Hanoi

Earlier this month, AC and I spent a few exciting days in Hanoi Vietnam. Our original plan was to meet a friend who would be there for work, but his trip was cancelled at the last minute. This left AC and I to fend for ourselves -- which ended up being scary and fun all rolled into one!

We arrived late enough on the first day to simply grab some dinner -- some traditional Vietnamese food. Our favorite dish was fried spring rolls served on what can best be described as Spongebob Squarepant's little home under the sea. Cute and delicious! We managed to also grab a quick drink at the Sofitel bar -- total swank. I was falling asleep at the table, but I think that was just a sign of the relaxing environment.

The next morning we got up early and headed into Hanoi's Old Quarter which is where we spent the majority of our time. This is the hustling, bustling section of Hanoi with endless shops, restaurants, and a never-ending stream of people on scooters. One of the first things you learn is there is no adherence to traffic signals. If you're lucky enough to have a traffic light to aid your passage across a given street, the drivers completely ignore it. So you simply take a deep breath, squint your eyes and go! The controlled chaos seems to somehow temporarily part around your fragile body and you make it to the other side unscathed. Aside from some near-misses, it's funny how quickly you become accustomed to throwing yourself into oncoming traffic!

Our first stop was the Ngoc Son Temple on Hoan Kiem Lake. Our first of many currency-conversion errors had us pay 10x the entry fee (it's funny how they don't correct you when you get it wrong). The most memorable thing is the giant monster turtles that live in the lake. They are huge, and prehistoric looking -- and real! They display a preserved sample in the temple as proof, which was about 4.5 feet long.

After the temple, we took a walking tour around the Old Quarter. It's a lot of quirky shopping for pretty much anything you'd ever want, and it's conveniently grouped by type (textiles, shoes, paper goods, candy, fake hair extensions, etc). We did a self-guided walking tour through this area, and were mobbed by helpful locals every time we stopped to reference our book for directions. This really got old in time, and AC (the consummate professional) gradually eroded from lenghty and polite responses to a simple "No!" I just ignored them for the most part, convinced the conversation was simply designed to distract me as they searched my pockets for my wallet. To end the day, we caught a showing of the Water Puppets show, which is like marionettes, only it's all done under water.

Our final day in Hanoi was spent checking out many of the historical interests, including the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum and museum (his body was our for servicing unfortunately, so we didn't get a gander at Unlce Ho's body), the War Museum and the old prison where American POWs were held. All were very interesting and chock' full of propaganda for sure. It was interesting to see the other side's perspective on the Vietnam war. All propaganda aside, you get a better appreciation of how the US was simply the last group in a very long line of countries (China, France, Japan -- most on multiple occasions) that inserted themselves into Vietnam for a variety of reasons.

While there is a very anti-US sentiment in these establishments, all is washed away as soon as you step out the front door and are greeted by the hordes of locals (some who actually waited for you the whole time you were in there) who simply love Americans. And oddly, nothing makes them happier than paying in US dollars. And at those prices, we were happy to oblige.

Here are the pictures!

soon ...

I've been dying to write about Hanoi, but I caught some kind of mystery bug the last day there. It's been a joyous ride of cold and flu symptoms -- today I'm 80% back and want to update you all on our trip soon!

All Done!

Well, things are finally wrapped up at work so although I'm still an employee I'm not coming into the office anymore -- getting paid for no work, my dream job after all!

At this point we're still trying to figure out the rather complicated logistics around getting back to the US but for now we're just trying to enjoy HK. We're also headed to Vietnam on Saturday which should be fun! It will make for an interesting blog post if nothing else.

Until then, thanks for all your well-wishes and job leads!

RIP Halloween in the Castro

Well, the city of San Francisco finally did it -- they killed Halloween.

Some of my favorite SF memories are from that crazy Halloween party. Getting in a fight with my little brother who had to storm home through the crazy crowd. Dressing up as my friend Bradford at his own Halloween party. Watching AC get mauled by total strangers and interviewed by the evening news in his Chewbacca costume.

What a bummer ...

Shenzhen

The 19th of October was a holiday here in Hong Kong, and a few of my coworkers were gracious enough to spend the day with AC and I as we ventured into Mainland China. Although it's physically quite close to Hong Kong (less than one hour by train), you can immediately recognize a difference -- namely all the English signage is gone. We were very lucky that we had Chinese speakers with us, although even they struggled with the Mandarin dialect versus the Cantonese they are more accustomed to.

Our first stop was a traditional dim sum lunch. I will say that dim sum is finally growing on me. We were slightly more adventurous this time and I actually tried squab (domestic pigeon). Tastes like chicken! *groan* After a huge lunch and a failed attempt to get a lane at a local bowling alley, we headed over to a spa for a massage. Let's just say this is where things started to get interesting.

First, we were separated from our guides (as they were both ladies, they used the ladies dressing room). As AC and I were quickly ushered into the men's room, we were also separated to different lockers that corresponded with magnetic wrist band keys we were pre-assigned. My little helper boy tried desperately to communicate with me but could only manage, "USA? NBA?" while making basketball dribbling motions in the air. I'm sure I did look like a basketball player as I stood at least two feet taller than anyone there. I looked around for some visual queues that would help me understand what the heck I was supposed to do. I only saw ... well ... a bunch of naked Chinese people running around. So ... I joined them.

I eventually was reunited with AC -- now only donning a towel and his glasses -- and we were escorted into the showers. Apparently bathing was mandatory, as a man dressed in all back paced up and down the line of open stalls ensuring all the nude bodies reached an acceptable level of cleanliness. What a fun job that must be! The last stop was a changing area where we dried off and got into loose-fitting shorts and a smock.

Still reeling from my bout of public nudity anxiety, I surveyed the room. The main room seemed familiar, yet like nothing we'd ever seen before. Imagine going to a casino that has a large Keno room -- lots of comfortable chairs all facing a large screen in front. Or maybe a big IMAX movie theater? Now picture everyone sitting there getting foot massages. I'm re-reading my description and it just doesn't do it justice as to how weird this place felt. In addition to this sea of foot massages, you could also order food, smoke cigarettes, run on a tread mill and just generally laze around -- with hardly any clothes on.

When reunited with the ladies, they decided that we should all get a private room for our full-body massages. Our leader decided that Cantonese style would be best (and was also the most affordable at $12 US dollars for two hours). While I was excited at getting a cheap deal, let's just say sometimes you get what you pay for.

Initially I started to panic that I was going to have to get naked, yet again, only this time in front of my coworkers. It quickly became clear that they intended to massage us through our clothes. While this alleviated my fear of more public nudity, I began to realize these clothes had a scratchy feel to them. In no time, it felt like we had sunburns as they rubbed the rough cloth all over our skin. I guess Cantonese style massage is a deep-tissue massage, because suddenly my masseur was digging her elbow into my shoulders, wrapping my arm behind my back all "cuff 'em and stuff 'em" style, and generally causing me large amounts of physical pain. Now I'm no massage expert, but the ones I'd have previously all felt good. This was not the case. After two hours of torture, we limped back to the cafeteria and ate (again) to gain our strength for some shopping.

AC quickly found himself in his element, shopping for bargain-basement priced CDs. I was mostly bored, but got enjoyment from hearing such exclamations from AC as "Oh my gosh, George Michael for only a dollar!" and "How do they have Harry Potter on DVD already?" from the various stacks of what must have been bootleg media.

