salary.)
The rest of my "staying out late four nights in a row" involved much of discovering and rediscovering friendship with a bunch of individuals. I've realized larger distances than I was happy to admit to with certain who's, but have discovered along the way that that really doesn't matter. My all-time favorite restaurant Crystal Jade's third branch, conveniently located in Harbour City, opened up on Christmas Eve. What more could I wish for?!
Oh, and absolutely fell in love with the song "All I want for Christmas is you". Just watch me give a live performance of it on a tabletop drunk on New Year's Eve.
If only my Editor-in-Chief hadn't won that DVD player I really really REALLY wanted at our company party, I might actually be giddy.
Went to a house party of someone I was only going to meet for the first time after that dinner on Christmas Eve. None other than the ultimately tasteful gay couple could’ve pulled off such fabulous décor. It was like walking into the TV set into a real life version of Queer Eye, minus the straight guy. Their omigod rooftop where the party was held and their oh…my…GOD! apartment underneath had me longing over my very own 500-sq-ft space in the heart of Happy Valley for the four days following. (Their apartment was in fact twice that size, but the fab two also made way more than twice my salary.)
The rest of my "staying out late four nights in a row" involved much of discovering and rediscovering friendship with a bunch of individuals. I've realized larger distances than I was happy to admit to with certain who's, but have discovered along the way that that really doesn't matter. My all-time favorite restaurant Crystal Jade's third branch, conveniently located in Harbour City, opened up on Christmas Eve. What more could I wish for?!
Oh, and absolutely fell in love with the song "All I want for Christmas is you". Just watch me give a live performance of it on a tabletop drunk on New Year's Eve.
If only my Editor-in-Chief hadn't won that DVD player I really really REALLY wanted at our company party, I might actually be giddy.
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Winter Prep
Can't believe it's going to drop to 10 or possibly NINE degrees Celsius this coming weekend. Better lay out my leather coat or it'll never see daylight in Hong Kong. And of course, my good old U of T sweat. After all, "Mothball" is the only most popular fragrance for the winter season.
Winters as dry as this for some people translates to random breakouts. It's been an entire week now that my colleagues haven't been able to look me in the eyes when talking to me because they’re too busy counting the number of zits on my face.
But I finally found the heart to spare 15 minutes for a Neutrogena Fine Fairness mask last night, and by the looks of it, my face would be cleared up by the weekend if only I can stay away from that bonus Maltesers pack that came with the purchase of the Neutrogena. Damn those super savings.
Winters as dry as this for some people translates to random breakouts. It's been an entire week now that my colleagues haven't been able to look me in the eyes when talking to me because they’re too busy counting the number of zits on my face.
But I finally found the heart to spare 15 minutes for a Neutrogena Fine Fairness mask last night, and by the looks of it, my face would be cleared up by the weekend if only I can stay away from that bonus Maltesers pack that came with the purchase of the Neutrogena. Damn those super savings.
Friday, December 12, 2003
Tough Call
Since receiving an unofficial warning from my manager that he "wishes everyone would come into the office at 9 o'clock every morning", I've been readjusting my clock and waking up earlier everyday. And I’m not just saying this because my manager might come across this blog one of these days.
The trouble of being a lady is, no matter how "comfortable" our shoes are marketed as being, they just aren't Nike's. And in the split second before the train doors close, and when you only have a minute and a half to get from the MTR station up to the shuttle bus stop, a distance that normally takes four minutes to travel, "to sprint or not to sprint" is the question.
I can't work out which I should feel most embarrassed about: dashing through MTR stations in heals and falling flat on the face, getting myself caught in the middle of the closing train doors, or my manager giving me a look I can't quite put in words when I walked in at 9:25 this morning.
The trouble of being a lady is, no matter how "comfortable" our shoes are marketed as being, they just aren't Nike's. And in the split second before the train doors close, and when you only have a minute and a half to get from the MTR station up to the shuttle bus stop, a distance that normally takes four minutes to travel, "to sprint or not to sprint" is the question.
I can't work out which I should feel most embarrassed about: dashing through MTR stations in heals and falling flat on the face, getting myself caught in the middle of the closing train doors, or my manager giving me a look I can't quite put in words when I walked in at 9:25 this morning.
Thursday, December 11, 2003
The Season of Giving
I've yet to start my Christmas shopping, but I've officially started working on the list. Because my writing job doesn't pay as well as my old teaching job, I've decided yesterday that it wouldn't be totally inappropriate for my Christmas budget to go to those who've been reading this blog on a regularly basis (referred to as "the coalition" below).
This decision was not meant to punish non-readers of this blog. I did not have the intent of being punitive when developing this resolution. It was designed to encourage more people to join the coalition; those not now in the coalition may qualify and earn a place in my list by reading this blog or simply declaring themselves members of the coalition.
It would be a welcome gesture if someone decided to join the coalition, even if he/she simply offered support by stating his/her intention to join without actually reading this blog. That involves going to parties, private or public, which the Writress would also be attending, and saying, "I read Winnie’s blog!" knowing that its controversial, it's boring, it's full of grammatical mistakes, and it's not even updated regularly.
