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I’ve never heard of Advent calendars until about two days before December came along.
They are apparently calendars with little windows counting down each day of December until either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day (depending on the calendar you get), where you open one window a day to discover a little piece of chocolate.
There are cheapo ones, and there are kids’ ones with a toy for Christmas day, and there are posh ones with lush Belgian truffles inside.
I got mine from Marks & Spencer for £1.99 and I think it’s one of the most brilliant things ever.
The boxes for each day are not lined up in order. They are jumbled all over, each containing a really good quality chocolate piece in various Christmassy shapes.
It’s the excitment of waking up each day, wondering what you’re going to get. It’s the engaging but fun task of searching for the right day on the calendar. It’s having something small but fun to look forward to each day. It reminds you of what you are counting down towards and I think the combined experience of Christmas last year and the Advent calendar this year have made me more excited about Christmas than I have ever been.
I read somewhere once, that we shouldn’t berate those who say they hate Christmas, as the only reason they hate it is because they haven’t experienced a good Christmas yet. For me, I think that is true. I used to hate Christmas. It was never the cosy sitting-by-the-fireplace family-gather-round happy images that the TV so often portrays and has so many years led me to expect. But as much as I find Christmas pudding revolting and that pies with mincemeat does not actually contain minced meat very disappointing, I had a really good Christmas last year and I’m really looking forward to this day next week.
Just yesterday, I was thinking, wouldn’t it be nice to be always at one week to Christmas? It’s the excitement, it’s the winding down at work, it’s the holidays that follow, it’s the stampede to the pantry everytime someone annouces that there are cakes/biscuits/chocolates at the office…
If having an advent calendar for each month of the year is too much, I wonder if I can have one for each of the special holidays of the year – Chinese New Year, birthday (mine of course), Easter….and while we’re at it, we definitely should have one for summer. Now THAT would really be something to countdown to!
When I got my £60 second-hand bike, I was estatic.
I was going places I otherwise wouldn’t go to, I was getting to places a lot easier than I could.
But I thought I was very unfit as well.
Other riders whizzed past me on the roads while I struggled to accelerate after stopping at traffic lights.
I could barely make it up hills while others climb right past me.
I had to pedal twice as hard just to keep up with Nasty.
But I persevered, believing that I will one day be as fit as all those cyclists.
At the same time, I couldn’t help but check out other people’s bikes all the time. Theirs look so good, seem to work so well, so efficient.
Many a times, I thought, if only my bike would fall apart, then I would have an excuse to buy a new one!
Yes, be careful what you wish for.
Because the left pedal kept falling off, I started carrying a spanner with me and giving it a few turns every now and then.
Then the back wheel didn’t spin freely. It’s got a bulge in an area that rubs against the brake pads, slowing me down.
Then the bracket (the bit that attaches the pedals to the frame) wobbles.
The bike made strange noises and I was afraid that one day, while riding in traffic, my bike would buckle out from underneath me and I’ll get run over.
Then rolling down Parliament Hill one afternoon, my front wheel somehow got a big cut and both the tire and the inner tube (the tube inside that holds the air and expands the tire) were destroyed. I got a flat tire.
We weighed our options.
Walk it to the bike shop to get it fixed so I can ride home. (But there wasn’t a bike shop anywhere near, and the cost of fixing it all will definitely cost more than what I paid for the bike itself.)
Walk it home and think about it. (Will take a million years. And why do it if I won’t get it fixed anyways?)
Dump it and take the Tube home.
This is what I did:
I wasn’t sad to ditch it. In fact, I was glad I had it because it opened up so many doors for me. It led me to explore more, and realise all that cycling has to offer here.
I was more sheepish to admit I had to ditch it because I was so excited about it at first, I literally told EVERYONE about it…..and look how it’s ended up now. It’s like when you were a kid and brought something amazing in for show and tell, only for it to fall apart not long after. :(
But what the fuck right? I would’ve never bought a more expensive bike, because I didn’t see the point, and I didn’t know if I’d actually enjoy it. Looking back, it was a good start. It had to start that way.
