Advice for my daughter

- Wear sunscreen (Long term benefits have long been proved by scientists)

- Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth.

- You will never understand the power and the beauty of your youth until they've faded.
But in about twenty years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way that you
can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
You are not as fat as you imagine.

- Don't worry about the future or worry that know worrying is as affective as trying to solve
algebra by chewing bubble gum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind.
The kind that blindsides you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

- Do one thing every day that scares you.

- Sing

- Don't be reckless with other peoples' hearts.
- Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours

- Floss

- Don't waste your time on jealousy.

- Sometimes you're ahead. Sometimes you're behind
The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.

- Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults.

- Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements

- Stretch

- Don't feel guilty if you don't know what to do with your life.
The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives.
Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't know

- Get plenty of calcium

- Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

- Maybe you marry, maybe you won't.
Maybe you have children, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th anniversary

- Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either.
Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's.

- Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can.
Don't be afraid of it or what other people think of it.
It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

- Dance. Even if you have nowhere to do it but your own living room.

- Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

- Do not read beauty magazines they will only make you feel ugly.

- Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.

- Be nice to your siblings, they are your best link to your past.
And the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

- Understand that friends come and go. But a precious few who should hold on.

- Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle.
For as the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young

- Live in the city once, but leave before it makes you hard.
Live in the country once, but leave before it makes you soft.

- Travel

- Accept inalienable truths
Prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old.
And when you do, you'll fanaticise that when you were young, prices were reasonable,
politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

- Respect your elders.

- Don't expect anyone else to support you.
Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse
But you never know when either one will run out.

- Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're forty, it will look eighty-five

- Be careful whose advise you buy, but be patient with those who supply it

- Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way wishing the past from the disposal, wiping it
off , painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

(Thanks to Desiderata 1927 for teaching me these values)

Wuut?

Sorry, no updates for a while.

I guess they call it.. Hiatus!

I call it.. being a mom.

See you guys later.

Another day @ my office

8:00 : Coffee and a bagel. And translation of Korean medicals.
After reviewing the first page of the medical, I realize this medical is rather perplex.
Without going into any specific and rather nasty details, let's just say that a young girl
ended up between two cars..
Girl has been admitted for seven months and counting, so go figure the amount of
medicals that we have and are in need of reviewing so that we may extend our cover
a little and save the poor girl's life. I end up discarding the bagel, no more appetite.
Who could've known that the word comatose and intracranial bleeding are so simple?

11:00 : Diet coke and edamame. Hong Kong Gossip
Working ages on finding evidence of an illegal organ transplant which will cost us a great
deal less we find some hard evidence we can hammer in the face of the surgeon. Kind of
difficult, when the surgeon seems eternally out of office.
Calling up my colleagues in our Hong Kong office. We end up chatting more about
Michael Wen's scandalous night out with the boss' secretary than the legal issues of
prosecuting a very well-renowned surgeon.
I end up transferring our conference to the local authorities. Now it's time to pretend to
be better familiar with organ transplants than the surgeons itself, talking to the Head
Director of the Medical Association and Affairs in HK. He is convinced, however.
Talked to a hospital where supposedly we had our insured admitted. They confirm that
the surgeon works there but that he did not perform transplant surgery.
He is chief surgeon there. That sucks. He is going to be tough to bring down. And I am
not going to go all the way to Hong Kong to prove that is in the wrong and should be
prosecuted for dealing with illegal organ trades.
Too bad I have his signed fraudulant medicals lying right here on my desk...

12:15 : Carrots and a water. Male bonding...
Male colleague from the Travel Claims department, approximately 45-50 years old
walks into my office and I get the impression he wishes to see me for a specific case that
was handed over to my Recovery & Fraud project. But no..
I watch as he fiddles nervously with the cup of coffee in his hands and he manages to
ask another colleague to close the door so that we may have some privacy.
He starts complaining about his work load and that he feels offended, being asked to
deal with specific types of cases, wanting to know if it is by coincidence of if I am aware..
Aware of what?
Apparently, he has a hard time distinguishing his private life from the type of claims he
works with in here. He has always told himself that he should always keep work and sex
separated.
You see, he explained, he has a fetish with women wearing casts/plaster and he finds it
extremely hard to focus on doing his job when dealing with such claims here when he is
sexually aroused at the same time.
I had a meeting subsequently with his supervisor and asked him to keep an eye out for
my poor colleague in his 'extreme conditions'.

