moody meanderings

Just eight days to Paris. Yes, I'm going to the most romantic and charming city in the world, but I can only stay the weekend. All because there's so much I have to handle here for an upcoming event in Beijing and the Lunar new year holidays in between don't help. Grrrr....Last time I was in Paris, I had only a day and a half. This time, I have half a day more than the last. I'm going to have to make the extra hours count. I'd love to salsa in Paris but I'm nervous that no one's going to want to dance with me. I realise that sounds totally pathetic but that's the god-honest truth. Boo hoo hoo.

Hey, to avoid being late this time, let me wish you all a happy eve of New Year's eve! This year, I have a party to go to. The newly engaged couple has invited a bunch of people over for free food and drink to accompany them for the countdown tomorrow night. I'll admit I hesitated with the RSVP, being without a date and all. But I've decided to go as it is just a two minute cab ride away from my place. Besides, it's that or another new year's eve alone at home. Who knows, maybe amongst the list of mostly women she invited, some interesting dateless man might show up. Maybe.

I've been spending the last few nights IM-ing a twenty-four year old Brisbanian. My life has been reduced to online dating! It isn't as bad as I make it sound though. There's nothing seedy about it. And it isn't even a date. We've just become chat buddies. But it is sad if that's all that's left to my social life. That and six episodes of Sex and the City straight up! OK, maybe it is as bad as it sounds....

They have left. All is deafeningly silent now. There were days when I coveted my space, privacy, solitude, quietude. Days when it was impossible to get the kids to behave. Days when the kids were acting up. Days when they told and compounded lies upon lies. Days when I thought if they were gone today, it wouldn't be soon enough. Then today dawned and it was too soon. Much too soon. *sigh*...How quickly the days following Christmas flew. The days leading up to Christmas were packed with activities. I planned it that way, leaving time at the end to re-do some favourite activities or do stuff that was forgotten on the list. It proved to speed time up as hours were lost to morning sleep-ins. I'll know better next time.

Last evening, I left them with my sister's husband's family while I went to dance practice. I then joined the dance group at a dinner party hosted by one of the women in the group. It was an incredible meal. At the end of the meal, amidst a lot of teasing and prompting, one of the women announced that her boyfriend of six months had proposed. More importantly, she had accepted. Boyfriend blushed and beamed. How sweet. Just three weeks ago over a group dinner, she had proclaimed to us that she just knew this was the man for her. And now, they were on the way to the altar. I guess there is magic afterall.

I'm tired. I think I'll take a nap.

I realise I'm a bit late with that wish. It's been a busy week. Christmas eve was spent recovering from zipping around Macau the day before, then grocery shopping and preparing for the family dinner, followed by Christmas eve candlelight service. It was beautiful. Our hundred or so lit candles seventy-five stories high joining the sprightly city lights below. Christmas eve candlelight service was followed by a home-made three-course dinner. Cooking for five is a monumental challenge in a kitchen meant for preparation of meals for two. Then it was time for "The Grinch", which ended just after midnight. That brought us to Christmas morn so the kids got to their presents before bed.

Christmas morning service was a moving experience. Seven or eight candidates were being baptised that day. Each shared their faith journey before receiving the baptismal waters. One candidate was a last minute addition to the list. She was just eight. She went to bed seeking a sign that Jesus was real. She woke up on Christmas morn to a strange dream. She was standing before a raging river edged with sharp objects on the near side bank. She wanted to cross the river but was fearful of being hurt by the sharp objects. She called out to Jesus who said to her, "If you do not cross the river, you will not go anywhere." To which she cried, "I'm afraid. Help me." Christ said to her, "Do not be afraid. You will not be hurt." And she crossed the river and she was unhurt. She related the dream to her mother who took it as a sign for her baptism. Wow!