Our final stop was a Mongolian BBQ restaurant for dinner. I wasn't even the slightest bit hungry, given we'd already eaten several times that afternoon, but they quickly ordered eight family-style dishes (because it's good luck to order eight!). The food was actually really really good. The most memorable dish was the leg of lamb. It was served 'caveman style' meaning leg of lamb was actually a leg. As the beer buzz took effect, we pretended to bash each other over the head like our ancient ancestors.

In the end, we spent less than $40 US per person for the entire day. Next time however, I think we'll skip the spa.

Here are the pictures!

Paris Days 4 & 5

With the amount of free time I have on my hands right now, you'd think that I would have written about our final days in Paris with excruciating detail, right? Ah, procrastination -- how I love thee!

Our fourth day in Paris actually wasn't -- in Paris that is. We decided to take a guided tour up to Giverny and check out Claude Monet's house. It was amazing to see the Japanese gardens and iconic bridge that served as the inspiration for his famous waterlily series of paintings. If you're a nature lover, his home would be heaven with countless rows of different types of flowers and plants. The inside of his house was painted in crazy pastels -- we only got one picture snapped before we got in trouble, but his love for pastels didn't stop at the canvas.

After having lunch in what can only be described as the most picture-perfect little restaurant that epitomized the French countryside (above), we headed south to the Palace of Versailles. I had been there before, but it was neat to see AC trip out over the lavish furnishings. They explained that most of the good stuff got melted down to fund the French Revolutionary War, so you have to imagine things with more hardware. They had also just finished a major renovation, so everything was in pristine condition. You could almost picture Louis the XIV and Marie Antoinette at their lavish parties, before they were kindly parted from their heads of course.

Our final day in Paris was bittersweet on so many levels. Knowing that it was our last day in France, and also finding out I was losing my job made for a somewhat somber mood. AC continued his surprisingly laid-back approach to our trip and we decided to leisurely wander around the streets of the Montmartre district, making pit stops and The Moulin Rouge, the workplace of Amélie, the Basilica of the Sacré Cœur and other places of note (such as where Picasso lived for a short time).

A non-scientific survey conducted by myself (n=2), revealed that this was the best vacation we ever had. Europe was such an interesting change after being in Asia for such a long time. We can't wait to go back. As always, here are the pictures!

Paris Day 3

Ah how quickly my zen state from Paris was lost (getting fired on your last day of vacation will do that to you). While my mind has been mostly consumed with poisonous thoughts toward my employer, perhaps writing about our third day of vacation will help bring me back to my happy place.

*deep breath -- and we're back*

Day three was probably the most action-packed as we tried to hit most of the major touristy places all in one day.

Our feet were slightly sore from the full-day at the Louvre the previous day, so we had a leisurely breakfast then headed over to the Notre Dame Cathedral. It is such an amazing work of architecture, and the near-pitch black conditions inside are amazingly lit from the huge stained glass windows that line every wall. That and the digital displays of all the cash registers hocking everything but Disney Hunchback of Notre Dame plush toys. It was the oddest combination of quiet religious reverence and shameless tourist consumerism. We of course picked up a souvenir 'message to God' candle for Adam's grandmother -- only 5 Euros!

Next stop - Eiffel Tower! After a very brief discussion about the alternatives of taking the stairs (cheaper) or the elevator (sane), we got in the very long line for the elevators. Security was quite tight. As our backpack was being searched, AC though it would be a prudent time to tell me all about the role of the Eiffel Tower in Superman II. Let's just say after using the words "terrorists," "bomb," and "secret plot to blow up the tower", we started getting some very suspicious looks from our linemates. I quickly asked him a random question about Madonna (a sure-fire way to change the topic) to avoid our imminent arrest.

As you'd expect, the view was beautiful (unfortunately the top level was closed, so we had to settle for the middle). It was also cold. Looking back at the pictures, we oddly never posed together. Not just at the Eiffel Tower, but in Paris at all! We'll have to remember that for next time.

After lunch, AC suggested we check out The d'Orsay Museum. I was actually quite surprised he suggested this given that I am more of the art-freak and thought I'd already gotten more than my fair share after spending all day at The Louvre. It's an amazing museum that was converted from a railway station (think art gallery in Grand Central Station). The layout and lighting were simply amazing and it was nice to see some art I was more familiar with. Not to be a total nerd, but you get the most indescribable feeling when you're right next to a famous painting you've only seen in books ... you could touch it if you wanted to (get arrested). I wondered out out -- what would prevent someone from coming in here and vandalizing one of the paintings? Interestingly, right after we left -- someone did just that by punching a hole in a painting I'd gazed at just days before. Anyway, to make up for making AC do so much grown-up stuff, I posed for a picture that looks a rhino is about to crap on me. See how we give-and-take?

After this, the Arc de Triomphe! It's a little tricky to figure out how to get to it, as it's encircled by a multiple lane circular road. After AC's reference to our trusty guidebook, we found the subway entrance and made it over. The most memorable thing about this monument was the spiral staircase the led up to the top. For me, it wasn't the staircase itself but the pile of nearly-dead bodies panting desperately for breath at the top. AC and I are no fitness freaks, but nearly everyone who braved the staircase seemed to be on the verge of a myocardial infarction. We felt pretty good about ourselves! We also had a little run-in with the law here, but if AC ever gets back to blogging, I'll let him write about it.

To end our day, we took a leisurely walk back down the Champs-Élysées back to our hotel. We made a quick pit-stop to ride a huge Ferris Wheel and then watched leisurely as a fist fight almost broke out somehow. Don't ask me -- we were confused too.

Stay tuned for Paris Day 4 -- Claude Monet's house and the palace of Versailles. Oh, and here are the pictures.

Paris Day 2

AC was a gracious travel buddy on day two and allowed me to hang out at The Louvre ... all day! Rumor has it that the Campbell Clan's approach to this museum is to rush in right when it opens, see the Mona Lisa, then the Venus de Milo then leave -- twenty minutes max!

I, however, have started to get really interested in art as I grow older. Although I'd already been to The Louvre in my youth, I had a totally new perspective in adulthood. Realistically, by the end I though I might puke if I saw another marble statue or painting of Jesus, but I'm glad I got to spend so much time there.

As promised, here are the pictures from day two!

Distracted

While I had planned a glorious day-by-day expose of our Paris trip, I find myself extremely distracted. Explanation below ...

Fast-forward to the final day of our Paris vacation. I got an email from my boss saying that she needed to talk with me urgently and asked if she could call me over the weekend. This is not her usual MO -- she really isn't one to bug me over a weekend, much less while I'm on vacation.

So to make a long story short, she was calling me to let me know that my job in Hong Kong was eliminated. I must admit this didn't come as a huge surprise to me. The hiring forecast for next year was reduced to 1/3 of the original plan. Combined with the fact that it's quite expensive to keep me living in Hong Kong, this outcome became inevitable.

(For this next part, picture two mini-AJs sitting on each of my shoulders. One with a halo, one with horns and a pitchfork.)

So herein lies my psychosis -- I'm 50% okay and 50% disgruntled employee doing web research on arson (just kidding!).

Angel AJ -- this whole experience was truly a blessing. Considering a mere 10 years ago I was a mere Wal-Mart cronie, this was an opportunity that very few would ever get. It was an amazing mixture of excitement, culture shock, loneliness, joy, heartbreak ... so much personal growth and learning packed into 12 short months. While I'm sad it ended early, I am a much better person for having done this.