13:30 : Ice latté and a phone conference. The US Law
Apparently, it is very difficult to throw a man in jail in the US. You wouldn't believe so,
right? Me neither. But just a phone call won't cut it.
The procedures are insane as we would be crossing borders and the papers that need to
be administered, translated and whatnot in order for us to put just one guy in prison is
a lot of pain.
In short, the guy has faked bills for more than USD 200,000 and used several known
clinics and facilities, which makes the charges even heavier.
Now here is the paradox - We must notify the man before pressing charges, that we will
press charges, and are familiar with his fraud. Imagine what happens if a man is told
that he will be sued for fraud of that caliber? He will run!
As we simply cannot send the police chasing until we have told him that we know he's
committing fraud, we are trying to find several loopholes but the Florida State Law
seemingly won't let that happen.
After an hour on the phone with one of our plaintiffs, he is more exhausted than I am
just listening to the intensity of fraud this man has comitted. He is sure that it will hit
the news - this guy is a pro tennis player after all.
We still haven't found a loophole, so our plan is simply to wait for him to call my office
again and I will let him know that his latest claim is being investigated by the authorities
and see how many seconds it takes for him to hang up.
Once he has hung up, I will have to call the police department immediately in Florida in
his area and send out an arrest form, filed and signed by our attorneys.
Hopefuly he won't flee the country.. Then it is going to be nasty.

15:00 : No carrots and no coffee. Clinical Trials
We are being sued for denying cover of a chemical only administered in trials.
So I went to court with two of our doctors who would back up any medical issues and I
would wisely announce our policy conditions and the legality behind them.
We won.


:55 : Chocholate milk and a banana.
Received phone call from plaintiff in Florida. No problem with our case.
In fact, we have to report the fraud to Attorney's General Office or they
will sue us, for not sueing the guy. What a strange world. I sign out of my
phone, no more time for phone calls.

17:10 : Chocolate candies and soda.
Visited our Emergency Department with the taskforce team, wanting to update their
procedures for faster and better service. Difficult when I am not so familiar with their
schedules. I fake many smiles and eat a lot of candy while listening to an intensely boring
associate explain the office etiquettes.
I grab my bag and enter the conference room where I can powernap in front of the tv.
They have insanely comfy sofas over there and I think I should try and have one trans-
fered to my office so I can sleep when I get tired of hearing the word 'fraud'.

18:30 : Panda Eyes
Time to go home. After I finish the Korean medical...

Unfortunate timing..

I had a small incident at work.

In my defense, I thought I was the only person in the building at the time as it was past 8pm on a Friday evening.

There is a small hallway which leads to two different bathrooms. To get there, you have to turn down a hallway and open up a door to the hall of bathrooms. So in short, a very secluded area.

In the hallway, one of the bathrooms is rather large and very bright as it contains a very large shaded window.

Then, there is a rather small closet-like bathroom, which I prefer to use because it's small and convenient.

Now, the small bathroom also has a funny defect that entertains me every time I visit the place, taking my mind off the sad and macabre medical journals and/or lawsuits I am dealing with on a daily basis.

The light in the bathroom is lazy and will come on in flashes the first 10 seconds after pressing the switch, instead of just turning on abruptly.

This is the flaw that I love about the bathroom. Whenever I go to that bathroom, I quickly shut the door and stand in the dark bathroom before pressing the switch and then - I dance.

For ten seconds, that bathroom is mine and that bathroom turns into an epileptic-inducing illuminated dance floor.

I know it's crazy, but I always throw a jig in the flickering lights for the lasting ten seconds before I go and do my business.

But you know, because I was there alone, I didn't bother closing the door.

