They’re Everywhere

June 10, 2010 § 4 Comments

After a long & bountiful day of shopping, Kaiti and I settled onto a relatively empty subway train to go home. Soon after we got on, a mentally deranged Indian man listening to his mp3 player sat down one seat away from me and crossed his legs. I actually didn’t notice him until his toe touched my foot — the man had rather long limbs. I moved my foot away slightly, thinking it was an accident.

His foot moved closer and touched mine again.
My brain numbed.
“THIS MAN IS TRYING TO PLAY FOOTSIE WITH ME ON THE SUBWAY,” I whispered urgently to Kaiti out of the side of my mouth.

I turned so that he couldn’t reach my feet anymore and glanced at our reflections in the window on the opposite side. He was staring in our direction.  He then stretched his arm across the back of the seat so that his fingers brushed my shoulders.

I almost died.
Kaiti almost died too…of laughter.
She was convulsing with silent guffaws with her head turned away so that he couldn’t see, while I concentrated on not making any movements at all. But I cringed inside like a slug on a patch of salt.

DON’T LOOK AT HIM. JUST DON’T LOOK.

His arm retracted, but I could tell that he was still staring hard at us. I turned my head abruptly to glare at him, and he immediately looked away. I really wanted to give him a piece of my mind but couldn’t think of what to say. I turned back to stare out the dark window.

He started making noises to himself.
“Darling!” he yelled, among some other incomprehensible gibberish.
What the f…was he talking to us?

As I watched his reflection in the window, I also kept scanning the four young men sitting across from us. They apparently took no notice of the strange occurrences on this side of the train. If something dire happened, would they react?

The creep’s mp3 player got louder, and I could hear “Jai Ho” playing. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his fingers fiddling around in his lap, and I was honestly afraid that he would pull his wiener out and commit an act of public indecency. At the same time, Kaiti speculated that he would pull out a knife. I’m not sure which prospect would be more frightening, frankly.

Just as I was about to explode with tension, he got up and left [FINALLY]. After the subway doors closed, Kaiti and I collapsed into a squirming, squealing blob of indignation.
WHY DO THESE THINGS HAPPEN?! WHY!!!

Oh My Lobe

June 4, 2010 § 2 Comments

Ever since becoming a fan of SHINee, I’ve started liking stud earrings more than dangling ones [they wear them a lot]. Ever since coming to Hong Kong, I’ve started wearing stud earrings more than other kinds because the variety here is fantastic. And ever since I decided I wanted a third earlobe piercing, I’ve been buying stud earrings almost obsessively.

I literally could not stop looking at the things while shopping today with Rosaline. We went all the way out to the mall in Kwai Fong where she got her ears pierced two weeks ago; I wanted my new piercing as soon as possible. When Ros got her virgin ears done, she opted for needle instead of gun, which is rare and seems kind of outdated but apparently is healthier. Alice told me some horror stories of blood clots and infections, but I decided to go with gun because Ros said needle hurt like hell  [it was also more expensive & took longer].

We found the little tattoo & piercing parlor, which had big photos of strange body piercings on the exterior. Gulp … not a good first impression. I chose a little star stud, which cost all of $15HK [literally $2 US o___o]. While we waited for the lady to get ready [and finish her cigarette?], I peeked at the other side of the case and saw that none the ends of the studs were sharpened.

“How is that supposed to go through my ear?” I wondered.
“Maybe she’ll sharpen it?” Ros postulated.

Wrong.
[This seems to happen quite frequently.]

I sat down in the narrow space of the shop, and the process was over in less than two minutes. The gun snapped, shoving the rounded end of the stud into my earlobe. [WHY???]
This was definitely not the safe experience I had with my mom eight years ago in the brightly lit space of Limited Too, where my ears were pierced with needle-sharp studs and I might’ve gotten a lollipop afterward.

I winced with pain and blinked my eyes with shock for a few moments afterward. It didn’t just sting, as I had expected — it hurt. I felt my ear getting red and tried not to think about it. Being in a shopping center distracted me adequately, but I still needed to buy a watermelon boba to calm myself down and ice my flushed earlobe.

