New Flat. Sleeping with my laptop. Hackin and smokin.

I moved to my new place downtown about two days ago and I am starting to settle in nicely. I've just finished cleaning the floor (right after the cleaning lady left) for the 8th time. Incense is burning and candles are lit all across the living room while I type this long overdue blog entry. I'm so new age right now that I reek of essential oils and tofu. Oh yeah, I also have a roommate. Y'all know Wendy. She's not here right now, but she's prolly coming home pretty soon from work. I hope she doesn't freak out when she sees the floor. I did tell her about my cleaning habits. To tell you the truth, I'm a little scared about this arrangement. This is the first time that I'll be living with someone. I'm just glad that we're not havin sex so that relieves me of the pressure. Wendy's a total fruitfly and I'm a total nut. This living arrangement is only gonna be temporary as both of us don't want to be caught in this city coming 2009. She wants to go to Australia and I want, well, to marry the prince of Qatar (so lets cross our fingers and pubes hoping that might happen).

We did get into an understanding though {at least we're trying to, I think}. Like I can walk around in my boxers and she can vege out in front of the tv with her foam thing. We are allowed to fart in the apartment and nobody would laugh at the one who farted unless its waaaaaaaaaaaay too funny a fart. We can smoke but we have to smoke on the balcony {we're both trying to quit}. I can clean the floor as long as I want. She do reiki and flag. We cannot masturbate in the living room {so much for my coffee table fantasies}. We can listen to music of our choice. We can bring visitors over. We can come and go as we please as long as the other knows the comings and goings. So far so good. We'll have problems I'm sure but I'm sticking with the positive. I need this to be a positive experience for me so yeah. I'll post some photos of my new place when we are both done with the redecorating.

I've been workin a whole lot lately. For the past few weeks (except for the last coupla days) I have been sleeping very late and what's worse is that I have been sleeping with my laptop beside me {my sex life in a nutshell. kidding*}. Coming Saturday, my ass is back to work so I am so going to enjoy my days off.

I've been sick lately and I've been coughin like a madman since yesterday. I know, it's prolly the smoking and I should quit it. I am actually. If only I could find some nicotine patches here. I actually asked a friend to buy some for me in Hong Kong. I'm hopin he could find some. I seriously SERIOUSLY need to stop smoking forever... like forever... FOREVERRRRRRR! {ever... ver... ver... er...}.

This is one lousy post I know. gimme a break, I haven't written a post in a very long time and I should write more.

Bye for now. I'll post more thought provoking shit next time. Cheers.

ps.
I'm curious.
If you were me, what should I post?

Music Playing In My Head

I've singing this song in my head since last week {and dancing to it too}. It's from the film coffee and cigarettes. I need to see that film. So bad.

New Years. Eggs Benedict. Beijing.

I never thought 2007 would end, but it did. I am thankful and relieved that I was able to come out of it unscathed (I may have a couple of bruises here and there but hey, I’m still one piece). I celebrated the New Year in Beijing working and playing. Wendy, my future roommate, came with me to Beijing. She wanted to spend the new years dancing to good music (which we did). Where else could you find good dance music but a gay club? So we went to a gay club called Destination {mudidi in Chinese}. Destination is a popular gay dance and lounge club in Beijing. Gay locals and expats in Beijing call the place Desperation yet they still go there {I guess a lot are going desperate these days}. Wendy enjoyed herself thoroughly, but her only complaint was that nobody was hitting on her and guys were hitting on me. I actually felt good that people were hitting on me. I mean, I’ve been in Freezeville so long and I was already wondering if I had bad breath or body odor or something. People kept glancing and touching and groping, and well let’s just say a lot of people are going desperate these days. So desperate Wendy and I stayed in the gay bar till 3-ish am then I finally told her I had enough so we went looking for a straight bar that played “funky house” so guys could hit on her. True enough we found a straight bar that said out front that it played funky house. It didn’t it was like the music that Freezeville usually plays in its bars. Gay clubs really play the best music. The only consolation for Wendy was three guys started hitting on her. The only consolation for me was that there was a couch where I could actually lie down and rest my eyes. When I got tired of sleeping and Wendy got tired of being hit on, we decided to go and look for a place to eat. An American guy tagged along not actually knowing that I was with Wendy. The guy had an I NEED TO GET LAID IT’S NEW YEARS AND I’M ALREADY TURNING 25 IN A COUPLE OF MONTHS AND I NEED SOMETHING IN MY LIFE THAT WOULD ACTUALLY PASS FOR THE GREAT LEAP FORWARD SO MAYBE RANDOM SEX WOULD DO IT look on his face. Wendy was thinking about eggs benedict and he was thinking about her mammary glands. The poor guy paid for the taxi to go to this 24 hour brit pub that served good greasy meals and when we got a table, he pretended to phone his friend and left. Wendy didn’t care. She wanted her eggs benedict and by god she was gonna have it. She later told me that the guy was rude. He was sorta. Still, I hope he got laid that morning. He’s not my type mind you, I kind of feel for the guy. If you could’ve seen his face. He had that I NEED TO GET LAID IT’S NEW YEARS AND I’M ALREADY TURNING 25 IN A COUPLE OF MONTHS AND I NEED SOMETHING IN MY LIFE THAT WOULD ACTUALLY PASS FOR THE GREAT LEAP FORWARD SO MAYBE RANDOM SEX WOULD DO IT look and it was just too depressing to look at. Or maybe it was just that he had too much chemicals in his system. Well, there’s always the Chinese New Years.

