Home Sick

Most of the time, I'm perfectly content here in HK. I'm coming to realize that it can be a somewhat solitary lifestyle out here - but with all the craziness I'm accustomed to in the US it's sometimes a welcome change. Even when surrounded by people (mostly locals), there are language and cultural barriers that seem to prevent getting too close.

I'm good until I get something like this. Nothing like an apparently naked niece and Tater to tug at the ol' heart strings.

I made steak tonight. What has gotten into me?

Singapore Slung

I surely hope that this trip was not a glimpse into my business-related travel future. It wasn’t bad, but, okay it was bad. Not as bad as my infamous business-trip-from-hell to Dallas, but … okay here goes.

Pre-Flight

Hong Kong was raining like mad. They call it “red rain” after a warning system they have in place for, well, heavy rain. There is amber, red and black. Not sure what you’re supposed to do (black rain … aaaahh …. take cover!), but nevertheless I was sure that my flight was going to be f-to-the-ucked.

It actually wasn’t that bad. We took off 1.5 hours late so I got into Singapore well after midnight. On the bright side, I was able to call AC on his birthday and chat for a few minutes on the cab ride to the hotel. Singapore was amazingly hot and muggy for 1:00 am, so I could only imagine what the daytime would be like. Got to bed around 1:30-ish? Maybe closer to 2:00.

Day 1

Got up at 7:00 to iron my clothes and grab some breakfast. My face is back to 15-year-old-virgin status, so I greeted a fresh batch of pimples just in time to meet the whole International HR team. At breakfast, I saw some people wearing shirts with my company’s logo, but I only cranked out about five hours of sleep so I wasn’t quite in the mood to make friends. First day of meetings was pretty good. The entire agenda was running behind, but we had a hard stop at 5:00 pm so we could go off to some mystery event. Turns out it was a safari. Okay, so I was pretty excited about the safari, especially at night, but I only brought my business clothes and no tennis shoes. I was able to kind of casualize my current outfit, but when I went outside – rain again. Major major rain. And lightning. And thunder right after the lightning that shook the entire bus we were on. I’m told I really should start to expect this every day for the next few months, but I don’t have an umbrella. So I kinda got a little wet on the way to the restaurant. Overall, kinda cool

Dinner was nice, and we were treated to a show that involved fire breathing, a performer rubbing a flame all over his skin and in his mouth, and an exciting exhibition where my coworkers had to hold balloons between their legs while blind-folded guys in loincloths popped them with blow darts. The Europeans didn’t quite know what to make of all of it. They were actually pretty wigged out. The night safari was cool – the animals were pretty active (likely because they had all just been fed). I forgot my camera. Dammit!

The agenda for the second day of the meeting was totally revamped. For me, this meant I had an extra 15 minutes for one session and 30 minutes less for the other. We got back to the hotel around midnight, so I went back to my room and revamped both presentations. I really wanted to do a good job because this was the capstone of my entire project. To make things worse, the following day was going to start one hour earlier from the original schedule. In bed around 2:00 am, up again at 6:30. I think this brings my cumulative total of sleep to 9.5 hours-ish over two days?

Day 2

This is a day I’d rather not remember. Let’s just say this. AJ, who was totally sleep-deprived and had two cups of coffee to compensate for the lack of sleep, shouldn’t give presentations to non-native English speakers. Oh God it was bad. To top it off, I got extremely nervous for some reason. Tried to crack a couple of jokes, unsuccessfully. Is this thing on? Apparently not. Started sweating profusely. Oh man, it was bad. I can’t even type about it.

So I returned to my seat, drenched in sweat, trying not to cry (oh God, is that awful sweaty smell me? I’m so glad I’m sitting next to the VP). Then, my second presentation got cancelled entirely. Besides the fact that I stayed up until 2:00 revamping it, now a total waste of time, maybe it was for the best. They took one look at the first one and said ‘cut this guy from the team!’

The meetings end late, again, and we have to run off for another business dinner. I have exactly 45 minutes of free time. I decide a nap was in order. I set the alarm on my cell phone for 25 minutes and set it on the bed next to me. I close me eyes and suddenly the alarm goes off. Huh? I pick it up, thinking maybe someone is calling me, only to find out that I had instantly fallen asleep and 25 minutes had gone by. I sat there in a total mind warp. Did I even feel refreshed? I can’t believe I fell asleep and didn’t even remember!