After the frightful rides at the World Carnival on Sunday, the kids were game for more terrifying rides. It was a test of courage as we went from one fright after another, beginning with the Mine Train which left me with whiplash. My neck is sore today from the tension of keeping my head together. Literally. After the Mine Train, the kids swore they would avoid the Abyss at all cost. Nothing, not anything could persuade them to take the plunge. The Abyss is a vertical drop of more than ten stories high. The kids chose rides around the Abyss, careful to avoid walking into the wrong line. Instead, they chose the seemingly harmless Crazy Galleon -- an oversized ship that swung back and forth at steep angles. Yes, another Batman, but one that didn't leave you hanging off your seats upside down. However, the seats on this had no safety harness. Only handrails to hold on to. It seemed safe enough until my nephew yelled out, "I'm falling off my seat!" It was deja vu terror for me. My sister and I instinctively threw our arms, one across his chest, the other his legs, to keep him from hurtling off his seat. That was the last sound he made. The rest of the ride saw his head buried deep in his shoulder, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his face, an expression of sheer terror. At the end of the ride, we thought he might be in tears. Instead, he enthused as he staggered off the ship, "Let's do it again!" I was sure he had lost his mind by then. As soon as we were out the gate, we were back in line for another go. By the end of the second ride, my niece had developed a stomach of steel and was ready for the formidable Abyss. How could I back out now? My stomach was queasy from the thought of the drop but I was too proud to be the one to back out. So off we went. She, prancing off towards the steel cage of death while I was trying my best to keep my steps light.

The Abyss was a lot easier than it appeared. Perhaps "easy" isn't quite the right word. The truth is, there was no time to feel any of the fear knotted in your belly. By the time your body realised it had taken the plunge, it was over. No time for screams or uneasy giggles. Of course, that meant a knot remained balled up in your belly at the end of the ride. So, off we went for a second round to get rid of that unspent terror. Having done it once, we were prepared with our screams this time, letting out a holler as soon as the drop occurred, never mind that it hadn't hit our system yet. By the third go, we had persuaded my nephew, against his wishes, to take the ride. Determined to build his courage, he went along, face turning purple as we got closer to the front of the line. But even as we suggested that he take the exit at that point, he changed his mind and took his seat. I was thrilled that they were pushing themselves and testing their own limits. It was encouraging to see them perservere past their fears. Afterall, isn't that the very basics of passionate living? To challenge our personal limits? They learned that giving up is a thrilling ride lost. If they gained nothing else from this trip, they would still have learned an important enough life lesson.

Today was a day for the adults. Macau. That says it all.

The family arrived Saturday afternoon on schedule. Only, I didn't know what the schedule was so I hung around at Nury's book-signing event at Dymock's, singing Christmas tunes with the elder of his two daughters, until I got the call. "Where are you? We're here." Oooops!! I left with six copies of Nury's latest book. All but one autographed. I think it might be fun for my niece to ask for his autograph herself.

It was the coldest day of the season. I had a big bag full of warm clothes for the three kids. After the kids were done jumping all over their favourite aunt (meaning me, of course), we jumped into two taxis and returned to my apartment. My nephew was thoroughly tickled by the "antique" elevator. Something he'd only seen in the movies until then. The kids were unaccustomed to the cold and complained about cold fingers and cheeks despite the thick clothes. I had assumed they would enjoy winter and had previously booked dinner at the Peak Lookout outdoors. When the restaurant called to confirm that we wanted a table outdoors, the kids nodded their enthusiasm. They changed their minds when we were seated at our table. Sometimes, you have to allow the kids to make their own decisions and let them deal with the consequences. Other times, you just have to make the decisions despite them.

Yesterday, we spent the later part of the afternoon at the World Carnival. A big banner advertises "FREE ADMISSION". When I got to the token booths, it finally dawned on me, "Nothing is for FREE". As I had no idea how many tokens an average ride would cost and wasn't able to make the lady at the booth understand my question I bought a hundred dollars worth of tokens to start with, thinking that I could go back for more after the first couple of rides. The first ride wiped out everything I had. I ended up spending six hundred on rides and games. (Reminder to self: pace yourself.)

