It’s good to be back!

Either two weeks out of my heels have caused me to forget how to walk in them again, or that the prospect of going back to work is so daunting, that I was thisclose to falling face first onto the pavement getting out of my bus this morning.

But of course, due to my athletic ability and my talent for no reaction and zero facial expressions, I gracefully gripped the handles on the door, pulled out my wedged heels and stumbled onto the sidewalk instead. Like nothing ever happened!

And into the pouring rain.

Ah…it was pissing when I left, and it’s still pissing when I return. Just like I’ve never left!

Must be the 131 emails waiting in my inbox inadvertently sending messages to my brain this morning: Don’t come back…dont’ come back…don’t come back…face plant yourself on the sidewalk and don’t come back….

Snippets

Back in Hong Kong after almost 2 weeks in sunny England:

Ok, this was pre-England, just the night before we flew off.

I decided to (finally) make an appearance at Valley’s End of Season Hockey Ball after, what, 5 years?

Nasty was in town and so there we went. Don’t ask what happened.

What’s important is…I look goooooood. Eh heh heh.

Flying Virgin. Highly recommended. I’m notorious for always having a hard time on long-distance flights. Time passed on Virgin much quickly for some reason. Either it was the ace entertainment system or the value of a good traveling companion…

Godalming. 40 minutes south of London by train. Where Nasty’s family lives.

Great small town. High street deserted at noon. Sandwich shop closes at 3pm. Everything shuts down by 5:30pm. Lots of moms pushing prams. :)

And then we flew to Guernsey, off the coast of France, spent a night there and sailed back to Portsmouth on Troika, Nasty’s dad’s yacht.

Cool eh? We sailed the English Channel! Aaaahh…sailing…images of lying about on deck, reading a book, sipping a cocktail, wind blowing in your hair, looking out into the vast ocean and wondering what life is all about…

See, I have no pictures of the actual sailing in the middle of the ocean….not because I was enjoying myself so much….but because I spent 15 bloody hours horizontal thinking of things I am willing to give up if only I can stop the boat, the waves and the ocean and somehow teleport myself back to dry land.

I got hideously sunburnt lying on deck, trying to participate in the sailing as much as I can while remaining horizontal….in the end, I retreated down into bed, and remained there half-conscious until we finally docked.

Want to forget all your troubles? Go sailing. ;)

This is Oscar. One of the nasty cats. I spent an entire afternoon with Oscar, plodding through the house and garden because Nasty was passed out on a sofa after a cycle to the pub. But hey, Oscar was much more willing to model for this photographer-wannabe, so I was happy happy.

Two icons of London: Big Ben and the Underground.

I have to say, the Big Ben was a little bit disappointing. Over the years, I have somehow conjured up the image of a massive independent lone-standing clock tower in the middle of a large square (the clock tower in Tsim Sha Tsui in HK comes to mind…). I did not realize it’s just this tall bit attached to a much more massive and impressive building!

Ah….nice friendly advice from the authorities just inside the Underground. I feel so much safer now!

Camden, London.

Hippie town, Hippie town, come to Camden the Hippie Town.

Right. Just decided that Camden deserves some sort of a jingle….

Guernsey! That little island off the coast of France where we flew to. Where you can go see Dr. Beijing! Woohoo!

Interestingly, these so-called Chinese-medicine shops are all over the country, purporting to cure everything from sexual dysfunction to the great depression. No wonder the western world is skeptical. Fucking Chinese selling ourselves out. Have some dignity yo!

Brighton. On the English coast, where all the hippies, gays and vegans hang out. Where Nasty ogle at T-shirts and lament their prices. Where an old man came up to me at 9:30 am to ask me what time Vegetarian Shoes open.

Yes. Vegetarian Shoes. The tag line in the window says: A Treat For Your Feet If You Don’t Eat Meat!

Aha!

This is Soho, London.

For real.

Well, technically, this little green space is called Soho Square, and the surrounding area is called Soho, where all the hip and trendy things happen.

This comes as a surprise for me, since Hong Kong also has a hip and trendy area called Soho, but it’s NOTHING like this. Imagine a park in the middle of Soho HK. Yeah, I know.

And I always thought Soho stands for South of Hollywood? And then I realize Soho in London used to be hunting grounds and “So-ho” was once-upon-a-time a hunting call. Nothing to do with Hollywood.

And while writing this, I suddenly realize Soho HK is NOT named after Soho London, but is an area that is literally south of Hollywood Road, that just happens to be hip too. (People in HK, please don’t laugh.)

Ah. Nothing like traveling abroad to learn more about your own country. (!!!)

(And I’m now quite happy that we didn’t just copycat a place!)

Also, apparently Soho is a gay hangout. It’s supposed to be obvious, but I had absolutely no idea….until I looked carefully in that photo. Hmmm….