Devil AJ - F*CK YOU you piece of sh*t company! How could you not see this coming? Why in God's name would you wait to fire my ass until RIGHT AFTER I rented out my condo , sold my car, had my partner quit his job and move to China, gave my poor dog so many pre-move shots he almost died from the allergic reaction *pant pant pant*. I can't tell if I'm more mad about being d*cked over by corporate America, or simply lashing out for losing a job that I love so dearly ...

They are trying to make the best of the situation by trying to find me a new job. I have a firm role lined up in the US ... basically my old job back. Not too excited about that. Another option might be moving to Singapore. Interesting ... only how do I say this delicately ... they throw "my kind of people" in prison for expressing our love to each other. *ahem*

I'm not a praying person, but we'd sure appreciate some kind thoughts from you all while we figure out where life is taking us next. Thanks to those who have sent well-wishes thus far. Let's hope this all results in something even more exciting!

Paris Day One

As I mentioned, day one in Paris was really just about getting our bearings and trying to shake off the jet lag. Here are some random pictures from our first day.

Paris Relived - Day One

All of last week, AC and I had the pleasure of spending time in Paris. I had hoped to jot down some updates while I was gone, but it was a semi-working vacation so between work and fun, there was no time to write. I'll try and recreate our activities (and upload pictures soon too!).

I worked late on Monday night and got home about 8:30 pm. AC had thankfully done all the packing, and I did my usual grousing about how he packed too many bags. To illustrate my point, we found ourselves sweaty and exhausted after lugging them through the subway network to the Airport Express station. I think we had gotten in at least four arguments before we made it to the airport. We can never be on The Amazing Race, that is for certain.

After a medium length layover in the Heathrow airport, we found ourselves in gay Paris! It was too early to check into our hotel, so we checked our bags at the hotel and went exploring. It was quite chilly, much to AC's delight (he's been hating the hot muggy weather in Hong Kong). We arrived during the lunch hour and all the locals were out-and-about ... and let me tell you they are one good-looking group of people. Well-dressed, well-groomed, speaking their sexy French accents. By contrast, AC and I were jet lagged, unshaven, with blood-shot eyes and bad breath. We clearly didn't fit it.

We still tried our best to avoid looking like tourists. After getting a little lost we were forced to reference the Lonely Planet guidebook for a map. As I tried to block AC from street view, I noticed that his sweatshirt gave us away "AMERICAN Eagle" in huge white letters ... there was no hiding it. We were tourists.

On our first evening we didn't do much in the way of organized activities. We quickly discovered we were walking distance from The Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, and could easily see the Eiffel Tower. After a quick dinner (Japanese, oddly) we totally crashed early and slept like logs.

Missing My 'Hood

When I'm feeling a little homesick, there are a wide variety of web-based resources that make me feel like I'm keeping in touch with my old stomping grounds. I found that the new street view on Google Maps, was becoming a very unhealthy obsession, so SFGate.com has been a more healthy outlet.

What I'm most excited about is the potential new design for the Trans Bay Terminal. The city is still going through a bidding process to understand the details of the proposed designs, but the one that I was most in love with was selected! It reminds me so much of the International Finance Center here in Hong Kong. The though of having a 5.4 acre garden right downtown is a really neat concept.

Let's hope it actually gets built so my property value can go up!

Not Getting Hopes Up

Friday was apartment shopping. It was a blast! It was truly some red carpet treatment.

They picked us up at 9:00 am with our personal Benz driver who took us to the property office. After a short orientation (most of which I already knew, but was beneficial for AC) we went off to look at properties.

Real estate shopping in Hong Kong is an experience like none other. For anyone who has complained about the San Francisco real estate market, come live in HK for a while and you'll long for the affordable prices. Sticker shock is issue numero uno. The cheapest place we looked at was just a shade over 1,000 square feet and it was a steal at $55,000 HKD per month (~$7,000 US). I guess it helps when the company is paying for it. I don't know how people who live here regularly actually pull it off.

The second weird thing is they don't do anything to the apartment until they have a tenant. This means the old tenant (or sometimes owner) moves out and they start showing it. For the most part, they were all a complete disaster -- messy, smelly, run down, wore out. You really have to picture what they are going to look like cleaned up. Some of them, we couldn't help but laugh our heads off they were so bad.

Because we were greedy awful Americans, our agent assumed we would want to see huge places. Most of the apartments we looked at were 2,000+ square feet. At one point, AC finally said, "I'm sorry -- this is just too big. What would we make out of this room, a dance floor?"

Lastly, there is the issue of the maid's room. We call it the slave's quarters. It usually consists of a microscopic room, usually the size of the closet. They commonly had a separate servant's entrance and the room was always off of the kitchen. The also have a separate bath with a hand-held shower that is directly over the toilet Amtrak style. Some of the beds were so short, there is no way a human being over eight years of age could stretch out properly. They say this is a concept that you warm up to, but I just don't think I'll ever feel right about it.

In the end, we made an offer on an apartment that took me about 32.2 seconds to fall madly in love with. First, it's right in the middle of the SoHo area, which is rich with countless bars, restaurants, shopping, and what I suspect is the world's longest escalator. Secondly, it was luxury! They had a wine and cigar bar right in the building. We wanted to look at the gym and pool, but they said it was too exclusive and they wouldn't let us in (damn them!).

Lastly, the apartment. It was actually the smallest and cheapest of everything we'd seen. The view (from the 37th floor) was nothing short of breath-taking -- especially when you looked down to the street level. When I walked into the second bath, however, I was sold. There was a TV screen in the shower. A TV SCREEN IN THE SHOWER!! I'm sorry, but that has to be the coolest thing I've ever seen in my life. There is also a TV in the master bath (opposite the toilet -- heh heh) and in the kitchen as well. Everything was brand new and pristine. Then we noticed the security cameras throughout the apartment. I was told you can log onto the Internet and check what is going on when you are not home (meaning: check to make sure your slave is working hard). There is even one in the guest bedroom. To anyone coming to visit: you have been warned!

Though small, it was completely perfect for us. Tater even has a room to his own (the slave room of course). Our only conditions were that they let us have the dog, and they knock down a wall and turn it from a 3 to a 2 bedroom.

So even in writing this, I am getting my hopes up. There is already an offer on the unit, but our agent is going to try and make a better offer to one-up them!

Quitter

I quit.

Not my job ... but I finally quit Japanese lessons. I had no idea how hard it would be, and I was spending four hours a week in lessons which I knew would all be time wasted in the long run.

I could tell my heart just wasn't really in it when I never seemed to want to study (and you all know how much I love to study -- seriously, I do!). In some ways, I think I more-or-less fired my teacher than quit. He was such a nice guy, but I spent so much time staring directly into his mouth trying to get the correct pronunciation of the words that I'm pretty sure I know his brand of cigarettes. He was a little flaky too, and we never seemed to have a solid direction to the lessons.

So now I have an extra four hours per week. I would actually love to pick up German again. Don't think the company would be willing to pay for that, however.

Bathroom Antics

As you might imagine, some of my funniest moments happen in the bathroom. I suspect I'm the only person who brushes their teeth after lunch (even worse opting for the all-organic apricot flavored toothpaste). Needless to say, the looks I get indicate how weird I must appear to them.

Very often, as I absent-mindedly lean against the counter while brushing away my sub sandwich, my pants encouter a completely soaked bathroom counter. The counters aren't usually simply wet -- they are often so wet there are no dry patches, making it difficult to tell they are wet in the first place. As I lean against the counter (resulting in a wet spot just about crotch height), I wonder who the hell does this?! Today I figured it out.