I spent the next 2 weeks bike-searching, visiting numerous bike shops and on Friday, I parted with £300 for this:
This must be one of the most amazing, and expensive things I’ve ever paid for.
All of a sudden, I’m not unfit anymore.
I whizz past cars, buses and cabs. I could accelerate as fast as any other cyclist, and I could climb hills better than some others on the roads.
I was not unfit! The bloody bike was!
It’s super lightweight, it’s very easy to handle and maneuver, and it gives me so much more confidence on the roads.
At least now, instead of worrying about the bike collapsing from underneath me, I can worry more about my skills and the traffic!
I can now ride further, faster and easier, although I’m still building up my confidence riding in traffic.
The first few rides with Nasty helped immensely, because with him leading the way, I didn’t have to worry about navigation, whether I’m going the right way, when I should stop, etc. All I had to worry about was staying alive and not getting run over!
Having had a confidence boost riding with Nasty, I then set out on my own, riding all the way from Chinatown to Victoria Park. I am now more aware that I probably will not get run over, and so can focus on looking at street signs and trying to work out where I’m going.
Having paid £300 (and more due to cost of locks, lights and yet-to-be-bought helmet), my target is to keep my Oyster card (the local pay-as-you-go transportation card) usage to a minimum, and use my bike for what it’s worth!
Over the weekend, I moved flats again.
I now have a big-arse room double the size of what I had before, a nice wooden floor and a big double bed!
What it lacks is a desk. And here’s what happened:
There is a set of drawers in the room and Nasty converted it to a desk for me by pulling out the bottom 3 drawers so I have somewhere to put my feet, and putting one of the drawers behind to enlarge the area of my desk.
One of the pulled out drawers is now next to the desk as a “shelve”.
Cool eh? When I grow old and have grandchildren, I’ll be able to tell them about the time when grandma was poor and struggling in London and had this special desk that helped her through the times…
Yeah, you know, kids take nostalgic bullshit like that.
…is yooooou.
No, not you.
I’m talking to the Slanket.
I’m always cold.
In the winter, I slunk around the house in layers, and lounge in front of the tele buried beneath a blanket.
Which is inconvenient if I’m trying to hold a drink, read a book, reach for the remote, pet my cat, or basically do anything without having to relunctantly dig my arms out from underneath the warmth.
Enter the Slanket: the blanket with sleeves.
A giant fleece blanket with oversized sleeves!
I feel all cozy already just thinking about it. I bet I can hang around in them all day…can I go out in them?
(I mean, OF COURSE, this is by no means a hint whatsoever.) *Ahem*.
I meant to put these up more than 3 weeks ago, but I never got round to dealing with my camera and computer and resizing the photos etc etc.
Anyways. Remember how I won a prize on kimandjason.com?
Being me, I forgot about it as fast as I’d won it. Until one night, mom told me that there’s a notice from the post office asking me to go pick up a parcel.
I had my doubts, really. These days, all you get in the mail are bills and crap telling you to borrow money. We hardly ever get anything nice in the mail anymore.
So imagine my ecstatic-ness when the postman handed me this!!!:
Come to think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever received a parcel in the mail before!
I was so surprised, it felt like I’d just won AGAIN! It’s like winning TWICE!
I hesitated in opening it, because I felt like preserving the surprise. I wanted to keep that feeling of happy anticipation for as long as I could.
Gingerly, I cut around the box and sprang the tape open:
And you know what? The best thing about this gift is not the exact single item that I won.
I knew I was getting an old-fashioned aeroplane kit (which is great in itself), but it was the other tidbits of surprises that made my day. :)
First there is one of these things, which I don’t know what they’re supposed to be called. But, in HK, we call them “twisty eggs”: put $5 in the machine and you get a surprise!
