You are currently browsing the monthly archive for December 2008.
When every day seems the same,
it is because we have stopped noticing
the good things that appear in our lives.
- The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
Clicking through photos on Facebook, I see house parties in tiny Hong Kong flats; I see Christmases at Hong Kong Disneyland.
I remember the generic conformity of the way many people dress in HK. I remember the skinny nerdy boys I saw too much of.
If anything, Facebook made me realize how thankful I am being able to be here, and not in Hong Kong, and how special everything has been so far.
Once away from a place, especially home, you forget all that you hated about it. Nostalgia sets in, and it suddenly becomes the best place on Earth.
I am writing this on a very comfy chair, right next to the Christmas tree, in front of a real burning fireplace. Really, I never imagined this would happen, and I couldn’t ask for anything better.
What do people do on the last day of the year?
Reflect on the year past?
So much has happened and so much has changed.
Resolutions for the new year?
Seeing what has happened in 2008, any resolutions I once had have all been thrown out the window.
I’m here, and I’m glad I’m here.
Happy New Year.
What better thing to do after a Christmas lunch than to bounce around and churn your stomach about and hope that the lunch wouldn’t come back out from your mouth?!
I’m not sure I’ve ever jumped on a trampoline before…
Oh wait, I remember being in one of those kiddie bouncy castles…so maybe this counts as my first time on a real trampoline?
It took skill to avoid landing on that big splatter of bird poop in the middle of the tarp…
So Christmas has come and gone, and I’ve just discovered that my laptop has a memory card slot that I can just slip my camera’s card into to transfer photos! Woohoo!
In other words: What an idiot!
Here are some photos of Christmas Eve with Nasty’s hometown gang at a local pub in Godalming.
This, which we believe is a Great Dane, is a resident of the pub.
When stood up on its hind legs, she’s probably taller than I am.
No, this is not a plug for Samsung.
But being me, I thought this was one of the funniest things I’ve seen recently: A sticker of a pope on a phone!
The contrast between modern technology and the strict religious beliefs that the Pope upholds; the Pope in a pub!; the Pope on the phone of a person that does not believe; the Pope on Christmas Eve, a night where apparently everyone comes out to party.
I later found out that the sticker originates from the guy in the background right above the phone, who’s a teacher of religious studies in London, and he actuallys gives out these stickers to his students when they’ve been good!
I find that an absolute hoot and he says he’s gonna get me one the next time I see him in London.
Woohoo! I’m getting a Pope sticker!
(Remember, this is the season to rejoice in the smallest things!)
Nasty asked me the other day, what was my best Christmas ever.
I said I don’t have one that I like best.
He then asked, well, what did you do for Christmas last year?
I said I don’t remember.
And it’s true.
What I didn’t tell him
was that I’ve always hated the holiday season, because really, I didn’t want to be Scrooge.
But I’ve always hated it, because I’ve always had these expectations for Christmas, and it had never turned out the way I’ve always envisioned it to be.
To be fair, it’s not a big thing in my family, and through the years, it’s mostly to do with crowded streets, stupid count-downs, and department store shopping.
I’ve always thought of:
A family gathering round. A warm fire place.
A big Christmas tree.
Stockings full of little goodies. Presents under the tree.
Friendly fun family banter.
Lots of smiles and laughter.
And you know what?
I was sitting there with Nasty’s family, next to their Christmas tree,
in front of their fire place,
and opening presents with them.
I never expected to get much presents at all, so it was like an added bonus.
They’ve basically given me what I’ve always thought Christmas should be.
And they’re an absolutely fun and hilarious bunch.
Christmas’ just started,
but from the bottom of my heart,
to the Nasty family:
Thank you for giving me my best Christmas ever.
First of all, we are not allowed to take photos inside this museum of modern art. But I managed to steal two photos of some of the few things there that I liked.
Yes, I say few things, because, let’s face it, a frame of a single slash-cut through a blank canvas? A frame of a few pieces of torn painted paper dropped and glued onto a white background because the artist wanted to “incorporate elements of chance” into his work? An entire canvas painted in fiery red?
Nasty and I cocked our heads and wondered what it would take for us to slash our canvases with a switch-blade and make it into a museum like this. I am 100% sure that if I paint a canvas totally red and declare it an expression of my monthly PMS, no one would give a shit. But if an established artist do it, everyone goes ooh and aah.
So, tell me. How do you get to that point?
I’m not sure why no photos were taken of the building from the outside. The Tate is actually a converted old power station and, to be honest, I find the structure totally unremarkable.
Maybe that’s why.
Ok, so I haven’t given a very good impression of the museum at all huh? But hey, I still think it’s worth a visit, just to see what all the fuss is about. Mind you, there are a few good pieces in there, like a Picasso or two.
Also do trek up to the bar/restaurant on the top floor: drinks aren’t expensive at all for a place like this, and great views over the Thames. Here we are looking at St. Paul’s Cathedral, with the Millenium Bridge spanning the river below us.
And this?
This is a piece I call: Jeans at the Tate.
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