My office is on the same floor as the embassy for the United Arab Emirates. I originally thought they were simply the culprits who smoked cigarettes in the bathroom (they were), but today I got to witness their hand washing habits.

As I brushed my teeth, one of the guys from the embassy came in to wash his hands. He slowly rolled his sleeves all the way up past his elbows and began to douse his arms with cold water (I knew it was cold because it was splashing all over me as well). He then took a huge wad of paper towels, soaked them in the water and washed his entire face, head, heck and hair.

Thinking he was done, I surveyed me general wetness on the right side of my body (I wore a white shirt no less). But he wasn't done. He proceeded to take his shoes and socks off and wash his feet as well! I left the bathroom at this point, fearing that seeing any other body parts get washed in the same sink I brush my teeth may be detrimental to tooth care.

Brunch Error

Today we went to La Fourchette for brunch. The menu was kind of confusing -- and we accidentally ordered the price-fix brunch. The menu had a title: "Sunday Frog Menu." I thought that was odd considering it was a French restaurant. It was way more food then we ever would want. And it came with grilled frog legs. And Adam ate them.

No Fly Zone

I just want to start be acknowledging I'm being grossly immature in this post.

I love my job here in Hong Kong. In many ways, however, it's far from ideal. I used to lead a huge team. Here, I'm a one-man-band. I struggle to connect with candidates both on a basic linguistic and cultural level. It's tough to convince someone to come work for us when you have trouble understanding each other.

But what I love love love is the travel. And now I have to stop. In a staff meeting this week, I was only paying half attention as usual:

Director: blah blah blah blah budget blah blah blah 11 million dollar reduction blah blah blah no travel blah blah
Me: *ears pricking up* -- No travel?!
Director: Well, it's not quite no traveling, but blah blah blah ...

I began mentally scrolling through all the travel I had planned in the coming months. Japan, Malaysia, Korea, Singapore, Belgium, Switzerland ... I had a full schedule planned! I broke down sobbing right in the middle of the staff meeting. Just kidding ...

I went back to my desk and tried to decide what travel to cut. It was like deciding which of my children to let drown. Japan was the first to go - I did all of my meetings over the phone. Then Malaysia and Switzerland. Belgium (the trip I was dreading for some reasons I'll share later) stays unfortunately. Maybe the U.S. team will buy my ticket to Singapore? Better not get my hopes up.

"You can fly coach to Tokyo," suggests my manager. I already fly coach as it is, so that gave me no peace. So until then, I guess I'm just forced to simply enjoy Hong Kong. Man, I don't really have any tough problems do I?

Business Class Bitch

Something happened to me on a flight several weeks ago that has really stuck with me. I was flying back to Hong Kong from Shanghai -- in coach. I actually don't mind flying coach, although this particular flight was a little rough. In the row of seats behind me, I could count at least three small children who were, well, acting like children. I realize it's not their fault, so I usually just crank up the Ipod and try to shut them out.

I was near the front of the coach section (thankfully), and kept noticing this strange lady walking back and forth between my section and business class. This is usually a 'no no,' and I know when I fly business class, I pretend like I've never set foot in anything less. I pressed pause on my music so I could eavesdrop.

Lady: "Who cried? I can hear crying -- which one of you was it?"

Kids: *assorted whimpering and blubbering*

Lady: "You need to sit down and behave!"

While I agreed with her in principal, I couldn't figure out what kind of person had the guts to come yell at someone else's kids who were sitting in an entirely different section of the plane. Then I figured it out; it was their own mother. I peeked through the seats to see that she had two "helpers" (I can usually tell because they are Filipino) attending to her children on her behalf. All of them crammed in coach while she sipped champagne in b-class. I guess there may be some legit reason why she would do this (maybe she was offered a free upgrade -- who could refuse?!), but I had already decided: she was simply a bitch.

She only confirmed my suspicion after we landed. The stewardesses conveniently stand between business class and coach to allow the higher-paying passengers a chance to get off before all of us cattle start stampeding. The Bitch stuck her head over the top of the crowd, pushing the stewardess to the side, and had the guts to ask us to get out of the way as her family -- who were several rows deep -- could get off with her. I actually laughed out loud. She then appealed her case directly to her kids, as if we all could no longer hear what she was saying.

Bitch: "Kids ... can you just push your way through?"

Kids: *look up at me, getting a death glare returned*

Bitch: "Just duck under all the people kids and come to the front!"

Although I was in no hurry to deplane, I slid myself squarely in the aisle so her 5 year old could stare directly at my backside. I guess she was only worried about the kids getting off. The "helpers" can wait in the chow line with the rest of us, probably arriving at the gate just in time to lug her over-packed Louis Vuitton luggage to her waiting towncar. She's probably make them ride in the trunk too. Or walk home.

And this is why I can never get a helper. I could so be this lady. After spending a entire childhood bossing around my brother (and mother to the best of my ability), not to mention AC taking his unfortunate share of dictator-style direction -- I know better. Having someone, who is actually paid to take shit from me, and who gets deported if I decide to fire them? Oh no ... too much power for this guy.

I wonder if AC will have dinner ready by the time I get home? Just to be safe, I'd better call ahead and demand it. :)

The Arrival

As expected, hurricane Adam blew back in to Hong Kong a week ago and has caused a major disruption in my schedule. Was single life all that bad? I am adjusting back to couple-dom as well as can be expected.

I now have share the computer, and he quickly took up all my regularly-scheduled Skype time, resulting in a "you don't love me anymore" guilt-trip from my Mom by way of my brother. After a long day of work, I now come home to the equivalent of an excitable puppy who wants to be walked. While I am totally dragging, we've been to a few new restaurants and bars that have been very fun. It's nice to have a well-cooked meal every night also.

I also apparently forgot how to 'spoon', so I spend each night scooting away from this strange body in my bed. It's not exactly restful, but we're working on it.

Bond - James Bond

After a whirlwind day at the Shanghai office, I finished my meetings by phone-screening a candidate who, looking back, I think may have actually been retarded. Her son kept interrupting the call and I think she spanked him with me on the line. Let's just say she's not going to get the job.

Everyone at the office was raging about the "Bond" area of Shanghai. I actually thought they were saying 'bun' so I figured it was some type of dim-sum place. It ended up being a neat waterfront area with shops and restaurants. It was already so late when we got there that we rushed to the first dinner place we saw. The meal was very ... international I guess. I was in no mood for more Chinese food to be honest. My coworker wanted to try something new so she ordered a huge foie gras appetizer. She had never tried it before, so I knew a disaster was in the making. She poked at it repeatedly, and pushed it around so much the waiter finally asked if everything was okay. I opted for the tuna dish, which was prepared on a fresh bed of ... foam. Yes, my dish was full of bubbles. They were salty. The main course for my coworker was pigeon risotto. Sounds gross, but it actually looked good. I don't know if "pigeon" is actually pigeon or if something is lost in translation somehow. Not worth the risk for me.

So I'm back to Hong Kong this afternoon ready to celebrate my last bachelor weekend. AC makes his grand entrance on Wednesday!

Ni Hau

Beijing was such a blur I feel like I was hardly there. What I mostly remember is that the Olympic rings are recreated, well, everywhere. There is a huge countdown clock on display as you leave the airport showing the exact number of second until the opening ceremony. While I didn't see the "birds nest" stadium, I hold high hopes that I'll get a better chance to explore another time (if we get lucky, the actual Olympics!). I stayed about one block away from Tienanmen Square and didn't get to see it. Such a bummer.