I ran downstairs, including bumping into several walls and getting off the elevator on the wrong floor, to meet everyone in the lobby. In the mirror, I notice that I have red pillow-marks all over my face. Nice. We get into the van and it’s all girls (it’s HR after all), completely screaming while reviewing each others’ recent clothing purchases. “Oh my God, look at those cuuuute shoes! What is that dress made out of? Cotton? No way!” I looked out the window and just longed to be somewhere, anywhere but here. Somewhere quiet, somewhere I had some friends – maybe even some nice gay friends – who also talk about shoes but not nearly as ear-splitting – or maybe just home in my little apartment in HK. Singapore was so beautiful, but I was officially over it.

But apparently Singapore wasn’t yet over me. There was much more to come! Dinner was actually very nice and I had a killer Ceasar salad that rivaled Zuni any day. During dinner, my boss leaned over to ask when I’m leaving. I inform her that I waited too long to book my flight, so I had to be at the airport at 6:45 am. I really needed to leave the hotel by 4:15 or 4:30 at the latest. She suggests that I transfer on to her Singapore Airlines flight and join her for a tour of Singapore. Hmm … do I dare? This would be really tempting fate. I mull it over, more relishing the idea of getting some sleep rather than the tour, but decide to simply arrange a 4:00 am wake up call and get the hell outta dodge. In bed tonight around 12:30, wake up call at 4:00. Total sleep over three days … I can’t even do the math. 12 hours?

So I’m at the airport. Exhausted, smelly, but on my way home (I saved time my skipping a shower in the morning A decision I’ll soon regret). I decide I’m not even going to go in the office. I deserve some rest. God I can’t wait to sleep on the plane. At the United counter in Singapore, they have this system where you line up for check-in by destination and class. I am escorted over to the Hong Kong queue (apparently it’s headed to San Francisco after HK) and review all the signs while waiting. Flight 896 Business Class. Flight 896 1K Members. Flight 896 HK Only. Flight 896 US Only. Flight 896 Cancelled. That’s odd, what class is “cancelled?” Interesting … wait … there’s no chance that … no … the flight’s not … naah … I’m not even going to think about it.

(@*&$!% $*!!@%#?!!!) These expletives are repeated in my mind, over and over and over.

So my flight is cancelled. I am about ready to jump out of my skin. They very politely transferred me to the Singapore Airlines flight for 1:00 pm. Yep – that very flight I decided not to willingly be on. Maybe I can sit with my boss and enjoy the irony! I can’t even get a boarding pass until 11:00 (it’s now 5:00), meaning I can’t get through security, so I have to sit with a million people in the very hard chairs that surround the baggage check in area. There’s no room to lay down. My mobile phone is dead, so I can’t call anyone. There’s no wireless Internet. My laptop battery is dying. This is fun.

I go grab some coffee for comfort and a much-needed pick me up. You know how coffee tends to get things “started” in the morning, so I run over to the little boy’s room. I proceed to clog the toilet. It’s not my fault! They don’t have those toilet seat condoms here so it takes a lot of tissue to create a barrier between your hiney and this 3rd world toilet seat! I’ve had it. I raised my head proudly and rolled my wheelie bag through the fecal fountain. As the bathroom began to flood, I looked in the mirror to find the pillow-marks have been replaced by a large red hand print - some kind of cosmic bitch-slap. And a new batch of pimples. Sigh.

I curled up in the fetal position, sucked my thumb and knocked out two books (Misery by Stephen King – AWESOME and Prey by Michael Crichton – so so).

At 10:30, I run to the Singapore Airlines counter hoping they’ll at least give me a boarding pass so I can get past security to some comfortable chairs. I hand the clerk the transfer stub they gave me and hold my breath.

Counter Guy: Sir, this is a United Airlines stub.

Me: Yes, I was on the cancelled flight this morning, so they transferred me to you.

Counter Guy: Okay, may I have your ticket?

Me: That’s all they gave me.

Counter Guy: Sir, I need a ticket. Didn’t they give you a ticket.

Me: No

Counter Guy: Okay, hang on. *picks up phone* Uh huh. Yes. Yes. No, no ticket. Mr. Arnold. Uh huh. Yes. They said you need a ticket.