Our building has an automatic switch that turns off all the lights after 6pm when the entire office is closed, so the hallway was desolate and dark anyway.

I fumbled my way through the hallway and reached my little bathroom and immediately hit the switch and started doing poses in front of the large mirror until, in my horror, I realized that someone was already in that bathroom, someone who was also not bothered by the lack of lights and was staring blankly at me in the mirror.

Needless to say, my male colleague was insanely humored by my little performance and he has been bothering me on the internal communicator ever since..

TEN THINGS

Ten Things I Know I Did Last Summer :

- Travelled -

I went to Geneva in Switzerland with a former friend of mine. The entire purpose of the trip was to see the LHC and the orgasmic event of a mini big-bang in the suburbs of Geneva where only scientists from all divisions of the world seemed to live.

It was truly an amazing scientific site and I hope that the recent collision of particles will result in new scientific breakthroughs. Maybe we will finally explain the many wonders of the universe? Or maybe questions like, "Do scientists actually get girlfriends?" "Why do scientists have to look like geeks?", "Do glasses, oversized shirts and large front teeth promote scientifical thought?" "Is Star Trek really plausible?"

Science

- Cried -

I cried at some point. I am not sure I can pin-point an event that caused me to lose myself to the salty gushes of my feministic and therefore often-lubricated tear ducts, but I am sure I have suffered at some point.

The past couple of years I have grown from a stubborn, cynical teenager to a wimpy, blonde woman who can cry even when Disney tells her not to. And I am not sure which I prefer.

Wouldn't this make you cry?

- Loved -

Yes, yes. I was dating and loving each and everyone - to the extent of physical pleasures. Maybe it wasn't quite Summer but actually crossing over into Autumn when I last had a lover for more than the 20 minutes it requires me to marry, breed and live for an eternity with in my fairy-tale thoughtful mind. He was Chinese and he didn't last long. Too rude, crude and so totally not type. But I guess even the best of us can get desperate enough. Actually when I think of our relationship, it was like a good serving of traditional noodle soup. The kind that lures you in with a sweet scent and a clear broth and when you taste the soup it is simply too delicious, but then when you go for the noodle, it's been in the broth for too long and ends up soggy.

The way to a woman's heart is definitely the noodle..

- Hated -

Jet. Li.

Actually I didn't just hate him last year, as I have hated him for a very long time. However it wasn't until last year when I realized how much my hate for him has grown.

I don't even know where to begin. Oh yeah. How about his name? JET. LI.

Actually his real name is Li Lianjie. As he is NOT Cantonese, why would he go and change his name to something that other, non-chinese speakers can pronounce like Uncle Jackie did?

He won several medals participating in the ridiculous arts of 'Wushu'. No, not the mini dragon from Disney's Mulan, but a collaboration of several martial arts moves and styles, that are mostly used for shows. SHOW-OFF.

He withdrew from this 'sport' at the age of 17. So tell me, Hollywood, why is he still cool? He has not won a single medal ever since!

Also, he married two different women and had 2 kids with each.

He was rumored to have been killed during the tsunami in the Maldives after an earthquake in 2006 - but you know, he only injured his foot.

He is not good-looking. And, he is not that good at martial arts. He does not perform all his stunts himself like a professional such as Jackie Chan. He uses stands-ins and stunt performers and is also known for a ludacris amount of camera and CGI editing to make him look cooler.

I only have one word left for him now:

Poser.

Lethal shaolin-munk and kung fu master at work!

- Dreamed -

I remember dreaming that the world ended. Cataclysmic death.

I was running through a building that was collapsing fast and ended up on the outside of it, clinging for my dear life to the edge of it as I watched the sky crack and sparkle in an atomic explosion out of proportion.

I am not quite sure why I had a dream like that. But I happen to often dream of the world ending, it has just never ended as violent as this one dream. And I guess this is why I remember it so vividly.

I can still smell the sulphur.

Inside a little blonde girl's mind. When it's asleep.