At the fair, I left it to the kids to decide what rides to take. We started with the Euro Coaster. That was a wee bit of a thrill for me. But a bit much for the kids who don't ever see carnivals of this sort in Singapore. And even if they did, no one else in my family has the stomach for the rides. A mite shaken from the first ride, my niece decides on "Batman", which looks like a giant swing when it isn't moving. Nephew was a bit short for the ride but they let him through after a breath's hesitation. "Do you want to leave your bag or glasses here?" the attendent asked. No, my pack is in my coat and my glasses stay on my face, thank you very much. I reply, "No, that's ok." I should have realised then that we were in for one hell of a ride. That would have been a moment for an executive decision. A veto. But we were already being strapped in. It was a giant swing alright. One that went all the way and stopped for a few hearbeats upside-down. Our hearts stopped. I was sure of it. My niece started screaming from the word 'go'. Her eyes were squeezed tight shut. She was sitting across from me and I was so glad our feet could touch. It assured her just a tad though she probably didn't realise it until later. I grabbed my nephew's hands through the safety harness. I screamed like I've never done. I screamed from the sheer terror that he might slip out of the harness as we hung off our seats upside down. I wanted the ride over but it went on longer than I can remember any ride going. When I realised there was nothing I could do about the ride, I relaxed and allowed myself to enjoy the adrenaline rush of hurtling through the air upside down.

Today, it is Ocean Park again. They have winter games, I learned from a brochure obtained at Toys R Us. No adult roller coaster rides for a while. I need my sanity. Have to go now. More later.

If you enjoy Nury Vittachi's writings, you may be interested to learn that he is launching the third book in his "Feng Shui Detective" series -- "The Feng Shui Detective Goes SouthCasebook". I think it will make a great gift, especially when autographed. I'm getting a copy for my boss and a couple of friends each. Nury will be on hand at Dymocks located in IFC this Saturday between one-thirty and three-thirty to sign the books. Perfect!

My sister and family arrive that same Saturday afternoon so I will be going from book-signing event to family meet-and-greet. Hopefully, I will have done all my Christmas shopping by then. I'm already panicking with just one and a half days left to shop for the three kids and two adults. Aaahhh!!!

Here's something that made me laugh. A very sweet and totally misguided reader actually nominated this meandering gibberish for a "Best Hong Kong Blog" nomination at Phil's Asia Weblog Awards. It is all very flattering but I rather suspect you must have been drunk or high on something when you made the nomination. I'll bet this is one nomination that won't be receiving any cheating votes! Unless, of course, you count the first drunk nomination. All the same, thank you very much for your vote of appreciation.

I finally had a maid service clean my place on Monday. It was nice to return to a clean apartment. Except that it isn't quite like doing it myself. I'm not big on house-work but when I do get to it, the floors and general surfaces are clean after I'm through. When a contractor does it, the dust under the bed and sofa, on the window sill and the rug don't get served their eviction notice. So, I ended up vacuuming tonight.

Salsa god came by to help me put up hooks on the walls for the pictures and mirror which arrived on the weekend. I hate not being able to do these things myself. I borrowed the hammer from him and proceeded to chip the plaster off the wall because I couldn't give it the good whack I was supposed to. Fearing that I might bring the walls down if I persisted, I then bribed him over with lunch this afternoon followed by some tonic soup this evening. My pictures are up but the mirror has no place to go as the intended wall has a thick layer of plaster which won't hold the hook.

I miss J. We spoke yesterday and today. He makes me laugh. It is so unhealthy, I know. I miss him so. I miss having good friends. I miss the friends I made at the Asiaworks course I did a few years ago. I miss having someone to hug and not worry about "what ifs". I miss people I once thought were friends only to find them gone when it became clear to them that all I wanted was friendship. Where did the friendship go? Was it just a guise for sex? I've learned that men and women cannot be "just good friends". It is not in our biological make-up. Now, I'm all depressed. I should sleep.

Saddam Hussein has been captured. An international villain has been incarcerated. The world is finally liberated from the threats of aggression that Saddam Hussein presented. Especially with the weapons of mass destruction that is purportedly stashed away somewhere in the bowels of Iraq now just waiting to be found by the US-led peace-keeping force. Riiiight.