Lunch today was Beijing duck. "Peking duck?" I asked. "NO!" it was quickly clarified. I guess this is a somewhat sensitive issue. I'm told the duck is specially roasted with special wood smoke, although they were unsure what kind of wood exactly. The restaurant was hugely popular -- we ended up on the fourth floor, everyone eating the same damn duck. They give you a little card so you know what number of duck you ate. I ate 1,150,252,875 (they have been serving proudly since 1864 you know). There are many ways you can eat the duck (skin slices like chips, the meat with the skin on wrapped in a flour tortilla, a soup made from the juices, and the head cut in half). Let's just say I tried 50% of the options, and I'll let you guess which.

Our ride to the Beijing airport was somewhat eventful. My coworker was accused of trying to pass of a counterfeit bill to the driver, so we blocked three major lanes of traffic while the argued about it. The driver behind us actually got out of her car and screamed at me. A year ago I would have died of embarrassment. Today, I shrugged and waved. Funny thing, the exact same thing happened when we got to Shanghai. Apparently, her money is actually fake. I can't tell the difference, but these cab drivers have an eagle eye!

The only other item of note is the funny rating system they have in China's immigration system. You can rate your immigration officer using buttons that range from an extremely happy face to an extremely mad face. Call me crazy, but I'm really not that interested in giving a sour rating to the person who's deciding if they're going to let me into a Communist country. Not my idea of a good time.

I'm in Shanghai for the rest of the week, so I hope I'll get a little more time to explore.

The N Word

I just had one of the most frustrating experiences in my life -- also known as my first private tutoring session with my Japanese language instructor.

After talking to my brother on Skype (he was mostly drunk, too boot) and listening to him roll off all kinds of crazy Japanese, I developed the incorrect impression of how easy or hard this was going to be. It was amazingly hard. Maybe if he would have just let me off the hook when it came to pronunciation, it might have been easier:

Tutor: Now, say this one (pointing to the sheet) -- a shi
Me: Ahh shee
Tutor: Try not to say the 'h' so much. Say A shi.
Me: Ahh sssheeee
Tutor: No, no. From the throat.
Me: Ahh Ssssherrrr
Tutor: Close, but pull your lips downward. Now, speak from the chin.
Me (making the ugliest face known to man): Awwwwwseerrrhb

And that was one damn syllable. I am supposed to memorize 70 words by next Monday. I can already tell I'm not going to have the time or patience to do this the right way.

I think later in the session, he could tell I was over it and tried to spice things up for me:

Tutor: So you always end a sentence with "ka" - that's how you know it is a question. Kind of like a question mark.
Me (yawning): Okay.
Tutor: You have probably heard people here in Hong Kong call Japanese people "deska deska deska" right?
Me (lying): Oh yeah, all the time.
Tutor: Well you really shouldn't use that term. It's kind of like saying n-i-g-e-r-o.
Me (now paying attention): Saying what?!
Tutor: You know, African American. N-i-g-e-r-o.

Maybe after this guy teaches me how to talk out of my chin, I can give him a few lessons on the correct spelling of curse words.

Typhoon Lagoon

The weather in Hong Kong has been a little scary this week. I vaguely remember my cultural trainer telling me about what to do when the weather gets bad. I had only experienced the really intense rain (they call it red and black level I think?) Red was the most torrential rain I'd ever seen, so I can't imagine what black is like. But the thing I should have paid more attention to was what to do in a typhoon. Typhoon is Chinese for hurricane. Earthquakes -- no problem. Snow -- been there. Hurricanes are new for me. What was I supposed to do again? Get under a table? Stop, drop and roll? I really should have paid more attention. Now I will likely step outside for some coffee and fly away like Mary Poppins.

When I got to work the other morning, a coworker was talking about a "level eight typhoon." They reminded me that the levels were 1,3, and 8. Level 10 means you're dead, basically. I'm not sure why they skip so many numbers in between but I knew I was supposed to be scared of level 8 for sure. In general, it's been pretty anti-climatic really. Just lots of rain and some major lightning storms that wake me up at night (those huge windows can be such a pain). Those are cool more than anything else really.

But the creepy thing is that it gets ... foggy ... (can't think of a better word to describe it) at the drop of a hat. Kind of like that dumb movie about the killer fog. It was 5:00 pm and my office suddenly felt very dark. I glanced out the window and it was pitch black -- I couldn't see a single thing. Thirty minutes later, the sun was shining again. Creepy.

Other than the weather, I'm headed to the mainland next week so that should be fun. That and I was making a fruit salad the other day and accidentally slipped on the banana peel that had missed the garbage can. Yes, my life is a cartoon. Maybe that Mary Poppin's thing isn't too far of a stretch ...

UPDATE - 30 minutes after I wrote this, we are now evacuating the office for a level 8 typhoon. Aaaahhhh! People at the office certainly don't seem scared, but I called AC who freaked out to a satisfying degree. :)

so jealous

I call this one ... "The Beginning of the End"



Love to Dan & Donna

For Eileen

They even have Hello Kitty subway cars. Interestlying, this was in Hong Kong when I'd expect it to be in Tokyo.

What a Difference A Day Makes

I simply cannot wrap my brain around the contrast I am experiencing between Delhi and Tokyo.

I left our Indian headquarters, looking back on a shockingly real, yet really amazing time. Over dinner, my coworker confessed that she and her husband separated six months ago and she hadn't told a soul at the office for fear of being chastised. It's no wonder my sexuality isn't going over so well with my Indian expats at the HK office. My empathy was rewarded by a promise of a home-cooked meal the next time I am in town. Something I fully plan to take advantage of.

Transitioning away from the power going out every hour or so, to hearing phrases such as "your mini bar is complimentary, Sir" I find myself warmly sliding into my FREE gin-and-tonic fuzz ready to head home tomorrow. Sorry I'm not writing more, but the Harry Potter finale kept me awake on the plane.

Delhi Belly

I think I might be sick.

I woke up very early yesterday, but wasn't hungry. I usually wake up starving to begin with, and for all my stomach knew it was nearly noon Hong Kong time. I forced myself to go down and have a small breakfast then rushed to the office. I worked straight through and skipped lunch as well. I felt okay, but kept thinking this can't be a good sign.

After a full day at the office, my coworker was kind enough to drive me to one one of the nicest Indian restaurants here in Delhi. She has my affliction of a lacking sense of direction, so we got somewhat lost on the way (I would generally be of no help, even less so in a foreign country).

When we finally made it there, the food was quite good. Garlic naan with some kind of chicken kaaba and some lentil-gravy-type sauce. I tried for the life of me to memorize the names, but one Cosmopolitan erased all record of the menu (yes, they laughed when I ordered it). It was served traditionally, meaning no utensils. So I ate with my hands and wiped them frequently on the gigantic-sized bib I was provided. In the end, we got little finger bowls with lemon wedges (it takes the grease and the smell away), and desert was a combination of some minty-tasting seeds, ground coconut and sugar crystals that you scoop into your hand and ate like Pop Rocks. She drove me back to the hotel (got lost again) and I was greeted to a live piano performance in the lobby. I briefly thought about having a cocktail at the bar (simply trying to kill whatever is apparently living in my stomach), but then realized the song he was playing was "Heart and Soul." You know the song ... the one everyone who has sat in front of a piano knows how to play. Assuming "Chopsticks" was next on the melodic agenda, I though my time better spent tearing through another chapter of Harry Potter.

This morning - still no appetite. Small breakfast, a precautionary Imodium, and a little prayer that my flight to Tokyo tonight isn't going to require frequent trips to the lavatory. I find myself mentally crossing sushi off the menu when I get there -- sadly.