By the way, eggs benedict just tastes heaven. I have to learn how to make those bastards.

Beijing is just a different city. It is a world on its own. Without the Chinese characters, it barely looks like the Beijing I saw when I first came to China. It’s like every time I visit Beijing, there’s always something new. And it’s kind of scary sometimes. I was going to my client one morning and I didn’t want to be late so I took a quick shower, left Wendy in our hotel room and took a cab to the designated place for the meeting. It was an unusually clear day for Beijing that morning and I was wondering if the green measures that the Chinese government is implementing in Beijing are finally paying off. I tried my best not to take out my digital camera and take pictures because I figured that I was far too sinofied to be taking pictures in a taxi cab. As I was nearing the Central Business District, I saw the new and almost finished CCTV Tower. Grotesque was the word that came to my mind when I saw the monolith looming over the Central Business District. It was mesmerizing for a split second then it became another thing for me. I’d prolly begin to appreciate it after a few decades or so. In its defense there are other buildings that are far uglier. And besides, the Eiffel Tower got the same treatment from assholes like me in its early years. Meh.

Beijing is a beautiful city. It’s ugly too. But then again, like what my boss said, all cities are like that. One thing that I noticed in Beijing is that people have clear cut spaces that they occupy. Especially expatriates. I was in that pub with Wendy eating her eggs benedict (I ordered burger and fries and I was still hungry) and I was discreetly observing people around. Almost all the patrons that time were foreigners. I could actually tell which ones were fresh from a China Southern Airline flight and which ones were just passing through and which ones who’ve been in China for a long time. Don’t ask me how but I feel it, and most of the time I’m right. It’s with the look. The way they dress. The way they talk and carry themselves. It’s with the way they order food. It’s many things actually. Then there was this guy that sat beside our table. It was clear that he’s been in Beijing (or China) for quite a while now. North American. Early forties. Eating his pizza while consuming half a bottle of vodka with tonic on the side. I made a mental note on how he responded to Wendy. Wendy was just so happy and giddy that she found eggs benedict, and mostly drunk, I guess. I didn’t stop her because I knew she was having way too much fun and she was pretty much harmless. She wanted to make small talk with the guy while we were both waiting for our food to arrive. The guy’s reply was both curt and condescending which Wendy, in her half drunken stupor, noticed. I just smoked my Marlboro’s and continued observing people. I focused my eyes on the Brazilian party on the other table. They were clearly enjoying themselves, probably students studying Chinese. The food arrived. We ate Wendy and I, the man ate his pizza and drank his vodka. Wendy was muttering something while she was on mid bite. She wanted to make more small talk with the prick {her words} just to piss him off but she held her tongue. We enjoyed our food and talked and ate and talked and ate and smoked. It was clear to the guy that we were out-of-towners and I could actually hear what he was thinking – “Tourists. Why don’t you just finish taking pictures and get on the next train to bumfuckwhereeveritisyouwork”, I could almost hear the words. And I bet my brown ass Wendy could hear it in her head too. Then again I didn’t care. It was the first day of 2008 and I was eating my friend’s eggs benedict and smoking Marlboro’s and drinking iced lemon tea. I looked around the room and apparently, all the others had that same afterglow look on their faces. Well, except the guy beside us. In fact, he was the only one eating without a companion. Which was, in a way, kind of sad. He reminded me of the guy who wanted to have sex with Wendy. That guy had the look of I WANT SEX EVEN A BLOWJOB WOULD DO written all over his face, but the guy beside our table had another kind of look. A look that said, LEAVE ME ALONE AND LET ME EAT MY FUCKING FOOD AND DRINK MY FUCKING VODKA YOU FUCKING TOURISTS. I actually felt something for the guy. I mean, I’m not attracted to him or anything but it’s just that my Ms. South Carolina gets over my normal self sometimes and I want to make the world a better place and eradicate illiteracy in South Africa and the betterment of Asia in general, thank you world peace, bow, wave, smile and pose. Ms. South Carolina or not, the guy needed a hug or a pat on the back. I wanted to hug him and tell him that it was all going to be alright. That life, in all it’s vicissitudes was actually beautiful and awesome and worth living.

So did I do it? Did I go all Leo Buscaglia on the guy and sang kumbaya in his face? Fuck hell no! What would you expect from a guy with a two minute attention span?! And besides, I was way too focused on the eggs benedicts. Let him think we are fucking tourists {well, we basically were}. He got up and left. I finished Wendy’s eggs benedict and drank some of her coke and lit a fag. And I looked at Wendy and told her “Happy New Year”. She did the same. I looked at her breasts; those mounds of flesh that those three men in the straight bar {that played fake funky house music!) were all pining for. They were indeed beautiful. And I dare say that they were very happy at that moment.

New Year

It’s almost 10.40 pm here in Beijing and I am typing this blog entry on my hard sleeper bed on a train bound to my city. I spent my Christmas and New Year here in the big city. Except for that one night on the 31^st of December, I didn’t do much celebrating. I was never a fan of the holidays anyway. I came to Beijing to work and meet a friend that was leaving China for good. I am tired, really tired but I honestly feel good, like I am high in some drug or somewhat.

The train is starting to move at a slow pace, slowly gaining momentum as the neon signs slowly become less and less intelligible. A woman in her fifties sits on my bed beside me and she is looking at the words that I am typing. As if understanding that I was actually writing about her, she stands and climbs to her bed. I can’t see the neon signs now. I think this is going to be a good year.