things are pretty complicated, but also not at the same time. it is a constant routine.
usually I wake up and eat a banana, then some yogurt, then some cereal and watch the ABC Evening News at 730 every morning. I guess it makes sense with time changes and all, but still it's funny to see Charles Gibson say good evening whilst I am munching on Cheerios.
Then I get on the lift and go out to catch a taxi to Sun Ho Tin Day, mmm ho zhaup (that's where I work to the taxi driver). Did I tell you I am learning Cantonese? I can count to ten, tell you to fuck your mother, ask you what you want to eat, give directions and tell you something died in your mouth. Also to remember how to say toilet, imagine two outhouses balanced precariously on a see-saw - tze tzaw. Things you never knew you were going to know.
Next up is a visit from pookie butt brendan, coming all the way from Seoul. we're going to get tattoos - free-hand Hong Kong tattoos and go camping on the beach.
I'm going to take you to a special place that nobody knows.
so yeah. Gung hei fat choi. So there are all these crazy rules for how you're supposed to hand out lai see. It has to be a red pocket, it has to be brand new money and it has to be an even denomination. Then there are the rules for who you are supposed to hand it out to. Obviously I didn't get the handbook, but any holiday where I can hand out envelopes stuffed with crisp shiny cash is fine with me.
I had fun, but one of my assistants stopped me during lunch and asked why my pocket was so funny. It felt odd. I told her that she should be careful, I had filled it with tiny little sparrows that would fly out when she opened it. Either that or gunpowder.
little did I know you're only supposed to put one bill in the envelope. I shoved it full.
didn't matter, I hung out in my new hometown... Macau. Wandered around looking at furniture, eating dim sum, peanut candies and fresh portuguese egg tarts. Then we took the whole crew down to the other side of the island - Coloane, where we had an amazing little dinner in a tiny portuguese restaurant.
The Police were amazing, but ninety five percent of the people at the Venetian could have cared less. Gamblers.
going apartment hunting on Tuesday. going to have to start all over.
there is a new surprise everyday. it is also so cold that I can't feel my hands. wet and cold. things could change very quickly. my so called charmed life could take a drastically different direction.
I went to see 27 Dresses last weekend. I don't know what it says about me that in order for me to feel anything I have to watch other people's fake lives. I'm too even keeled, nothing rattles me, so the only way to let it out is to watch stupid rom coms and Oprah.
we used to think we had it all. it all used to be so easy.
clothes dirty, walk down one flight of stairs, through the bathroom, then down another, fold your neighbors underwear, put a load in. walk back upstairs. sit in the window, listen to your music, stare at power lines.
walk outside, nod at the man parking his Bentley across the street, walk up to the corner store and buy a chocolate bar and a cup of Tully's.
it's not simple to eat a pigeon. you have to wear gloves. you have to get brutal. you have to rip the head off and find the good stuff. you have to dip it in pepper. also crab brains. it's a pick your own adventure, except with live food things, I will pass on the live water eel trying to escape their tank. thanks.
just when I was getting really comfortable with my life, you go and do this. you just suck.
in other words tomorrow is my last day of being a twenty. I will be working. working out. and reading this book my mom sent me, The Dangerous Book for Boys, truly amazing. so in love. i'm going to build a diorama of the Alamo.
i think I'll pour myself a scotch tomorrow night. it feels like it deserves a ceremony.