The concert was spectacular. The kids got on stage when they were supposed to. They even remained on stage throughout the show. No stray sheep racing back to mommy. It was brilliant! People lost their lines but it added to the comic element of the skit. We also witnessed some up and coming slap-stick comedian among our kids. As for the adult choir, well, it was truly a miracle. Of all the times we've practised "Carol of the Bells", we never sounded as good as we did last night. It was made even more special for me because it was my debut choir conducting experience. I worried about everything. Would the choir accept me as their conductor? Would they understand my signals? Would I be able to maintain the tempo? Would the sopranos hit the high G? It got to a point where I realised that worrying wasn't going to improve the situation one bit. So, I surrendered my worries and said to the One in charge, "It's all up to You now." And what a burden was lifted off my shoulders. I then did what control-freaks like me are usually unable to do -- I sat back and watched and enjoyed the concert. All those many weeks of preparation, planning and panicking came to fruition and I was able, for the first time, enjoy the fruits of my labour. I'll end this post with the lyrics to the song I sang which captures the essence of my experience perfectly.

The Journey, sung by Lea Salonga
Half the world is sleeping
Half the world's awake
Half can hear their hearts beat
Half just hear them break

I am but a trav'ler
Been most everywhere
Ask me what you want to know

Chorus:
What a journey it has been
And the end is not in sight
But the stars are out tonight
And they're bound to guide my way
When they're shining on my life
I can see a better day
I won't let the darkness in
What a journey it has been

I have been to sorrow
I have been to bliss
Where I'll be tomorrow
I can only guess
Through the darkest desert
Through the deepest snow
Forward, always forward I go

(Repeat Chorus)

Bridge:
Forward, always forward
Onward, always up
Catching every drop of hope
In my empty cup

(Repeat Chorus)

What a journey it has been

Today is a big day for my church. It is the annual Christmas concert event. This year, we began planning as early as late August. The children's skit/musical was written by our master story-teller, Nury Vittachi, or Uncle Nury as we know him. And what an honour it is because this year, the play includes bits from his latest book, "The True History of Santa Claus", which was released in stores two weeks ago. Last night, I went out to acquire a copy. It costs HKD158!! English language books are so expensive here. But I saved twenty bucks on it because the book still bore the old price tag. Apparently, the price had just been raised and the staff at the store hadn't got round to changing the tags though it was the new price registered at the till. Lucky me.

The concert. Yes. It will be a very interesting evening. Not least because most of the kids in the skit are very young and fidgety so getting them to do what they're supposed to do when they're supposed to will be a monolithic challenge for the Producer/Director. The Adult choir has a big challenge of their own - "Carol of the Bells" is proving a difficult song for a six-week old choir made up of mostly non-musical talents. On top of that, we will be singing "Hark! The Herald Angels" in three part harmony when we've only spent a half hour spread over three weeks learning it. As if that isn't enough, there are a couple more carols, one of which new, that we'll have to learn to lead the congregation on. All that to be rehearsed in the one-hour practice session this afternoon. And I'm sure I can count on the tardiness of HKers, which leaves us probably just a half hour of solid rehearsal.

So, why are we so ill prepared when the concert planning began so many months ago? While we did kick-off our first meeting at the end of August, we didn't meet again until three weeks later because I was away. And that was followed by another long break while I was on a business trip. Things started to take shape sometime in November when we engaged a music director to lead the choir as well as the regular Sunday worship. Unfortunately, she was not able to fit in. Our church's all-inclusive tradition went against her very strong anti-Catholic sentiment. That, and her reluctance to lead worship while resenting me doing it in her place, among other things, completely overwhelmed her. She quit two weeks before the concert. I can only hope that the congregation will be a forgiving audience.