For the people of Hong Kong, this is home away from home. Eh heh heh…

Amazing eh? Found in Chinatown, London.

(For those of you unfortunate enough to not be from Hong Kong [oh how I pity you, you poor little thing], this is the name of a local chain restaurant not unlike the McDonald’s and KFCs everywhere else, except that someone decided to open a small little shop called McDonald’s where the real McDonald’s doesn’t exist.)

It always baffles me what people do after 5:30pm, when everything shuts down and the streets are deserted.

In HK, people pour out into the streets yo! (I don’t know why I’m yo-ing so much today…)

And then you walk by a pub. Aha!

And I end with this shot of the London Eye.

Relax.

Be strong.

And always keep your head up.

It’s a beautiful sky.

Day -3: Packing

I have travelled a lot.

But I still hate packing.

I never know how much is enough. And I always end up over packing.

I know will I overpack, and yet I still overpack.

When you go away for 2 weeks, do you bring 14 bras? 14 panties? 14 tops?

If I bring just 7 of each, that means I’ll have to wash my clothes.

Where will I dry them?

Will I be drying my most private gear in full view of whoever I’ll be staying with?

(Now I see the advantages of travelling alone.)

Someone said it’s going to be warm. Then someone told me to bring jackets and scarfs.

So what tops do I bring?

Some tops for hot weather? And some tops for cold weather?

What if it ends up being hot all the time?

Then I won’t have enough hot tops!

But what if it ends up being cold all the time?

Then I won’t have enough cold tops!

So maybe I should bring as many hot and cold tops as I can?

Sleeping…

I will need as much sleeping clothes as I will need waking clothes.

Then that means I’ll have double of clothes!

Then socks.

Do I bring an extra pair of shoes?

I mean, I can’t go hiking in my Converses right?

Should I bring my own towel?

Or not bring one to save space?

Or maybe I should save space by bringing less tops!

But what if we go somewhere fancy?

I will need a fancy top!

What if we go and play sports?

I will need a sports bra!

…………………………………

Everytime I pack, I start feeling like I’ve become Bridget Jones or that Shopaholic girl.

So you see why it takes me at least 4 hours to pack for anything?

heh.

Cheap bitches get the jobs.

I’ve been learning the hard way that, in the world of business, money does talk.

I’ve always been the sort of person who likes to believe that, ultimately, the right will be right, and the wrong will be punished.

Now, I realized, it doesn’t matter if you’re a bitch, or you suck at your job. As long as you’re cheaper than your competitors, you will still get business.

What happened to righteousness? What happened to sticking with the right, proper and nice, even if it means paying a bit more?

It’s the same concept as me trying to go to Circle K as much as I can instead of 7-11 coz the people at Circle K are much more nicer, polite, smiley, and friendly.

But in the world of business, it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t reply emails.

It doesn’t matter if our projects got delayed because you won’t reply emails.

It doesn’t matter if your reasons for not replying emails are that you’re busy going to seminars, you’re going to visit your son in the U.S. or you think we send too many emails (and we keep sending them because you won’t reply to them!).

It doesn’t matter if we try to schedule a teleconference with you and you can’t be bothered to reply.

It doesn’t matter if we decide to FLY over to see you in person coz you won’t reply and then you tell us not to come coz you’re busy.

It certainly does not matter when our project fail to take off, you blame us for not being able to supply the right documents and then send an email out to the whole world to say just that.

It also doesn’t matter that we’re paying you to service us.

I asked my boss, “Why don’t we just switch consultants? If we’re getting such bad service, why don’t we just use someone else?”

Like going to Circle-K instead of 7-11.

Solemnly, the boss said, “It’s not our decision. It’s Commercial’s decision. They pick providers not based on service, but based on cost.”

And so. Money talks.

And I have to deal with the consequences.

The Day After Tomorrow

No, the Earth will not freeze over. (Actually, we don’t know that.)

Nor will I be hunkering down under some blankets with Jake Gyllenhaal. (Ha! We don’t know that either!)

And no, no rugged men in snowsuits and backpacks are gonna trek hundreds of miles to come rescue me. (Hey, I wouldn’t mind!))

But I will be wrapping up work.

And I will probably be shopping for some last minute supplies and hopefully will be spending a few hours hunkering down at the Dublic Jack’s (an Irish pub!), waiting for midnight to come.

And at midnight, no, Cinderella won’t be dropping out of a pumpkin, and the wolves will not howl.

If the weather report is correct, it will be raining cats and dogs like it’s been doing for the past 3 weeks, and I’ll be standing at some random bus stop in the middle of nowhere, hopefully not soaking wet already.

(Actually, it’s not in the middle of nowhere. And actually, it’ll most likely be way past midnight. But humor me for now.)

And I would watch a certain someone with a backpack (no, no snowsuit) saunter down from a bus to give me a great big Nasty hug.

Hopefully not in this sort of rain!