It’s over, but I still cringe a little every time I think about my poor ear being impaled with blunt metal. I don’t regret it, but I wouldn’t recommend it either. I also wonder if this has ever happened to anyone else I know :(

Welcome to the family?

Some earrings I got in mainland China to give away :)

SO CUTE!!! These haven't been claimed yet if you want them~

Family Time

May 24, 2010 § 1 Comment

This is my brain on zero sleep

At 9PM on Saturday, I received a text from Mr. Chen, my mom’s college classmate who is now a professor at Hong Kong University of Science and Technology. The text contained details about the next day’s boat trip, which apparently required me to meet his family in Lam Tin [a place I had never even heard of] at 830AM.

FML, I thought. I had forgotten about agreeing to this excursion and was planning to have another karaoke-all-night session with some friends. Thinking quickly, I calculated that since I’m already so accustomed to staying up all night, I could probably just skip sleep entirely and count on some Red Bull to get me through the next day.

So that’s exactly what I did.

I got home from karaoke at 630, brushed my teeth, munched some cereal and lay in bed without sleeping until leaving at 730 in the same clothing and makeup from the night before. I forgot my camera, mirror and mosquito ointment…not a good start to the day. It was also raining on and off.

I met Mr. Chen and his 9-year-old son Gilbert in the McDonald’s near their apartment complex. The boy was reading Detective Conan [MY FAVORITE ANIME, still popular after 16 years]. His daughter Grace came after a while, and it took me 40 minutes after meeting her to realize that she was the same age as my brother [she was too tall for 13, and my brain was clearly malfunctioning]. Mr. Chen mistook me for an 18-year-old, while his wife thought I was a masters student. It wasn’t as bad as some of the other people we were with, who thought I was 15 or 16 [both kids AND adults told me this]. Guess the makeup and height and boobs don’t do much…?

The Chen family and I arrived at the pier, and I realized that I was about to spend the day with a gaggle of gangling adolescent girls and their prepubescent brothers. Lovely. They were all gathered around one girl’s music player, and all I heard were the words “Kim Yuna” and “MBLAQ” to know I was in good company. Actually, I had to fight to keep from laughing. But how is a 20-year-old supposed to approach this situation? Hide my fervor or join their clan?

There were a bunch of TALL, good-looking guys 15 feet away…I belonged with them, not this handful of girls singing “NU ABO” to themselves. But the four of them had grown up together as classmates and friends, just like our Square. So blessed.

My sad life

Keeping my private Kpop monster in check was like the Hulk trying not to raise his blood pressure — the more they sang, the more sheer effort I had to put into restraining myself from breaking out in sing and dance. The feeling of finding real-life people who share this passion is rare enough to make my heart rate increase [sad isn’t it?]. They mostly like girl groups [ie. Secret and 2NE1], from what I could tell. “SNSD is kind of slutty,” I heard. Sigh. One day they’ll learn not to judge, right?

At 10AM I cracked open my Red Bull. I needed it. It took all my energy to keep from falling on my face as we wandered across a sandbar embedded with volcanic rocks. I got a fright from almost stepping on a dead fish; it was like being back at Neuqua.

Dead fish #2

For lunch, each table had a huge platter of shrimp, which I have recently learned to peel with my mouth. Very useful. I overdosed on them as a result of practicing this new skill. We also had these seafoody tofu pudding medallions, which were delightful:

Yum!

People ordered live sea urchins, which were halved and eaten with dainty spoons while the poor creatures were still moving. Can you imagine being cut in half and having your insides dug out while still breathing? Unbelievable:

Vodpod videos no longer available.

As we finished lunch, the girls danced to “Chu” on the side, playing from one of the three iTouches among the group. I remember when we had to provide our OWN music, aka sing Disney songs to ourselves from memory. Kids these days and their gadgets…they make me feel old [and look young?].