No Pets --- NO EXCEPTIONS

Anyone see a problem with our ad for the house when it comes to the pet clause?

Holy Cow - literally

I don't even know where to begin. I am so tired this will likely be short, but I just had to write a quick note.

I flew into New Delhi on Sunday by way of Bangkok. I actually almost missed my connecting because I was so engrossed in Harry Potter -- I lost track of time. How embarrassing would that have been?

Delhi is ... indescribable. I think it's good that I adjusted to Hong Kong before setting foot in India because my head may have exploded. I probably would have turned right around and demanded to get right back on the plane. I have never experienced anything like this in my life. It begins with an interesting smell ... not in a good way, necessarily. You get used to it. It's hot and crowded. Crowded like I never knew existed.

The most amazing activity is driving. I was text messaging AC like a madman in the cab on the way to the hotel. There are lines on the road, but I think they were invisible to most of the drivers. You drive wherever the f*ck you feel like. Or if you want to walk, then walk -- right in the road along with the sea of drivers. There are people driving in on scooters, with their wife, fully decked out in her sari, sitting side-saddle on the back with no helmet. I will admit it's organized chaos, but I would rather drive in HK blindfolded than drive here. I can't even begin to describe it.

On the way there, we almost hit a cow. They also wander the roads. They are worshipped in the Hindu religion, but don't seem to be really cared for otherwise. I also had little kids knocking on the cab windows begging for money. My driver commented "Awww - kids" as he sped off with the five-year-old's face still pressed against my window. We passed entire mini-cities of what I can only describe as hovels. I have never seen such poverty -- and something tells me I'm actually in a somewhat affluent area. Rickshaws, motorized rickshaws, scooters, and nothing I rode in had seat belts. And the honking. I sit here typing, hearing nothing by car horns honking out my window. It's like the sound of the ocean; constant yet not as relaxing.

You have to see it to believe it. Not my video, but this is exactly what it is like. I am reserving judgement, but overall I feel so thankful for what I have.

Radioactive Sushi

I very often have to run websites through some type of web-based translator to figure out what exactly I am looking at.

Today, I was trying to figure out how the job application process worked in our Korean office. I ran our company site through Google's translator and began to struggle my way through. While you commonly get far-from-perfect translations, this one gave particularly funny results.

Talented man civil official .... the Career Section of the site?
Employment Process ... no need for further explanation on this one
Employment Notification ... think I got this one too!
From joining a company support drawing up ... uhm, I think this is where you apply for the job?
Passing self-illuminating sliced raw fish ... hmm, whatever this is, it doesn't sound fun. I think I'll avoid clicking on this link.

I am craving sushi now, however.

I have a Chinese name!

My ABC friend (American-born Chinese -- which I think is actually intended as an insult) told me that it would be a good sign if my coworkers gave me a Chinese name. I arrived at work today to find a little sign on my door that read:

側田

( Jut tin )

Apparently it's the name of another ABC person named Justin Lo who is an NY-born singer that is quite popular here in HK. I amazed my coworkers because I actually already knew who he was we discussed all the rumors that he wears hats because he is really bald. He's kinda cute for a filthy stinkin' ABC ... (just kidding -- I've only adopted the local prejudice against the Chinese mainlanders, but not the foreign born ones ... yet).

Things are improving -- gradually. They're also trying to teach me how to say "have you eaten breakfast yet?" but it's incredibly hard to say.

Is it que or queue?

Monday night was interesting. One of our VPs is retiring and moving back to the US. The management team in my office decided to throw him an impromptu going-away dinner at a restaurant called Aqua on the Kowloon side. Now I don't normally go over to Kowloon -- I equate it with the SF Eastbay. I'm not sure if that's entirely fair, but who moves to Manhattan and hangs out in Jersey? Maybe some people ... but not me.

Well, if this place is any example of what Kowloon has to offer, I am dead wrong! Probably the best thing was the view. It was like none other. Our table was in a private room fully surrounded by glass with a huge centerpiece of roses and candles. The food was ... Italian and Japanese. Weird combo, but it was good. I tried to be Mr. Cool and pick out the wine (not remembering that I can't do this effectively in SF and it's right next to the wine capital of the US!). My more-experienced VP quickly took over the role and ordered a 1997 vintage Italian wine. I can't even get myself to type the price, especially since we drank five bottles.

After dinner, I truly wanted to just go home. Not wanting to sacrifice the face time, however, I opted to join them at Felix in The Peninsula Hotel. The Peninsula is probably the most famous hotel in HK (mostly for me, since it's prominently featured in the Bourne series), and mostly known for its English afternoon tea. Felix was a somewhat-cool bar, but it was packed with ugly tourists in shorts. I was still feeling fabulous from Aqua, so I decided to classy up the place by ordering martinis. My coworkers were amazed when I drank two martinis and was still sober (small martinis and huge dinner -- I'm no Houdini, just 1/2 Irish and very practiced). After hanging out there for a few hours, we decided to go home. (Favorite comment from this part of the night: "Oh yes, I love San Francisco. It's so peaceful and quiet there, I can see moving there to retire!")

Most of us live in Pacific Place, so we all got in the same cab and headed back to HK Island. And here was my mistake. The two top guys are good friends, pretty drunk, and won't see each other ever again. And I'm in a cab with them headed to two different places -- allegedly. A private conversation broke out between them and before I knew it, the destination had changed to someone's house to play pool. I was trapped. So the cab ride took about 30 minutes straight up to the top of The Peak. (Favorite comment from this part of the trip: "Aren't you glad I gave you my Lexus? The 8 cylinder engine makes it up the hill so much easier than this cab!) The place was a total bachelor pad, with the exception of an immaculately refurbished antique pool table as the prominent centerpiece. The same piece of furniture became a source of major stress for the owner, as one of our party members was FOB Chinese and had never seen a pool table in her life. The end of her que more often found the felt than the ball, leaving the whole room cringing with every shot. (Favorite last quote of the night: "I no good with all these balls! (insert Asian-style giggle).

We got out of there at 1:00 and got home around 1:30. I actually made it to the office for my early meetings the next day in fantastic shape. The big boss stopped by my office to compliment my ability to hold my booze. And I think I just figured out how to get things done at the HK office.

Hairy Affair

I woke up this morning and realized that it was that time of the month for me. As I sleepily looked into the mirror, I couldn't help but notice the TWA (teeny weenie afro) growing on the top of my head. I really wanted to get my hair cut in SF one last time before I left, but there was just no way to fit it in.

I briefly thought about going to a fancy salon (they probably have one in the hotel that is in my building), but the allure of getting my haircut for less than 10 bucks overtook me. I trudged down to Wan Chai to try yet another venue.

Being a create of habit, I found myself at the exact place that AC forced me to go last time. Not wanting to be a fool twice in a row, I opted for the place next door. As I climbed the stairs, I noticed many hand-painted signs for the Goodwill store on the top floor. Characters from The Simpsons greeted me one after another, showing me the way to basement bargains at the top of the stairs. I can't imagine what kind of stuff they sell there, given that this section of Wan Chai is completely filled with crap-quality factory seconds that come directly from China. But at least they're not used ...

Were it not for the overwhelming smell of perming solution, I might have erroneously ended up at Goodwill, but the trail of hair led me to the correct location. I was quickly escorted over to the hair washing station decorated with a "Meet Joe Black" poster that had seen better days. I will say getting a scalp massage while looking at Brad Pitt wasn't half bad. She must have thought I was particularly dirty, because she washed my hair three times. It was an interesting combination of head massage and hair-pulling -- a mix of pleasure and pain that I would expect at some S&M establishment in San Francisco.