I determined that it is in my personal popularity interest to restrict my list because it would encourage more people to read this blog.
Although non-readers of this blog will not be receiving any Christmas presents from the Writress, they might still be entitled to receiving e-cards or the like.
This decision was not meant to punish non-readers of this blog. I did not have the intent of being punitive when developing this resolution. It was designed to encourage more people to join the coalition; those not now in the coalition may qualify and earn a place in my list by reading this blog or simply declaring themselves members of the coalition.
It would be a welcome gesture if someone decided to join the coalition, even if he/she simply offered support by stating his/her intention to join without actually reading this blog. That involves going to parties, private or public, which the Writress would also be attending, and saying, "I read Winnie’s blog!" knowing that its controversial, it's boring, it's full of grammatical mistakes, and it's not even updated regularly.
I determined that it is in my personal popularity interest to restrict my list because it would encourage more people to read this blog.
Although non-readers of this blog will not be receiving any Christmas presents from the Writress, they might still be entitled to receiving e-cards or the like.
Monday, December 1, 2003
Season's Grieving
I've decided not to celebrate my coming birthday. Putting aside the fact that the new number represents an invisible deadline I haven't been able to meet, I've grown to loathe "celebration" for anything as defined by the Hong Kong dictionary.
Since four or five years ago, birthdays, Christmases, New Year countdowns, Good Fridays, National Days, and numerous long weekends for me had all translated to "getting pissed drunk" in a karaoke room or at a bar with a bunch of friends' friends. Things have changed during the past two years and I've more or less moved to a spectator's role.
Just two days ago, I was invited to karaoke as a celebration for a good friend's 27th birthday. I said four things to him the entire night: "happy birthday", "I want a glass of that too", "thank you", and "happy birthday, bye". Though I'm sure there were others in the room who had said less than four things to him.
And nobody even got drunk.
Although we've all come to tolerate/support using someone, anyone's birthday as an excuse to party, watching a dear friend's special day go by like that just made my friend as un-special as the "friendship" among the party's attendees. Half the people there didn't know his actual birthday or how old he was turning, and at least one person didn't even know that it was someone's birthday.
Heck, now I don't even feel like celebrating Christmas. It's long been my favorite holiday, but now that I think about it, I can't recall any points to validate the claim.
Then of course, there was the split second last week when I gazed into the artificial snow gushing out from vents near the ceiling inside City Plaza and found myself filled with emotions. If it wasn't for the screaming kids hogging the scenery I might have really been able to enjoy the moment.
Since four or five years ago, birthdays, Christmases, New Year countdowns, Good Fridays, National Days, and numerous long weekends for me had all translated to "getting pissed drunk" in a karaoke room or at a bar with a bunch of friends' friends. Things have changed during the past two years and I've more or less moved to a spectator's role.
Just two days ago, I was invited to karaoke as a celebration for a good friend's 27th birthday. I said four things to him the entire night: "happy birthday", "I want a glass of that too", "thank you", and "happy birthday, bye". Though I'm sure there were others in the room who had said less than four things to him.
And nobody even got drunk.
Although we've all come to tolerate/support using someone, anyone's birthday as an excuse to party, watching a dear friend's special day go by like that just made my friend as un-special as the "friendship" among the party's attendees. Half the people there didn't know his actual birthday or how old he was turning, and at least one person didn't even know that it was someone's birthday.
Heck, now I don't even feel like celebrating Christmas. It's long been my favorite holiday, but now that I think about it, I can't recall any points to validate the claim.
Then of course, there was the split second last week when I gazed into the artificial snow gushing out from vents near the ceiling inside City Plaza and found myself filled with emotions. If it wasn't for the screaming kids hogging the scenery I might have really been able to enjoy the moment.
Friday, November 14, 2003
Tic...Toc...Tic...Toc...
100 bucks says that Crocodile Dundee: Live in Yuen Long will attract a bigger crowd than Prince did.
I'm surprised no feng shui consultant has commented on the effects of the chomping jaws on the Hong Kong economy.
The use of dead chickens and other baits has proved ineffective in capturing the croc thus far. After a two-hour conference among student representatives from eight universities last night, an agreement has been reached to use horsemeat instead.
I'm surprised no feng shui consultant has commented on the effects of the chomping jaws on the Hong Kong economy.
The use of dead chickens and other baits has proved ineffective in capturing the croc thus far. After a two-hour conference among student representatives from eight universities last night, an agreement has been reached to use horsemeat instead.
Thursday, November 6, 2003
Bad Credit
I don't believe in karma the way it was depicted in Andy Lau's "Running on Karma", but I do believe that one ultimately pays for what he/she has done in one way or another.
The Green River Killer might be free from the capital punishment, but I bet his inmates can't wait to ensure he dies 48 very horrible deaths in prison.
The Green River Killer might be free from the capital punishment, but I bet his inmates can't wait to ensure he dies 48 very horrible deaths in prison.
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