- Ate -

I must link my odd food experience with the previous 'travel' entry as I discovered that the Swiss cheese fondue is indeed a delicious treat, if you are fond of voluptuous amounts of cheese that ends up being so well-cooked it can hardly make its way through your esophagus and to your stomach due to its sticky, glue-like texture.

It tastes really good, the first three bites, but then I would rather use it to plaster up a house if it wasn't for the odd smell it would more than likely cause.

All swiss people must have arteriosclerosis waiting to happen!

- Spontaneous -

Bangs. I went to the hairdresser and made her give me bangs. I was inspired by the Taiwan drama 'Miss No Good' where Rainie Yang is a very ill-mannered girl from the suburbs with a horrible sense of fashion and she accidentally bumps into a popular stylist who helps her change her looks to win over a very rich boy. Lots of melodrama and a lot of different hairstyles on Rainie Yang. She looks really good with bangs. I do not.

Eri's fashion icon, Summer 2009

- Ridiculous -

It's funny how many things that seem logical at the very moment it occurs to you, can end up being severely ridiculous at a later moment when you reflect upon it.

I remember I wanted to experiment with a more 'slimming look' and therefore applied a thick leather belt around my waist. It looked great. But as I wandered around at work for hours without being able to neither breathe nor eat properly as my lower quadrants of my chest were non-expandable, I ended up with two bent ribs.

- Regret -

I regret losing one of my best friends ever. Our relationship was a roller-coaster built to crash. He was really a guy I liked as we spent 90% of our time laughing and making a mess of everything. It was hilarious. However, as often happens with boys hanging around me, he ended up falling in love with me.

Now I am not a girl to turn down pity-fucks, but I go to the extreme in pity and end up agreeing to date them. Naturally it didn't turn out well as I never wanted to stay over, had to suppress my gag reflex when kissing him and worst of all, had to constantly lie. The break-up was pretty nasty as he was very emotional and now I don't even talk to him.

Goodbye my best friend

- Wished -

I made a wish and it pretty much ended up coming true. Now any of you can take a guess at what I wished for..

Hiroshi and I

Yeah that's not what I was looking for at all..

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 9.15am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Poster

Hi
I opened the screen door yesterday and my cat got out and has been missing since then so I was wondering if you are not to busy you could make a poster for me. It has to be A4 and I will photocopy it and put it around my suburb this afternoon.

This is the only photo of her I have she answers to the name Missy and is black and white and about 8 months old. missing on Harper street and my phone number.
Thanks Shan.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 9.26am
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Poster

Dear Shannon,

That is shocking news. Luckily I was sitting down when I read your email and not half way up a ladder or tree. How are you holding up? I am surprised you managed to attend work at all what with thinking about Missy out there cold, frightened and alone... possibly lying on the side of the road, her back legs squashed by a vehicle, calling out "Shannon, where are you?"

Although I have two clients expecting completed work this afternoon, I will, of course, drop everything and do whatever it takes to facilitate the speedy return of Missy.

Regards, David.

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 9.37am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Poster

yeah ok thanks. I know you dont like cats but I am really worried about mine. I have to leave at 1pm today.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.17am
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Poster

Dear Shannon,

I never said I don't like cats. Once, having been invited to a party, I went clothes shopping beforehand and bought a pair of expensive G-Star boots. They were two sizes too small but I wanted them so badly I figured I could just wear them without socks and cut my toenails very short. As the party was only a few blocks from my place, I decided to walk. After the first block, I lost all feeling in my feet. Arriving at the party, I stumbled into a guy named Steven, spilling Malibu & coke onto his white Wham 'Choose Life' t-shirt, and he punched me. An hour or so after the incident, Steven sat down in a chair already occupied by a cat. The surprised cat clawed and snarled causing Steven to leap out of the chair, slip on a rug and strike his forehead onto the corner of a speaker; resulting in a two inch open gash. In its shock, the cat also defecated, leaving Steven with a wet brown stain down the back of his beige cargo pants. I liked that cat.

Attached poster as requested.

Regards, David.

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.24am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster

yeah thats not what I was looking for at all. it looks like a movie and how come the photo of Missy is so small?