So at this point, I have to make a decision. I can crawl over this desk and put this guy in a headlock until he dies from my BO, or I can start to cry like a baby. Suddenly, my travel instinct kicks in. His hair looks particularly fluffy. Is that a flowery cologne I smell? Also … oh this is too good … is he wearing makeup?

Me: I’m so sorry that I didn’t follow the process. I’ve been at this airport since 4:00 am and I’m so tired and just want to get home. I’m wondering if there’s anything else you might be able to do for me? *conjuring up my best I-know-you’re-gay-and-I-am-too-secret-look*

He was the nicest kid on the planet. He walked over to the United counter for me (all the way in another terminal) and tried to get it sorted out. He printed me a little fake boarding pass to get me in past security. About 20 minutes later, as I was going to grab some food I hear “Mister Arnold! Mister Arnold! Wait!” He chased me across the airport after I left to get me a real boarding pass so I could sail right through. He turned my day around.

The airport was beautiful. They had HUGE orchid gardens all throughout. The food on SA was much better than United, including my first Singapore Sling! The flight was over before I knew it and I was a new man.

So now I’m home, after 15 consecutive hours of travel and so glad to be “home.” I’ll try Singapore again … someday …

My Love's Coming Down Like ...

Today we've had the most amazing thunder and lightning storm here in Hong Kong (I guess I can stop saying "here in Hong Kong" because it's pretty obvious by now). It's weird for it to be hot and rainy at the same time. Maybe people in the South are accustomed to this, but I find myself asking - do I wear a coat? On Tuesday I opted for a light jacket. I only ran outside for a few minutes to grab some lunch and nearly died from heatstroke. It was the strangest feeling to be soaked from the outside of my clothes (the rain) and also soaked from the inside of my clothes (sweat!).

When I finally made it back into the office I threw off my coat and then proceeded to freeze from being wet with all the air conditioning. There must be a trick to how to dress right in this kind of weather. I look outside and the answer seems to be no jacket, umbrella optional. No umbrella doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense either, but maybe I'll try it.

So the best part is that I get to hop on a plane in a few hours and fly to Singapore. With every rumble of thunder, I get a little more excited for the flight. I'll try to take some pictures while I'm there since I've never been there before. All I know is that chewing gum is illegal. All the rest will be a surprise.

I'm Famous

http://www.businessweek.com/ap/financialnews/D8OIJE8G0.htm

Many thanks to my friend Ron for making me sound so cosmopolitan. There will be an autograph session when I return to the US, for a slight fee of course.

Skype Hype

Truth be told, I think I miss my dog more anything. AC can come visit. I can write emails to the rest of you. Tater just has to sit at home and miss me - or so I fantasize. He also isn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier, so I'm honestly totally afraid that he's going to forget me! I know deep down he secretly wants to go live with Chris and Christie, especially since Chris allegedly lets him sleep in the bed with him.

Today proved he totally remembers me! Although I'm sure AC is still his favorite, it's a nice concession to simply be remembered.

So many of you (Kate and Lynette to be specific) have recommended Skype to us. I have no idea why we waited so long to use it, instead building up a yet-to-be-determined mobile phone bill. I'm dreading when it comes due. I'm sure you all know this already (this part is for my Mom), but Skype is a phone service that works over the Internet - both voice and image with a webcam.

I had it set up, but had never used it. Then this morning I got a "call" from Adam at about 7:30 am. I had no idea what to do, so I simply hit 'answer.' "Hello?" AC's voice came magically from the depths of my laptop. "Can you hear me?" I replied. "Yes!" he exclaimed. I guess my laptop has a microphone somewhere ... but it was that simple. We chatted for hours - FOR FREE.

Anyway, back to Tater. So AC was initially broadcasting my voice over the computer speakers. Tater was totally confused. He was sniffing the computer and running around underneath the desk try to figure how where the heck I was. Of course, it didn't help that I was offering him treats and barking like a dog, but it was fun.

Later that night, AC and I were chatting via his laptop while Tater snoozed on the couch. When he went to grab a drink, he put me on speaker so I could say 'hi'. He looked right into the camera and tilted his head from side to side like only inquisical dogs can do. He sprung from the couch and ran behind the laptop trying to expose my hiding place. He then ran to the front - is this a game of hide-and-seek? It was so cute to watch, but I think we messed with his mind a little too much.