I bought a heater fan for the bathroom a couple of days ago. I've been using it every morning since. It's the novelty of it. I've never owned a heater in my life. This means I can't guess what temperature it is outdoors until I'm actually outdoors. This morning, it felt like the high teens in the bathroom. I decided to wear something long sleeved but all my cottons were waiting for laundry. So I pulled out a thin wool-knit sweater and threw on a light wool cardigan so as not to over-do it. Over-do it? I've just checked the Hong Kong Observatory website. It is thirteen degrees now! Yikes! I'm still determined to have my lunch-time stroll. Let's see how I go.

This past week, I've been exploring the small alleys and side streets that Central offers to see what cheap treasures I can find. It was also a familiarisation exercise of my neighbourhood in anticipation of my sister's visit next week. Today, I went as far as The Centre, scouring every little nook and cranny while looking out for a cha chan teng (tea house) that served congee. A narrow and steep side street caught my attention. It was cramped with tables and chairs perched precariously on the uneven path packed with people having their lunch break. At the top of the steps, things started to look familiar. The steps led to the same stretch of dai bai dong (street food stalls) just at the end of Stanley Street. I hesitated outside a cha chan teng until a man waved me in. I approached him and asked if he had congee. Yes, he did. He walked me to the shop next door and showed me a menu. It was written in Chinese. I turned around to speak to him but he had left me with two new service staff who looked at me curiously. "Chook", I attempted. One of the staff nodded and began to list very quickly, the ingredients for me to choose from. "Pei tan and pork?" In my panic, I reverted to the comfort of English. This time, it was his turn to look bewildered. Then another staff, a young, pleasant looking chap, raced over to where we were and asked, "You speak English?" I did not bother to hide my relief. We continued with my order and then on my request, he led me to a table on the street, all the while astonishing me with his near-perfect English. How is it possible that most local service staff working for major corporations struggle with English while this young man, working in a street-side coffee shop, who has no real need to speak English in his line of work, spoke fluent English? I held back the urge to ask him how an apparently well-educated man like him worked in a place like that. It would have been terribly rude if the shop was a family business he was helping out at while on vacation or in between jobs. Quite extraordinary.

Start your morning here and turn up that volume.

My young french fancy turned twenty-nine today. He's no longer in HK but I still remember. Last year, I gave him Antoine de Saint-Exupery's "Le Petit Prince". I knew he'd read it before (who hasn't!) but you can never read it too many times. This year, well, just an email wish.

Tonight, I played my first Christmas CD of the season. "Andy Williams Christmas Album". Shouldn't it be "Andy Williams' Christmas Album" with the apostrophe? A nice little bit of nostalgia there. I remember Christmas growing up was filled with Jim Reeves and Andy Williams. I don't really feel it's Christmas until I've heard Jim or Andy belting out, "O, Holy Night".

Last week, I started attending an all-women's bible study group that meets every Wednesday throughout Advent. I joined it half-way through, on their third out of five sessions. We meet during lunch so many of us are usually slurping their soup or congee or munching away on a sarnie through half the meeting. It looks more like a potluck party than a religious group meeting. Today was no different. And, as is commonly seen at dinner tables in Hong Kong, a woman began to clean her teeth right in the middle of a bible passage. I watched her as she took a length of thread (which I realised later was dental floss) and proceeded to floss her teeth at the meeting table. Mind you, she did it discreetly, hand cupped over gaping mouth, but it was still gross. Who ever flosses anywhere else but the bathroom? And this was a well-educated, well-spoken paediatrician. I squirmed. Nobody else flinched.

I bought a blanket for my couch during last Saturday's shopping spree. I have the bright red woollen weave wrapped around my shoulders. It is molting. I am now covered in little red bits of fluff. I guess this was the stuff I was gagging on last night during my music practice session with our church's accompanist. One of these nights, I'm sure I'll cough out a bright red furball.

Finishing a chat with my mom and then I think I'll try for an early night tonight.