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.28am
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster

Dear Shannon,

It's a design thing. The cat is lost in the negative space.

Regards, David.

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.33am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster

Thats just stupid. Can you do it properly please? I am extremely emotional over this and was up all night in tears. you seem to think it is funny. Can you make the photo bigger please and fix the text and do it in colour please. Thanks.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.46am
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster

Dear Shannon,

Having worked with designers for a few years now, I would have assumed you understood, despite our vague suggestions otherwise, we do not welcome constructive criticism. I don't come downstairs and tell you how to send text messages, log onto Facebook and look out of the window. I am willing to overlook this faux pas due to you no doubt being preoccupied with thoughts of Missy attempting to make her way home across busy intersections or being trapped in a drain as it slowly fills with water. I spent three days down a well once but that was just for fun.

I have amended and attached the poster as per your instructions.

Regards, David.

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.59am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster

This is worse than the other one. can you make it so it shows the whole photo of Missy and delete the stupid text that says missing missy off it? I just want it to say lost.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.14am
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster

'

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.21am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster

yeah can you do the poster or not? I just want a photo and the word lost and the telephone number and when and where she was lost and her name. Not like a movie poster or anything stupid. I have to leave early today. If it was your cat I would help you. Thanks.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.32am
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Awww

Dear Shannon,

I don't have a cat. I once agreed to look after a friend's cat for a week but after he dropped it off at my apartment and explained the concept of kitty litter, I kept the cat in a closed cardboard box in the shed and forgot about it. If I wanted to feed something and clean faeces, I wouldn't have put my mother in that home after her stroke. A week later, when my friend came to collect his cat, I pretended that I was not home and mailed the box to him. Apparently I failed to put enough stamps on the package and he had to collect it from the post office and pay eighteen dollars. He still goes on about that sometimes, people need to learn to let go.

I have attached the amended version of your poster as per your detailed instructions.

Regards, David.

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.47am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Awww

Thats not my cat. where did you get that picture from? That cat is orange. I gave you a photo of my cat.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.58am
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Re: Awww

I know, but that one is cute. As Missy has quite possibly met any one of several violent ends, it is possible you might get a better cat out of this. If anybody calls and says "I haven't seen your orange cat but I did find a black and white one with its hind legs run over by a car, do you want it?" you can politely decline and save yourself a costly veterinarian bill.

I knew someone who had a basset hound that had its hind legs removed after an accident and it had to walk around with one of those little buggies with wheels. If it had been my dog I would have asked for all its legs to be removed and replaced with wheels and had a remote control installed. I could charge neighbourhood kids for rides and enter it in races. If I did the same with a horse I could drive it to work. I would call it Steven.

Regards, David.

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.07pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Awww

Please just use the photo I gave you.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.22pm
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.34pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

I didnt say there was a reward. I dont have $2000 dollars. What did you even put that there for? Apart from that it is perfect can you please remove the reward bit. Thanks Shan.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.42pm
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.51pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

Can you just please take the reward bit off altogether? I have to leave in ten minutes and I still have to make photocopies of it.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.56pm
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 1.03pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

Fine. That will have to do.

A Story From Back Then

So I thought you might all benefit from a small story from back in the days, when I used to date a Chinese boy, and how that affected my entire perspective on life and... the Asian culture.

Asian culture at its finest!

Of course, I am not going to waste an entire blog entry on juicy info on how I landed a completely self-absorbed Chinese arrogant, but rather reveal a small piece of the agonizing scenarios I was forced through being with him.

One would automatically assume that if you travel 10 hours by plane to the Eastern hemisphere of the globe and you come to visit your future in-laws, that you would be somewhat relieved of the insane amount of pressure placed upon your dainty shoulders as you set foot inside the car ready for you at the airport. You would think that after 4 months of being absent in your beloved's life, that you would be greeted with hugs and kisses.

I was.

But then quickly escorted to the center of town where we were supposed to meet the dreaded in-laws.