My "stylist" was a guy. Interestingly, I haven't had my hair cut by a woman the whole time I've been here. After carefully explaining what I wanted (since it's hot as hell, I'm willingly opting to be bald now), I checked out the scenery in the mirror. The ceiling was like the sky -- bright blue with clouds. To my right was something I never figured out what it was. It hung from the ceiling, was round, and had all kinds of black cords and plugs in it. It looked more like a torture device than anything (maybe this S&M thing was no accident!).

After covering my body with three aprons, I began to sweat like a pig. I have no idea why they gave me so many layers, but that shit does not breathe. Sweat started to roll down my forehead and combine with my freshly-cut hair to form a wolf-manish coating all over my face.

Seeing what a mess I was, they took me back to wash me again. I had to gingerly step through a group of people sitting on the stairs eating their lunch. I wonder how much of my hair fell into their cup-o-noodles. I didn't sit quite right in the chair, so my hair washer friend kindly pulled me into position by my ears.

Getting my hair cut has become quite an adventure. Give me a month or so, and I'll have a new non-hygienic adventure to share!

For Kate ...

They said you look pretty - like a model or a cheerleader or something ...

Letters from Iwo Jima (or Wan Chai ...)

I have been really wanting to write as of late, but have found myself with absolutely no time! So I'm making the unwise decision to take time out of my workday to jot down some thoughts in my head. Let's hope no one from the office is reading this ...

While I will go back and retroactively talk about my quick month in North America, I thought I'd write a little about my cultural training I took last Friday. Cultural training is a required element of my assignment, designed to assist with my integration into the local population. Many of you commented on some of the weird stuff that has happened here at the office, and while I still feel powerless against it, I at least feel like I understand it a little better. My thoughts can best be summarized in this faux letter written to me from my co-workers.

Dear AJ-

Thanks for coming to our office to help us out with all the work that has been piling up. We're happy you're here, however, we have a few items we'd like to make clear to you:

1. We don't trust you.

You're not a bad guy, but you have to realize that relationships take a long time to develop here. Heck, we're a culture that is thousands of years old. By comparison, you and your people are infants. Go suck on this teething ring, please.

2. We don't want to be your friend.

You get too friendly too easily, and it makes us nervous. We'll treat you to lunches for your first week, then you're on your own. Your definition of "friend" and ours is totally different. We met our friends when we were two years old and have seen each other daily since then. We could ask a friend for an unlimited amount of money and never expect to pay it back. We could commit murder in front of a friend and they'd do whatever they could to cover it up. You're a nice person, but if you're not going to help us get away with murder, then we're not "friends." Plus, we know you're only here for a few years. You're too much of a short-term investment.

3. We're more traditional than we think.

We in Hong Kong like to think we're closer to the west than China, culturally speaking. In reality, we're closer to the middle than we'd like to admit. We're very cosmopolitan, until you try to give us a clock as a gift or order an unlucky number of dim sum dishes -- then we get all spooky on your ass. And we're not all that down with the 'gay' thing. A few of us asked too many personal questions -- and now that we know we avoid you like you have SARS. No offense, right?

4. We're about results - not process!

We know you're trying to make order out of our crazy office, but we don't want it that way. We just want to get to the end as quickly as possible. We like to cut corners and rush through details just to get to the end goal. We're going to fight you tooth and nail if you ask us to do anything that takes up more time. Be prepared.

5. You're taking our money.

We're very financially motivated. We'll tend to marry as a financial investment first, love a distant second. You make more than us and you get to live in a fat apartment. We hate that. We don't see your value and would rather use that money ourselves for other stuff.

We realize we've made some broad generalizations about ourselves, but we want you to understand where we're coming from. Try to enjoy yourself here, but realize you're always going to be at the fringe of our society. Rather than trying to go native, please realize there are lots of expats out there in the same situation. Spit out that darn teething ring and go make some friends! You can give each other clocks as gifts and order weird numbers of dim sum dishes with abandon. Just as long as we're not around ...

All the Best,

The HK Office

Sorry!

Sorry I have been MIA for such a long time. I'm sitting at the airport on my way back to HK - this time for good! I have fun stories to share from my trip home, vacation in Mexico, a wedding, my last pride celebration in SF. Give me another day or so for my boredom to set in and I'll back back to writing in no time!

Happy Happy Joy Joy!

Even though I'm really excited to be heading back to the US next week, I still have the somewhat dreary task of getting everything arranged for my imminent return. Such mundane issues such as:

- do I leave a bunch of clothes here? I'm not sure if it makes sense to lug them all back to the US, just to lug them back again-again to Hong Kong. Maybe I'll just leave them in a box in my office or something.

- same question, only with my kitchen supplies. Should I just chuck this peanut butter or hang on to it?

- what do we do about luggage? If I take all the luggage, what will AC use when he comes over? Safeway plastic bags?

But, earlier this week I got the best bit of news ever! There was the issue of housing. I'll be back in another service apartment when I return, but I really didn't want to come back to Luard on the Park. The quality is okay and very close to the office, however, this little apartment has felt more and more like a prison cell lately. I think that all of the apartments here are studios, so I really just want a door (other than the one for the bathroom). Just a door.

So I went out on a limb and asked for my heart's desire. They told me that the waiting list was very long, and there was a good chance I'd have to stay elsewhere. "Maybe the Four Seasons?" my broker offered. Now who would have ever thought that I'd be poo-pooing staying at the Four Seasons? But I had my eyes set on a prize, dammit.

I got a call the next day. "Good news!" she proclaimed. "I got you a one-bedroom apartment at Pacific Place!" Yes folks, the only thing that I have not done at The Great is, well, lived there. I realize I've been using Pacific Place and The Great interchangeably, but actually Pacific Place is much more than just the grocery store. I will also have access to an AMC movie theater, two Starbucks, 11 restaurants, an MTR (subway) station -- all in the same building. I'll also be in a building with a gym (I actually have to use the gym of a neighboring hotel, which is fine with me), a full pool.

But most importantly, I won't even have to leave the comfort of my home to shop at The Great. I wonder if they deliver? No no, that would run the whole social experience. I just can't face a day where I don't get visually undressed by the cappuccino boy, or stare with wonder as they shave meat off some strange animal's leg. While they've stopped calling out to me with Christmas carols in March, they are now luring me in with a German Food Festival! I swear this place was made just for me.

"I have one small item, however that you may be unhappy with," she broke into my wiener schnitzel-infused daydream. "I must truly apologize, but there is no separate shower. The shower head is over the bathtub. Will this be acceptable?" My God they must get some real prima donnas if this is what they are apologizing for. "No issue," I warmly replied. Ahh ... back to the schnitzel ...

I'm Monican't!

For any rabid Friends fans (like I have re-become due to the re-runs that I get dressed to every morning) ... you know the one where Monica gets a job as a head chef, and starts work only to find out that all the employees are relatives of the old head chef that got fired? The subsequent episodes joke about how everyone at work hates her? I am totally her.

I've been joking for some time that everyone at my office hates me (as with most of my jokes, it's a bit of reality in a sugary coating of humor to make it easier to swallow). It's honestly not that they hate me (expect for probably one of them), but in general I am a total outsider. It all started when I noticed they'd all rush off to lunch together and leave me sitting alone at my desk day after day. I got used to that. My boss suggested I should try to "integrate" myself a bit more - maybe initiate a group lunch? Interestingly every time I tried to do this, there were miraculously doctor's appointments, interviews, previous engagements - not one person could attend. I made sure every night to go around and say goodbye to every person in our group. When I'd work late, I'd pop my head out to find the place deserted. No goodbyes for me!