PS - here are the pictures Adam took while in HK - there are a lot!

The Incredible, Edible ...

The Great strikes again ... I tried to pick one up but they were indescribably heavy! I wanted to buy one so bad. Why didn't they have them at Easter?!?

The Song of the City

With AC long gone, I'm sadly reminded of what I'm missing having someone around. I sulked for most of Monday, feeling sorry for myself yet enjoying a beautiful day in Wan Chai. The void was filled (I use the passive tense to make it seems as though I had nothing to do with it) with such disgusting junk food, I'm too embarrassed to even write it down, but after a horrible stomach ache that whole night I was cured.

Forcing myself to be positive, I quickly found myself back to my old pattern and reunited with the other things I enjoy when enjoying an evening alone. I'm already halfway through the latest 'Boure' book (I sure love non-academic reading) and I only picked it up yesterday! I'm caught up in all my other blog reads and responded to emails that had been there for weeks (sorry).

Tonight, I didn't leave the office until 8:30 and wasn't hungry when I got home. I found myself in my usual position, lying in bed propped up on a pillow with my head up against the window's edge. The way my little alley is structured, you can hear everything so clearly at night. There's the obvious sounds you'd expect like the traffic, the shouting, the prostitutes (I can almost say "oh no you diiiiiiuuuuhnnnt!" in Cantonese). Then there are the more subtle sounds that I just live for. The squeak of sneakers on the basketball court - they can almost sound like a flock of birds when the game gets really intense. The low, sad groan of the trolley cars making their way down Johnston Avenue - it sounds exactly like MUNI back home. The little kids, out way past any American concept of a bedtime, begging their parents for a kiwi juice from a street vendor. Endless conversations in a language I will never understand.

And the smells - I just don't get it sometimes. I swear I smell baked garlic bread. Right now, it's pizza I swear it. I'm sure if I went downstairs it would turn out to be deep fried pigeon beaks, but somehow when it gets up to the 5th floor it's heaven. Maybe I'm just used to the smell of cooking organs. I was practically raised on hot dogs, maybe I"m just coming back to my roots.

Lan Kwai Wrong

So whatever lacking 'bang' that Macau went out with, we made up for it last night. The long and short of it is we went to Lan Kwai Fong and made the most of life in general. This is basically how it went down:

Me: Are you sure you want another drink?

AC: Of course!

Me: You have a 14 hour flight tomorrow - are you suuuuure?

AC: Whoo hoo! I'm existing and it's awesome! I love existing! Gimme a drink to celebrate my existence!

Me (later): What time is it? Should we go home?

AC (relenting): Uhm, it's 5 am. I think we should probably leave.

So we finally found a good gay scene, just in time for Adam to go back to San Francisco - I'm sure I'll never go by myself. We also met 1/2 of the Pet Shop Boys (Neil Tennant)... AC was the only person brave enough to go talk to him, and then secretively take his picture like a stalker. My hero ...

For getting home at 5 am, AC is doing surprisingly well. He's currently dancing around my apartment reenacting a scene from the Lion King - something tells me he'll do okay on his flight.

A Cut Above

We are back from Macau. I would like to say things ended with a "bang," but it was more of a whimper. For all the fun that place is, it has a pretty lame nightlife. Maybe I just wasn't in the right headspace for cheesy entertainment, but that's all there was to choose from. In search of something fun, Adam and I headed over to The Sands. We made our way to the Starlight Lounge and took a seat in the small seating section. We found ourselves next to the largest video screen I had ever seen in my life. This thing was at least four stories tall and we were siting right in front of it. As AC was strongly backlit by a rotating cityscape scene, I could count every stray hair on his head through my squinted eyes. It was something like sitting on the sun, only with martinis.

After the blinding light show, we were treated to several all-girl cover bands who had seemed to have learned all their English songs phonetically. Our personal favorite was "Smooos Oferator" - a timeless classic.

By the time we got back to Hong Kong, I was downright shaggy. The last time I'd had my hair cut was San Francisco in February! AC kept saying he'd seen a place in Wan Chai that looked good. "A cut above Supercuts!" was how he described it. "Considering I would never get my hair cut at Supercuts, can we find a place that is 27 steps above?" I replied.