In-laws in most European countries mean your beloved's parents. But in China, in-laws mean the entire goddamned family.

For the most part I would be thrilled to meet native Chinese people and show them the wonders of Europe, such as napkins and proper dining etiquette, but seeing as I had spent the last 18 hours of my life boarding planes and trying my hardest to avoid airplane food - I was looking like a drowned and beaten up bag of kittens and could hardly think of anything else but eating food.

And here were the people, dying to meet me and become impressed with the glory and beauty that my Chinese fiancé had promised them.

In-laws' hopes of the future bride

So after the many hand-shakes that they were all so proud to show they had practiced, we got to sit down in a private suite at a fancy hotel, with a giant turn-table at the center of the table. Within seconds the table was piled up with food of any size and shapes.

Being as hungry as I was, eating barely cooked chicken feet and fish eyes was a battle easily won. Hunger over sanity.

So imagine what they eat for breakfast

It soon dawned on me, that when I was busy gobling down the rice that I figured would be the best thing to fill my empty stomach with (safer than the fried doggy, right?), that I had become the center of everyone's attention. The men were busy raising tiny beer glasses at me while the women were all whispering to each other, their eyes easily trimming off my clothes and skin.

And then, when I decided it was safe for me to offer them all a polite and somewhat awkward smile (probably with seaweed stuck between my lovely front teeth), hell broke loose.

The women would fight over which one was allowed to turn the table and hereby offer me the nearest available dish to me.

I politely refused. (Insert an inevitable Disney gasp of distress sound)

To be honest, I had eaten my share of the food within the first 10 minutes, only to realize that the custom in this region of China, was to spend the next 4 hours eating food.

So I did...

'Damn you, ever-so-dilating-stomach!'

Needless to say, the dinner party was a disaster. I had a hard time understanding the few sentences in broken English thrown at me and the endless ramblings in Chinese, that, obviously, all concerned me. And I was feeling sick to my stomach from eating so much food.

And to top it off, I have been told afterwards, that some of the aunties there considered me somewhat a pig for eating so much food.

Well you offered it to me with a cultural gun pointed at my brain, so what did you expect woman?!

Sitting in the car with only my actual in-laws in the back-seat, I was ready to vomit as we drove through the heavy polluted fumes that surrounded the city. Even at night time.

I was exhausted to the point where I couldn't care less about the stain on my shirt that I was so incredibly embarrassed about at the dinner party. Nor did I care if I did disappoint a few of the uncles for not thinking Mao was the greatest man ever. Or the aunties for not already being pregnant with five healthy Chinese communist leaders..

Oh well. At least we would be going home and enjoy a quiet evening, right?

Wrong.

We took an immediate trip south of the city, to the country side where we would hook up with some even more distant relatives that were apparently also excited to see me.

I will spare the details of the long drive there and just let you know that I actually slept a good long 4 hours in the car before we got there.

If you have ever had the stereotypical image of a village in the country side where people practically live in small huts surrounded by overly harvested farms and had goats inside their cottages - you were right about this one.

They slept on a fucking slab of rock!

And so did I.

Until the return of the dreaded Chinese dinner.

The long haul from Denmark to Fuzhou in Northern China, the lack of hydration to my body and the insane amount of acids stuffed into my belly within a couple of hours would naturally strike my body like lighting does a silly, lonesome cow on the top of a hill.

Needless to say, the cow died.

Along with my pride as I had to escape the rock I was sleeping on, stumble over a few goats and crash into a wall that wasn't quite the door I was looking for - until I made it outside in complete darkness and pouring rain. At least out here no one could wake up from the horrible moaning of my digestive system.

I was only wearing a thin pajamas and wielding a tiny flashlight as I sauntered down the small steps leading to a, by now, very muddy trail that led to the back of the garden.

You are quite correct in your assumption. There was no bathroom. There was a corner of the garden where they would usually have a big hole and squat over this to do their business.

A luxury only the richest farmers can afford

Now imagine that a 'bathroom' like this is in a cold, insanely dark and very rainy garden and you will picture the horror painted on my face and the glee of my bowels.

