skinny die me

There are some things I just don’t get about Hong Kong, such as ads like this that I’ve been seeing around the MTR lately:

I mean, what is “HOT LINDA BB” supposed to mean?! I assume the woman is called Linda, but WTF is “BB”?! I know that “BB” is Cantonese slang for “baby”. But “Hot Linda BB”?!

I don’t know why I get so worked up about random stuff like this, but somehow, a 29 year old woman allowing herself to be called “BB”, just really irks me. Not withstanding the fact as well that this is one of the many posters around the MTR constantly showing images of scantily clad women advertising weight-lost programmes day in and day out to every single girl and woman who rides the MTR.

What messages are we sending to girls here? Do they aspire to being called “BB” and having this scrawny body with no muscle tone whatsoever? That the best way to lose weight and have a great body is through dodgy diet plans, “weight-loss coffee”, and whatever the latest fads and gimmicks are?

As I write this, my flatmate is lying in bed wearing “slimming stockings”.

This herd mentality we have in Hong Kong, and the long-standing quest for everyone to lose weight the lazy way, even if it means buying into obviously stupid schemes, makes me just want to shake a pale mushy tween by the shoulders and just tell her to wake the fuck up and look outside of this oppressively weird bubble we live in and just go and swim a few laps. That might do more for your health and weight than packages of laxatives in pretty pink packaging.

Hong Kong – The City Where Dreams Come True

Not too sure about the dreams come true bit, but what I know right now is that given the past one or two months of absolutely dismal wet, grey, and muggy weather, I can do with a good reminder of why we also sometimes think this is one of the greatest cities in the world.

This is the link to a 360° panoramic aerial project in which I’m very pleased Hong Kong is included. It says HK is the city where dreams come true. Click to fullscreen mode and start dreaming.

If you haven’t seen Hong Kong before, I hope you’re going to see how absolutely stunning this city can be. If you have been here or do live here already, you’re about to experience it in a way you most likely haven’t been able to.

Now, if only they have some sort of 3D immersion experience, then I can pretend this current weather doesn’t exist….along with all the other crap that goes on here.

never drink beer before a 3-hour bus ride

Last week was spent in various places around Hungary, Austria, Slovakia, and the Czech Republic.

Here are a few things I’ve learned:

1. Never drink beer before a 3-hour bus ride.
2. If I go to a classical music concert in a grand old historical European concert hall – I will fall asleep.
3. If you go around wearing a red hooded rain jacket with a friend wearing a blue hooded down jacket, all your photos together will look like an episode of South Park in Europe. (No, I’m not putting up a photo of that. It’s utterly ridiculous.)

the state of hong kong parenting makes me want to have babies

Every Saturday morning if you go out onto the streets of HK, you’ll be confronted by adults, teenagers, and children alike fundraising for a charity.

To avoid constant hassle, the government has a system where registered charities can apply for permits to fundraise on a specific Saturday so that you get different charities out every week. (I think they now do it on Wednesdays sometimes too). After giving a donation, they would stick a little sticker onto your top to signify that you’ve already donated so others of their group will not approach you anymore that day.

Many a times, the fundraising is a school extracurricular activity where teenagers would stand expectantly in uniform. Or, if the kids are too small, a parent would either do the actual fundraising with the child shyly in tow or the they would supervise nearby, gently prodding the kids forward encouraging them to speak up.

Walking down the street this morning, a mother with a little kid in tow held up her standard issue collection bag and asked for a donation. I usually ask people about the charity they’re fundraising for as it’s nice to know what I’m contributing to. You can usually tell by the name on the bag but I think it’s nice to talk anyways. People never fail to give a brief one-liner description and that’s more than enough as I slot in some money and go on my merry way.

So I asked this woman what today’s charity was for. She held her bag up higher and read out the charity’s name. It has one of those names that do not indicate at all what its purpose was. So I said again, what does it do? She looked at me blankly, then pointed to the badge on the child’s school uniform and read out the name of the school. It was some Christian school by the sound of it, but still that doesn’t tell me anything. I can only assume that the charity and the school are funded by the same organisation?

when being scared is good

The only thing worst than being on a terrifying plane ride is being on a terrifying plane ride and watching a movie where a character is sitting nicely on a plane and then unexpectedly his plane explodes in mid-air.

I was aghast.

My flight to Bangkok was delayed by 2.5 hours due to bad weather. The rain stopped for a bit during the one hour we were corralled on the plane queuing for our turn on the runway, but by the time we were finally roaring up at speed, we were taking off in a torrent of rain, lightning, and thunder.

It lasted for the better of an hour after take off, a stomach-churning ride of ups and downs and a whole lot of shaking. Having a window seat by the wings, I was terrified. At one point, the combination of horizontal rain, lightning and the plane’s own lights created this bright orange effect down the left side and for a moment I was convinced we were on fire.