Isn't it common etiquette for you to identify yourself when making a business phone call? "Hello, I am Jane Smith calling from abc associates....". When the Receptionist patched a call in this morning, remarking that the caller was rather strange insisting on having the name of the sales person, would I like to take the call, this is what happened:

Me: Good morning. Can I help you?
Caller: Hello. What's your name?
Me: I'm sorry. Where are you calling from and whom would you like to speak to?
Caller: Are you Ms Cheung or Ms Chan or Ms Chen?
Me: No.
Caller: Are you the secretary?
Me: No. Who is calling and where are you calling from please?
Caller: My name is Barbara Owen.......................hello?
Me: Yes...?
*click*

A few minutes later, the Receptionist puts another call through. "This lady is from PCCW and would like to speak to Accounts. Can I pass the call to you?"
Me: Hello?
Caller: blah blah blah blah blah....(in cantonese)
Me: errr....hello, can I help you?
Caller: blah blah blah blah blah....(in cantonese)
uncomprehending silence...................................
*hangs up*

Enough of stupid calls. I decide its time for a morning break. I pop out to Starbucks to pick up a box of finger sandwiches for lunch later and a blueberry scone for now.
Staff in santa hat: Would you like to warm it?
Me: Yes. Not the sandwich. Just the scone.
Staff in santa hat: That will be $25. Thank you.
Me: $25? Did you hear me right? A finger sandwich and a blueberry scone.
Staff in santa hat: That will be $37.
Me: Don't toast the sandwich please. Just warm the scone.
He turned around and busied with the task. When he took longer than I thought necessary to pop a scone in the oven, I interrupted.
Me: Excuse me. You understood that I don't want the sandwich toasted, right?
Staff in santa hat: Yes. Just warmed.
Me: NO. Just warm the scone! Leave the sandwich alone.
Other staff in santa hat looks apologetically at me and whispers, "I'm sorry", while bumbling santa removes the sandwiches from the oven and replaces them with the scone.

In the past week, I've been spending a good amount of time researching the internet as well as checking with local residents with familiies for fun family activities to do when visiting Hong Kong. Today, almost in tears, I concluded that Hong Kong is not a vacation destination for families with children. My brother-in-law's sister who has a kid the same age as my niece had no suggestion to make! Some other searches turned up the likes of "Teddy Bear Kingdom" which is great for kids under eight, and Jumpin Gym, also for younger kids. Ocean Park came up but I took the kids there last year. Apart for the kiddy land rides, all the other rides were too frightening for the kids aged eight and ten at the time. I don't think at nine and eleven, they would suddenly be ready for the Headland rides. And then I thought of go-karting in Macau. But the minimum age for that is eighteen! What about pee-wee golf? Sorry, don't have that. Then the Great Moscow Circus presented itself. Surely the kids would love going to the circus while in HK even though it was going to make its tour in Singapore as well. With credit card in hand, I approached the box office at the Fringe only to learn that there was no special privileges for kids. Infant-in-arms paid the same full fee per head as any seat occupying adult patron. It was ludicrous! I left empty-handed. Where would I find a baby-sitter for the little one? Where was the sense in paying a few hundred bucks for a baby who can't appreciate the circus anyway? But as there isn't any other entertainment for the older kids as exciting as the circus, I may just have to fork out the fee for the little one so the bigger ones can have their fun. Sucks!

Everyone seems to have some sort of poll on their page these days. I discovered this one from HL's blog and thought I'd jump into the polling fray as well.

I'm a bit slow with catching up on the weekend. I was too exhausted Sunday to blog. My cleaning service didn't come through. ARGH! I went shopping on Saturday and now I'm stuck with a messy apartment for goodness-knows-how-long. This weekend is choc-a-bloc with Christmas concert and related preparations. The cleaning company confirmed her availability late Friday evening. We were supposed to chat sometime today and she was to start tomorrow. I found out at the end of today that she has taken another job! Totally irresponsible! I suppose better irresponsible now then when I've trusted her with my keys, huh?

After Salsa Saturday night, a salsero invited me to drinks at LKF. It was one in the morning. I wasn't having a good night at Salsa. Completely off-form. So I took him up on the offer since it's on my way home anyway. We stopped at the german bar and parked ourselves in one of the booths for the next three and a half hours, past closing time. It's been such a long time since I've had a long and pleasant getting-to-know-you date. Although, I'm not sure whether it qualifies as a date if the guy casually nudges you on his way out and asks if you wanted to get a drink at LKF. Anyway, it was after four by the time I got to bed so it was a miracle that I managed to get to church just fifteen minutes late for worship preparation. And an even greater miracle that I was buzzing all the time I was out until I got home at four in the afternoon.