So as I squatted there over the mud-hole to do my business, I could suddenly no longer feel the rain soaking my pajamas. I looked up only to find the not-so-easily-disturbed-grandma who had decided to come to my rescue after hearing me crash with the goats in the house and she was holding an umbrella over my head.

How convenient. Thanks grandma.

I tried to fend her off as I was finding it all rather embarrassing, but she was insistent on helping me to the extent of holding my pants.

Once I had convinced her that everything was alright, we walked back inside the house where she was so nice to offer me to sleep there on the floor with her. I tried my best to motion to my sleeping fiancé there on the rock bed looking irresistible in my current state of mind, but she grabbed my arm and dragged me into submission.

And there I was..

Somewhere approximately 300 km from Fuzhou in Fujian province, in a tiny cottage that would probably be swimming in mud by the time of morning, surrounded by smelly goats and snoring Chinese farmers and with grandma's arm neatly tucked over my waist with her hand strangely resting on my left boob.

And the last thought that occurred to me before I fell asleep was: God I'm hungry..

The Money Shake

Last night, my loverboy and I went to a party south of Copenhagen. It was a so-called lawn party to celebrate the happy event of their wedding, her birthday and the birth of their lovely daughter.

But in reality, it was just another excuse to get drunk. (What can you do, the man is Polish!)

Traditional polish lawn party!

It was the first time I met some of the people from Hiro's childhood. Most of them are probably criminals, but they were also married with kids. And pretty nice too, after the first keg of beer.

Naturally there came the predicted division of people. All the boys in one end talking about retarded memories like burning a pole dancer with a lighter and of course, soccer. And all the girls at the other end talking about how retarded their husbands are and how beautiful their babies are. I didn't mind. Don't have kids yet, but it was sure fun to listen to the countless entries about kids being little rascals that mess up your life. I made sure to repeat some of the key phrases from the story quite loudly, so as to make sure Hiro was paying attention. "Oh you mean you haven't slept more than four hours for the past year?!"

Fun.

Yeah, you didn't know momma talked about you like that, did ya?

Obviously I came off as the rich girl who had never done anything wrong in her entire life. And I guess, compared to the intense stories that came across the tables yesterday, this is very true!

But the girls became extremely fond of me somehow. I am already invited to a cupcake event in the nearest future, coffee dates and countless double-dates.

And I didn't even try to come off as anything but friendly!

Needless to say, after all the food was eaten the party turned into an inferno of testosterone and giggling girls. While the men were busy arm-wrestling across burning candles, the girls were busy dancing around to Adam Lambert in skirts that kept sneaking up the thighs and stomping the stripper-heels.

And every time the host re-entered the huge tent in the garden, he threw his arms up in the air and went; "What the hell are all you people doing in my backyard?!" (He's polish, what can you do?)

Of course, there had to be drama too. Eri was attending, obviously.

One of the girls decided she had had too much to drink and suddenly figured that her whole life was a waste, so the hostess and I spent an hour knocking and pleading the bathroom door to open for her to come out (and the testosterone men to have a bathroom to go to so they won't kill the garden with their manliness).

But it wasn't just the girls. A boy also had too much to drink and had a mental break-down. He and the host got into a fight. Not the verbal kind.

Suddenly the roles were switched and the women were busy arguing who had the biggest muscles of all, and the men were running after the depressive boy in an attempt to cheer him up.

Meanwhile, I was making out with the loverboy in the corner somewhere. We sorta missed out on all that, but it was great to hear the story from 24 different drunk angles afterwards. Some dude at some point, decided that he better drop off a note or two on our love-making. So he brought in a bottle of vodka (the polish kind) and explained countless perverted reasons you should not have sex in a playpen.

Hey sexy, wanna get it on?

At some point, people were so incredibly drunk (except for me) that we decided to hit the road and return home. We decided to give the depressive drunk a ride home because no one wanted a lawn party to end in suicide or possible host-murder.