Next, our boat stopped by a ghost town of an island where the only notable artifacts were the abandoned church and salt fields. Devoid of most sentient life-forms, it was a bug-eat-bug world with humans occasionally being led in as sacrifices for the mosquitoes. [Why do parents drag their children to these places? Will I be like this in the future too?]

The girls got a hold of my phone [and therefore all my Korean music], and we ended up dancing to f(x) on the top deck of the boat on the way back to the pier. Grace insisted that I go to Megabox with her friends, which sounded like more karaoke to me but turned out to be a huge mall in the same area where I saw 4Minute earlier this semester [bad memories]. I was about to drop dead from exhaustion but agreed anyway.

We got a ride to the mall from one of the other girls’ parents in their Lexus SUV [which I know mostly as my mother’s dream car], and it was my first time riding in non-public transportation in five months. I really miss the little things like that.

I really liked Grace, and couldn’t have met a better playmate for the day; she was friendly, inviting and generous, traits that humbled and amazed me greatly coming from someone her age. She scored some extra cash from her dad, which meant that she paid for everything — my dinner, dessert and even a pair of earrings, as if she were the one older by seven years. I was really floored.

The five of us window shopped, took photobooth pictures and wandered around. Even though my eyes were literally burning from being awake for so long, I had a genuinely good time. It was like being 13 again! Except I don’t remember swearing and making sexual jokes quite so openly back then…kids these days :P

Hands In The Air

May 19, 2010 § 1 Comment

Because of finals week, my sleeping schedule has been completely out of whack. Yesterday I slept from 7AM-430PM, which is what my whole week has basically been. It sucks because the sun seems to rise and set earlier here than at home, which means less sunshine when I want it.

I also woke up yesterday with one double eyelid instead of zero. No amount of rubbing would make it go away, which put me at a loss for how to do my makeup.

Anyway, last night was my first time going clubbing on a Tuesday night — ladies’ night in Tsim Sha Tsui. We left an hour later than planned, which is not uncommon but especially inconvenient this time because this certain club [Zaza] is only free until 2AM. The line stretched down the block by the time we finally arrived, and we hung out for a while at the back before getting the courage to join the rest of our friends in the very front of the line.

It was hot & sweaty with people mashed up against each other and women lighting up right next to me. Tempers ran high when the bouncer finally let us all in after making us wait for 45 minutes AND having us all pay the $100HK entrance fee even though it wasn’t even 1AM.

Five minutes after we stepped into the club, the lights turned on. Word reached us that the police were coming. Seriously? We JUST paid to get in. Were they coming to check ID? I had stupidly forgotten mine. Everybody stood around chattering amongst themselves until the cops arrived and we were told to be quiet.

A table and chairs were set up in the middle of the dance floor for the officers, and one of them sat and looked through documents as the others walked around and inspected people. It felt like the longest 25 minutes ever. We had no idea what was happening, but nobody was detained. The whole thing was really weird, but after they left, the party started right up again.

To me, the clubbing experience seems to consist of dancing, drinking, looking for stray members of one’s party and waiting in line for the restroom [whether one needs to go or not], with lots of picture-taking in between. It’s a fun time, but I don’t see how people can do it day after day or even week after week. The routine gets monotonous.

I danced with one guy whom I deemed acceptable: good hair, good skin, good teeth, good body, good clothing, taller than me & seemed my age. Total stranger. And he didn’t really speak English. His name was Bert? Curt? Couldn’t hear. Toward the end of the song he tried to stick his tongue in my mouth — I don’t know if he was drunk or inexperienced, but I just wanted to dance and maybe feel him up. Two hours later we found each other again and had a round two, heh, but had to stop because my thighs & feet were screaming in agony. I kissed him on the cheek to let him know I was leaving, but he tried to slobber all over me again so I escaped to the bathroom with some other girls.

Other than that, I went crazy when the DJ [finally] played “Sorry Sorry,” my feet are still in pain as I write this at 7AM, I feel greasy but satisfied after another round of 3AM dim sum, and I’m going to miss the club scene here when I go home. Down at school, everyone drinks but no one dances. Lame! Anyway…time for bed.

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