It's getting late now and I should be getting ready for bed. I've been having quite a different sleep experience since moving my bed. For starters, I no longer sleep on just one half of the bed. I often wake up on the other half of the bed from where I started. I can't say my sleep has been more restful as it has been dream-riddled. And sometimes, while my eyes are closed waiting for sleep to come, I feel a little disorientated. And finally, I find myself waking up in the middle of the night feeling quite refreshed just to fall back to sleep without much trouble. Strange. Too late to do anything about it now. Not that I think these new developments necessarily bad since I wake up in no worse shape than I used to. Oh well, off to bed then.

The weather can't make up its mind. In the past week, it looked like winter had arrived at last. Temperatures dropped below twenty, sometimes as low as ten in the New Territories. Many who hadn't already dredged up their winter stuff and put away their summer clothes were doing so. Then today, temperatures soar into the mid-teens again, causing complete wardrobe chaos. Most HKers just put up with the sweltering heat in their wool, leather and fleece. While most of the foreigners were back in summer lights. As for me, I don't have the luxury of a winter wardrobe to last the whole season so I wear the same stuff all year round, throwing on a jacket as the temperature drops. I guess that makes me more adaptable to this fickle weather.

Today was shopping day. I've engaged a helper to clean my place come Tuesday (yay!) so I have all day today to apply the finishing touches to my apartment since the move in August. Pictures have been sent to the framers and soon they will dress the bare walls. More cushions join the eight already in the lounge. In anticipation of the temperatures falling agian, the newcomers are dressed in furry purple slips, while a couple of blankets have been introduced to warm the lounge. Now, all I need is for winter to return.

Thanks to Phil, we now have our very own Asia Weblog Awards. Phil has spared no effort in this "overnight" single-handed endeavour. There are various award categories for an avid blog-reader to nominate or vote their favourite blogs into. And, it spans all Asia as far flung as India. Kewl! Go ahead and vote. Spread the word! Let's make a statement for Asian blogs. Oh, you can also nominate non-Asian blogs in the "Best Foreign (non-Asian) blog" category, too.


lasik
Over lunch with a supplier yesterday, we discussed the wonders that Thailand has to offer at very inexpensive prices. He'd lived in Thailand for two years and even now visits the "Land of Smiles" at least four times a year. I talked about wanting to get laser eye surgery done there as they are apparently known to have excellent medical and health services. I could combine it with a vacation like many people do. A thought instigated by Andrew of Rear Window. Talking about it somehow made the prospect of laser eye surgery more real to me. This morning, I found myself trapped in a dream unable to open my eyes. I had gone into surgery on my own and was stuck in the eye clinic post surgery with no means of getting home in my semi-blind state. I couldn't open my eyes which were uncomfortably dry and gritty. By the time I was able to break the spell, it was nine in the morning! I was late for work.

Mary T is getting married. I smiled when I read. I don't pretend to know her though I enjoyed reading. Yes, even obsessively. And I am happy for her. Truly, madly. It gives me hope. Even as I am reminded that "over thirty and single" is not an abomination. Congratulations, Mary T!

We went to the gee gees for our year-end company get-together tonight. Of the four races that I placed any bets on, I lost three and made a pittance on one. This is a sore reminder why I don't gamble. I have no luck! But it was a good evening. Or, in our newly acquired language, a "cyber gulch" night. Some of us made a tidy windfall. I guess it helped that one was rather well-versed with the stakes and the performance pattern of horse and rider. The other relied on the tips section of the Chinese newspaper even though he didn't understand a word of it. I just picked numbers I liked as long as the odds weren't weighed too heavily against the poor animal. What I found most distressing was how hard the riders appeared to whip their rides to get them to go faster. Ouch! Give the beast a break!