It’s funny how, like the twisty-egg machines we have all over town, it’s never really about what’s inside or what you actually get when you open the egg. It’s always about putting that coin in, twisting the knob-handle-thing (?!?!), hearing the click, watching as the egg tumbles down, picking it up and shaking it, guessing what’s inside. It never really matters what you get, it’s the anticipation, the excitement, and the surprise!
Huh? Is it my birthday? And if it is, how do they know it’s my birthday?!
(By the way, when I grit my teeth and managed to open the egg, those things inside flew ALL OVER and I was on hands and knees trying to gather up every bit to put back inside for this photo. Now THAT’S dedication!)
Aha! I think that is awesome. People nowadays are too modest and “grown-up” to tell everyone it’s their birthday. You know how, as kids, we’d run around announcing to anyone who would (be unfortunate enough to) be nearby that “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TOMORROW! IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TOMORROW!!”? We don’t do that anymore. We act all grown-up and modest and look-at-me-I’m-all-professional-so-I-don’t-care-about-birthdays while deep inside, we wish someone would give us a surprise birthday party. *hint hint* ;)
So yes, why not tell the whole world it’s your birthday and celebrate?!
A sticker! Yay! (I feel like sticking it onto my [mostly] stuck-up dad’s forehead…)
I think this, by far, is one of the best bits. Nothing fancy. Nothing expensive. But hell, if someone gives me a big roll of these things, I’m gonna wrap myself in it and roll down twenty flights of stairs.
Hmmm…thinking about it, I think I saw some lying around the office somewhere….
So far, I’ve exerted superb self-control in not popping even one bubble. Yet.
And of course, there is the aeroplane kit itself. It looks so much better than those really cheap ones I used to get from the shops across the road. Man, if I had this as a kid?! My brother would’ve fought me for it!! (That’s why he still doesn’t know of this extraordinary package. Shhhhh…)
Nothing beats knowing that you’re a winner! And a personal hand-written note too!
I spent many a nights wondering who wrote it…hmmm
And this, THIS made me feel like I was winning for the THIRD time! Why?
I’d examined every little detail of every single thing in the box, and was feeling a bit bummed knowing that the excitement is over.
So I was emptying everything out, fiddling around with the box and so on, when this bright yellow packet slid out from under some flaps at the bottom of the box! Aha! One more surprise! I felt like I’d just won AGAIN! (Yes, afterwards, I took care to check under and over every single flap in the box. Hey, you never know!)
And the fact that this last hidden surprise is Kool-Aid beats everything else! Nothing could probably remind me more of my childhood in Canada than this. I spent 3 years in grade school in Toronto, and Kool-Aid was a big part of it. It was EVERYWHERE. I remember that there were various uses of Kool-Aid (besides from drinking), and one of the stories was that you can dye your hair with blue Kool-Aid. (I wanted to try. But my hair is too dark. Hmpf.)
Ever since leaving that place 18 years ago, I never saw Kool-Aid again.
I suppose I could’ve found it easily on my work trips to Canada and the US years later, but it just never crossed my mind. I’d forgotten that Kool-Aid existed. Until this day.
That little innocent little packet brought back scores of memories…
So see how I said that it’s always the little things? :)
It’s been almost a month since I got this parcel, but I still keep every little bit of it nicely placed inside the box, unopened, unused, as if the surprises are too precious and I certainly can’t bring myself to open the pack of Kool-Aid, or pop the bubbles.
But as I write this, I realize, hey, this totally is NOT the spirit of the Kim and Jason website is it?! It’s all about having fun, letting yourself go, ripping open presents and being not so friggin’ prissy about keeping every little thing in perfect condition, right?
I have a long weekend coming up, Monday being the Mid-Autumn Festival in Hong Kong, and you bet I’m gonna absolutely abuse my prize!! ;)
(Ok, so maybe not all at once ok?! I must be allowed a bit of my neurotic tendencies right?!)
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