So my drunk buddhist leader boyfriend decided he should cheer up the boy in the backseat of the car with some buddhist sutras. As I hit the highway, I had two very drunk boys chanting in the back of my car and one was laughing while doing it, the other crying.

I was very happy to drop off the maniac, who decided that I should be compensated for the loss of my sanity and driving him home, so he did the money shake.

At first I thought he was a goofball and gave me his number. Cause it felt like a folded piece of paper when he was shaking my hand. And when we got home, I realized he'd given me an insane amount of money.

Can't figure out if I should keep it and play on his drunkness, or simply stop by and return it to him because he was pretty upset and pretty wasted.

Damn you expensive VIP cab!

Ah well. If I do stop by, he will probably be busy snoring off his hangovers and I will probably break down his pride.

I'll just pretend yesterday was a bad dream and I took a cab home.

No wait, I was the cab.

Buddhism & Me

So tomorrow I will be spending the day at an 'open-house' event at the Kaikan somewhere close to Nordhavn Station here in Copenhagen.

This event is for the buddhists here in Copenhagen and as my inspiring mother-in-law is somewhat the leader of this entire organization, she probably knows just about everyone going there.

This kind of buddhism is the best kind - in my honest opinion. And I definitely do not mind going.

I will be attending this thing in the excellent companionship of my hilarious sister-in-law.

And.

There will be free food!

Although I might be a little worried that due to the inbred society of my in-laws who represent the head of the staff at this Kaikan event, I might risk being put onto a stage and explain the crowd the complexity of my entire existence.

This, I don't mind either. What rich little blonde girl does not want that kind of attention? Honestly.

I really just don't want the spotlight to turn into a retarded, religious sort of Jeopardy where I will be asked questions I am nowhere near capable of answering.

So just to put this out straight to you guys...

There are going to be a lot of prematurely balding, young and very old, yellow and red robed people there, who are strangely good at humming monotonously.

And then there is going to be me.

Now imagine the impact of this scenario!

The scenario.

I know that my soon-to-be-husband is insanely proud of showing me off to a crowd like that. And I know that some of those men will be frequenting the bathrooms while I strut around in my designer heels and tight t-shirts, but I also know that I don't want to leave the event feeling like the dumb blonde.

As much as I appreciate Paris Hilton for what she is (or isn't?) the 'I-am-just-a-really-sexy-but-therefore-dumb-blonde' thing is not me.

So tonight I have to study. I can't believe I have to study just to show up at a party! I seriously need to re-arrange my party schedule and perhaps next weekend - do something a bit more on the wild side.

Speaking of the wild side, I came across a couple of cosplayers while I was having dinner in town with my cousin. To me, I am familiar with the phenomenon and therefore don't pay too much attention, but my cousin ( who is an army officer ) was spooked by the spiffy Naruto head bands, violet wigs from the nearest Toys R Us and the poor quality of grandma's attempt at transforming her vintage table cloth into a shiny metal armor that they were wearing.

So in order for me not to ruin the Japanese fever to my cousin and make it seem slightly more interesting (rather than retarded), I explained to him it was the craze of young minds..

UNTIL

I realized that among the cosplayers were approximately a forty-year-old douchebag that smelled (and looked) like he still catered his interests in the damp basement of his mother's house.

The douche in his natural habitat

My work was ruined! How do you even begin to explain that? I know that there are some pretty weird people out there, but had he not been wearing a costume, every single mother in the surrounding area would have flocked him only to beat his teeth into his gut for hanging out with 10 year olds.

I'm okay with children dressing up. I'm okay with cosplay being an event that people go to in sealed off (and very smelly) convention centers, but prancing around in public looking like a retard who accidentally stumbled into grandma's wardrobe - that is just not acceptable.

Acceptable cosplay.

Maybe I can use this piece of useless image still scarred onto my retinal memory and transform it into a speech of social acceptance and the odd chances in life that we are given (like acting out a Japanese cartoon character with incredibly lousy fashion sense) - which we take - which causes a natural domino effect on the world and everyone involved.

Now, imagine what other choices in life this guy has surpassed to end up like a douche?