Today it came to a head - it was comical. I'm not sure if it will translate well to "blog reading" but I'll try. I was asked to organize a training about a topic none of them care about. It's not even really my area, but my boss asked me to do it so I'm trying. First attempt, not one person showed up to the meeting. Nice. Second try, I got them all to verbally commit to a specific date and time so they were on the hook. Most of the attendees are located in HK, so I re-arranged my desk to prepare for the local team to join me in my office. The ring leader was visiting the person next door, and poked her head in my office to ask,"is it time to start our meeting?" I'm sure she couldn't help but notice my welcoming set up. Laptop in presentation mode, phone on speaker centrally located to catch everyone's voices, handouts in front of each of the chairs - the works! She runs over to her office (I assume to grab her things) and then I hear the conference line beep.

Justin: Who just joined the call?
Caller: It's Angela (names have been changed to protect the guilty) ...

Angela was the person standing next to my office just two seconds ago. Why is she dialing in on the conference call instead of just coming to sit in my office?

Justin: Uhm, okay. I think we just need to wait for Sharon to join us.

I stand up and peek out my door through Sharon's office window (we all sit in a line next to each other).

Angela: Oh, she's in my office with me. We're just staring Netmeeting. Go ahead.

I find myself sitting in my office, on a conference call with my HR team, who are piled into the office next to me listening to my voice through the phone, reviewing the presentation via Netmeeting while nicely printed color copies sit in front of me collecting dust.

They hate me. They can't even sit in the same room as me. They're not even trying to hide it now. I didn't even know what to say, so I conducted the entire conference call listening to their responses both through the phone and through the wall. So weird. They barely participated throughout the entire call and finally said to me, "I think the best way you can help is to simply do it for us and send us an email when you're done." Chinese honesty ...

Companionship. I couldn't understand what my boss meant when she said, "honestly, one of the reasons I'm most excited for you to come to Hong Kong is for the companionship." At the time, I thought it was such an odd thing to say. Now, I completely understand what she meant. As much as I love it here, I can't wait to go back to the US and spend some time with friends, family, even coworkers who enjoy me as much as I enjoy them.

Friends With You

Okay okay - I hear your complaints and I'm trying to write more. Sorry Cindy. It's just that nothing incredibly interesting is happening to me latley. I think that everything that happens to me is pretty interesting, but that's beside the point.

Last week was spent in Tokyo. The usual stuff went down while I was there. They have really beefed up customs at Narita airport and I got a full pat-down. I think maybe a full "rub-down" might be more appropriate as the customs officer totally fondled my manhood - twice! Don't be fooled buddy - the weapon I'm packing is totally legal. :)

The taxi driver got lost on the way to the office and we only got there eventually because I just happened to see the building out of the corner of my eye. That is always my fear. Tokyo is so hard to get around and they rarely speak English. But they are too damn polite to tell you they have no idea where your trying to go, so they do their best which sometimes results if you not getting where you need to go. If I was particularly motivated, I could probably just walk next time. Or maybe have someone show me how to use the subway to get there. I didn't get home until 9:00 or 10:00 every night, so I had just enough time to run grab room service before bed. Pretty boring.

I did get a chance to get reacquainted with an old friend of mine - exercise! I had no idea how much I missed running until I spent some time on the treadmill. The gym of the hotel has an amazing view of the city - it's really neat to watch while you're running. It put me in such a great headspace.

Anyway, so this weekend has been pretty mellow. I picked up a really cool book called Friends With You. From what I can tell, these two guys (Samuel Borkson and Auturo Sandoval) started out making these weird little stuff animals that gradually developed into some really neat graphic art and full blown installations at major modern art museums. Anyway, I've been trying to study art more because I like it but I'm ignorant. Not sure if this book helped or hurt, but it had pretty pictures!

The Flock Block

I've found that the pace of life here in Hong Kong is fast, yet slow. Maybe it's just the driving that's particularly fast. But I find the general pace of walking to be insanely slow.

I'm not a fast walker. Just ask AC (who I usually have to run to keep up with). But as it's getting hotter and hotter outside, I don't want to spend a huge amount of time out there. Also, my lunch break is short, so I want to get where I'm going and come back in an expedient manner.

But here, people tend to walk slowly. And there are so many people, they have developed flocking instincts that enable them to quickly form small groups that block the walkway when a fast-walker approaches. I find myself like a predator, trying to find gaps or weak sections of their wall, only to be confused and eventually repelled by the continual undulation of the group. They also use toxic substances as a defense mechanism. If I get too close, I'm usually blasted with a exhale of cigarette smoke casually thrown over a shoulder.

I guess I should just budget more time, put on more deodorant and assimilate into the flock.

The Cat's Out of the Bag

So I can FINALLY write about this now, but as many / most / none of you know, I got an offer to stay in Hong Kong for a minimum of two years. It's a really awesome opportunity at just the right time in our lives, so I accepted. I'm grudgingly allowing AC to join me, against my better judgement. :)

The bad news is that this is going to happen very quickly. I will be here in HK through the end of May, in the US until June 8th, off to Mexico, then back to HK.

For those of you local, stay tuned (hopefully) we'll do some type of going-away shin dig!

Mid Level Madness

I was off work today because of "Labour" day - fine by me! I unfortunately had at 7:00 am conference call w
So my little abode in Wan Chai is starting to drive me nuts. What was advertised as 400 square feet, in reality, is more like 200 and change - and feels like 100 plus. I'm really missing having access to a gym (man, these jeans must have shrunk or somethin'!). So today, I shrugged off my laziness and explored.

For the record, I TRIED to find a place that would measure me for a tuxedo (sorry D&A), but everything was closed. I'll try again tomorrow.

After that, I went in search of new digs. Soon, I'll be moving out of Luard Park due to my lease expiring and will need new accommodations. For some reason, I've been convinced that the mid-levels would hold my next abode in Hong Kong. All my expat coworkers live on the southern part of the island - too far away from civilization for me. I love the beaches and everything, but having to take a cab to go anywhere isn't ideal in my opinion. I want to be where the action is!

So I decided to go it on foot. What a dumb idea. I went to the Hopewell Center and took some stairs up the hillside. Oh boy, there were a ton of stairs. That took me to Kennedy Road, which was amazingly quiet. Once you get a little way out of the craziness of the north side of the island, it's like you're in a little slice of paradise.

So as I was soaking in the bird calls and the yellow-fever tainted mosquitoes, I continually came across more and more stairs. I'm horrible with a map, so I blindly went up them. The funny thing I realized is, many of these stairs are built exclusively for an apartment complex or two. I went up this particularly cool structure that looked like a spiral staircase blasted out of solid rock, only to find a very confused security guard as I tried to play it off that I went up and down the staircase for no reason whatsoever. There were also some sections of the road that had no sidewalk - and AC can attest what a scary proposition that may be.

In the end, I alighted another random staircase and found myself right next to - The Great! All roads point there, I'm telling you! With disgusting dark sweat stains all over my designer t-shirt, I shuffled my way home. My little place in Wan Chai didn't seem so small after all. Especially after I rode up the elevator with my neighbor - and a hooker - yeah, life in Wan Chai isn't so bad after all.ith the US, but happily took a nap promptly after.