P stopped over at my place again last night. It was his last night in Hong Kong. I tried to get him to take me to Spoon for dinner but my guiles don't work on him anymore. He had a working dinner. Come to think of it, my guiles never worked with him before either. But he left dinner early to meet me. By which time, I had made myself dinner and was mid-way through my meal. Jamie Oliver was on when he arrived. I love Jamie Oliver and his unconventional recipes and instruction so I remained glued to the tele while P was left to make himself comfortable. No problem for him as he still feels like he is a part of my life. After JO, I wasn't in the mood to go out as a friend from church was supposed to swing by so we could learn a song for the upcoming Christmas concert. Stumped with nothing to do, I offered to teach him a bit of Salsa. P never liked learning something new especially if I was already good at it. This time, he acquiesced. He wasn't brilliant but he is one of the few men born with rhythm so had no trouble picking up the basics immediately. I think he rather enjoyed it. But he soon got bored and began to re-arrange my life like he used to do when we were seeing each other. This time, it was my bedroom feng shui. The position of my bed created bad feng shui which was detrimental to my overall well-being. He wasn't specific about what areas of my life would suffer from the bad bed feng shui but I can guess. "You should turn your bed this way" he stated, gesturing a 180 degree turn. "It's too difficult. Besides, I'm happy the way it is." That was a lie. I had toyed with the idea of turning the bed around but the reality of turning a flimsy Queen sized bed 180 degrees around in a cramped space on my own proved too daunting. "I'm here. I can help you" he persisted. I would have willingly asked for his aid if the discussion had been initiated by me but the stubborn streak in me was wont to bend to his will. "It's late. You're out of your mind. We're going to make such a noise to wake the neighbours." He relented and muttered that it was just a suggestion. I softened and now I sleep in the opposite direction. Hopeful of good tidings.

My brother is on his way home now. It's been a weekend of non-stop conversation. As our plans for Lamma fell through yesterday, we spent the afternoon after church engrossed in various discussion topics, moving quickly from one to the next then re-visiting the first for a more thorough debate as we drifted through Hong Kong Park. It was like we were trying to make up for all the years lost to insipid dialogue and familial bickering. Even as we made the obligatory trips to Temple Street for some night market bric-a-brac shopping, and the Victoria Peak for the token panoramic view of the city, we found ourselves twisting our heads this way and that to avoid on-coming street shoppers or tourists while we giggled at a remembered past or shared an anecdote. We didn't get to too much but catching up kept us very busy.

And since we didn't get to the seafood at Lamma, we decided to be a bit adventurous and sample Temple Street cuisine despite our lack of communication skills. We stopped at a corner restaurant boasting a wide variety of seafood dishes and after a few mute gesticulations at this or that strange-looking sea creature, my brother placed his first local food order in Hong Kong. That was about all to our food adventure. My brother, like the rest of my siblings, share my lack of a discerning palatte. We eat mostly as a necessary function for survival and sustenance. So the other meals were dial-a-pizza, sandwich and the marketplace at The Peak.

Salsa on Saturday night didn't go too well though. Given time, I'm sure I might have persuaded him to take to the dance floor, and being a natural himself, he would have picked up the dance and danced up a storm in no time. But we had overlooked an important detail - that a place offering a dance floor, music and drinks was likely to attract smokers as well. My brother's tolerance for second-hand cigarette smoke is far worse than mine so he watched the goings-on from outside the club where the air was marginally less polluted. He looked like an outcast. It was ridiculous so after forty-five minutes of loitering, we decided it best to pack him into a taxi and send him on his way home.

The highlight of his trip for me was when he joined the music team at worship and improvised harmonies and refrains to music which, until that morning, was completely unfamiliar to him. He was clearly enjoying the worship experience and that was priceless to me as I had feared he might not approve of the fact that it wasn't a catholic church.

Even thought iIt was a very brief stay, we said more to each other in the twenty-seven waking hours we spent together than we've done in the last ten years. That is worth more than all the tourist activities we didn't get to do.