But when the day came, for some strange reason AC lead me to Lifestyles .. a place where you can get a massage that is named after a brand of condoms. I should have turned around right then. I accidentally turned into a similar doorway that had the word 'salon' on the window, but I was quickly given correction. There was no salon in my future. Why was AC so adamant I go to this place of all places? Were they giving him a cut of the profits or something?

I was motioned to the chair (a rolling type of chair you see in offices) while my bored-looking stylist plopped down his magazine and asked if I wanted a haircut. I'm not sure what else was on the menu, so I confirmed a haircut is all I'd need today. I looked at the mirror in front of me and saw a small clock radio - a nice touch to provide the customer some entertainment. The power cord, it appeared, was originally taped to the wall to keep it it out of the way. All the tape had since pulled off the wall to be replaced by more hair than I care to describe. It was like macrame. I looked around my chair - hair was everywhere. I hope no one is ever murdered in that shop, because analyzing the DNA evidence would be daunting.

Speaking of murder, back to the guy that cut my hair. "Two on the sides, five on the top," I explained. "Natural in the back!" I remembered, not wanting that stupid line on my neck.

"Don't cut the back?" he asked in confusion.

"No, cut the back ... number two ... just no line."

"Oh okay. Two on the sides, five on the top, no line in the back," he confirmed. As I've learned in Hong Kong, if they can repeat it back to you, they've got it. If they can't, keep trying. Especially when your hair is involved.

He started in with a two on the sides ... everything going according to plan. Two on the back, things still look good. The "long" section on the top of my head starting getting narrower and narrower. "Maybe I'm getting a faux-hawk ... I've always wanted to try that," I thought to myself. Narrower and narrower we went. "Maybe just long bangs?" I lied. I knew where this was headed. Off went the last patch leaving number two ... all over my head ... pun intended ... nothing left but very bald head.

Then a strange thing happened. He took off the two guard and put on the five guard and started going over the top. Not quite sure the point of that, given that five is longer than two, and the hair was long gone by that point. A lady walked up behind us and started speaking Chinese to the hair butcher. "My manager," he said to me, motioning with his head to the woman. Was there a slight pleading in his eyes? Did he know he just totally screwed up? Was he running the number five over my head because he was really that stupid, or was he trying to cover for his mistake?

In the end I didn't say anything. I paid, left, and tried to figure out a way to blame AC for what happened (is it working?). "It's just hair!" he finally exclaimed. "It will grow back!"

"Oh yeah? Well then why don't you also get this haircut out of sympathy for me. I know a guy who does a great job, whether you want it or not!" The awkward silence that ensued proved my point ... it's not just hair. It's a darn good thing I am so damn handsome that I can pull off this style. Otherwise I'd use all that extra DNA in the salon to my advantage.

Macau Mula

AC and I spent most of yesterday just exploring the local downtown neighborhood where some of the newer casinos are located. It definitely has more of a European feel - you can really tell the Portuguese influence. The big difference is that there are still a lot of British people in Hong Kong, but we have rarely seen Portuguese people here in Macau. Except as security guards in the casinos.

So it's like Vegas, but not. Most of the casinos, with the exception of the brand new Wynn and Lisboa are very small. You get through security at The Rio, for example, to find a small room with maybe 20 or 30 table games. And that's it. So we've learned some games they love here in Asia (one involves sorting porcealin buttons from a jar into groups of four and betting on the remainder), but have spent the majority of our time at the Wynne in the slots. I amazingly won enough money to pay for our hotel room (the secret was a game called "Stinking Rich" featuring old white people decked out in jewels and a variety of smelly figures - my favorite a rotten egg with green tinted yolk), so we are definitely very much ahead. I suggest we stop now, but we'll see what actually happens.

The environment is also not terribly rowdy. They are lacking the glitz and glamor of Vegas (as tired as that can be sometimes). For the most part, it's pretty calm and the cocktail waitresses are serving hot tea and free bottled water. We got home last night stone-cold sober and only slightly tired - kind of a nice change!

Today will probably be the greyhound races and maybe a nice dinner, then back to HK tomorrow!