I need another day.

SB has a point. Sometimes, the two day weekend is just not enough to do all that you need to do. We have five days to work, why don't we get 5 days to do our shit? But see, I'm not even asking for 5, I'm just asking for one more. Three day weekends should not be something we look forward to, it should be the norm. The units of time within 2 days is sometimes just not enough for what I have planned. I have old roommates to catch up with. Phone calls to people I have to make. Movies to watch. Moon to play with so she doesn't feel unwanted. Trainers to set up. Laundry to do. Self training to master. Guitar songs to rehearse. Grey's Anatomy I want to watch. Apartment to be cleaned. And so on, and so forth. Every weekend, I make this list, and hardly ever do I check off the entire list before it's Monday morning again. After the hours spent into extra sleeping, showering and eating, the weekend's half gone. If we had another day, we wouldn't run into this problem. Everyone would be refreshed from the weekend, having done all that was needed, and be ready to work on Monday. Great, and now I'm starting to sound like SB.

Tonight, Moon and I made it home to watch the last hour of American Idol, guy's night. I try not to get sucked into these things, but its hard. Especially with someone like Ace on the show! Boy, he's a real winner, I'll tell you that. Moon would never admit it, but she was mesmerized too, I can tell.

I finally finished Life of Pi last night (which was the reason for me getting up late this morning and almost late for work). I had my doubts in the beginning, but halfway through it, I found myself engulfed in the book, and thinking about it throughout the day, wanting to talk to someone about Pi, (also wanting to eat some pie too, but that's nothing new). That's when you know you've got something special; when it creeps up on you before you even realize it.

There's just something about reading a really good book thats just so refreshing yet really lonely at the same time. The experience of it is twofold: you find yourself trapped inside the world of the writer, living his words, celebrating his joys, traveling the world. Yet at the same time, reading a book is so personal: you do it by yourself at your own pace, you turn the pages when you're ready, all the sadness and happiness you're experiencing is done alone. There's no one to share it with at *that* moment. There were so many times while I was reading when I just wanted to turn to the person next to me and say, "can you believe that just happend?" but I knew I would be answered by silence.

Oh sure, tons of people have read the book, I can find anyone to sit down and have a discussion, but I just feel it won't be the same. They'll be recalling hints of memories of what they read a week, a month, a year ago. They may remember what happened in chapter 24, but would they be able to remember how they felt when they read that chapter? What was racing through their minds? What kinds of questions they had that they deeply needed answered right then?

No, I don't believe it would be the same.

But, no matter. As lonely as it is, I would rather have these amazing experiences on my own than to never have read anything worthy of a deep heavy sign of appreciation as I did last night.



Mmm...french apple pie.

Alas, I've found that Mr. A-Z will not return to the states until at least after June. Hopefully he will be back in July, perhaps in time for my birthday? That would be spectacular.

This past week the band finally got together for the first time ever, after months of talk and mental rehearsals. Things escalated when our "studio" (if you will) was suddenly made available to us. Shortly thereafter, we conceived of the greatest band name ever, one that everyone quickly agreed to without hesitation (not to mention ideas for t-shirt designs), which finally resulted in our first jam session. One thing I realized during our jam session was this: being a rock star will be harder than I imagined. Not that I ever thought it was easy, but it will be hard. I need to brush up on my skills. (But in reality, I really need to just get some skills.) My lack of musical abilities was not exposed this time, for Hillz forgot to bring her amp for me, so I played as if I was the greatest rock star ever, and since they couldn't hear me, nobody was none the wiser. But since then, the amp has been brought in, and the next time we play, everyone will find out I'm a fraud.

But no matter. I will not let that stop me. Embarrasment only lasts momentarily (unless you're like me, and tend to play all things embarrassing on a constant loop inside my head.) And if I suck now, I can only get better. I'll bring home the "most improved" award. Afterall, I can't NOT be a part of a band with a name so great. It'd be like knowing you have the winning lottery ticket, and then throwing it in the trash.

And who would do that?

"Not I", said the fly with a pie in the sky.

Not I.

The Chronic (WHAT!)-cles of India

,

and subsequently Hong Kong

: A continuation...

I don't think I can quite go through everything I experienced in India, so I'll just do what I can on this blog, and leave the rest in my head, where images still appear in my dreams even after a week of being back.
A couple things on India:

*Driving on the street gets pretty crazy.*

Cars don't drive inside the lanes! This I experienced pretty quickly in India, when the driver took us from the airport to the hotel. They seem to like to hover over the middle white line that divides the road into two lanes. Everyone always seems to be in a hurry, so if the rickshaw/car/bus/large truck with a load the size of an elephant/etc. is going too slowly in front of you, you simply honk your horn for them to move over to let you go ahead. But you don't just honk. You HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK (seriously) until the vehicle in front of you moves over. And even IF you can clearly see that the vehicle in front of you can't move over for whatever reason, you still HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK HONK HONK HOOOOOOOOOOOOONK until they do so. Even if the vehicle in front of you is still a few seconds away from being directly in front of you, you still HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK until they move, just to get a head start. It gets very loud and annoying sitting on the road, let me tell you.

However, many of the large trucks have two words painted on the back of the truck or rear bumper: HONK PLEASE. So I guess it's normal to be honked at. Another thing I noticed was that many of their heavy loaded trucks are all very brightly painted and decorated. They're fun to look at, especially when the honking gets not so fun.

Many times, depending on what part of the city you're at (we were mostly in Delhi), I'm guessing the light signals are merely "suggestions" rather than the law. There were a couple times when after we crossed a street, I thought to myself, "Self, did we just go through a red light?" To which I would reply to myself, "Self, I belive we just did."

On the very first day of our 5 day tour, within 10 minutes of getting into our car, the car's right side mirror got sideswipped by this huge bus. That's how close the bus came to us.

The streets there were farily dusty. Parts of the main roads were paved, but the sidewalks weren't. Everywhere I went I felt like there was dust everywhere. Not to mention cows. People keep asking me if I saw cows. Yup. I saw cows. Lots of them. Most of the time just chillaxing on the street, or trying to find something to eat. Most of them looked like they were in pretty bad shape though, either really skinny, or really dirty. None of them looked particularly happy, not at all like those prankster california cows that they're always showing on TV. I also saw several elephants, monkeys (which, as cute as they are, you have to stay away from), yaks, camels, and of course, a snake charmer with a cobra that came out of the basket when he played his flute thing.

Oh, and along the way, I saw men (of all ages) just peeing along the side of the road, or against a wall. Speaking of men:

*Men in India are not afraid to show their feelings.*

I saw alot of men in India holding hands with other men. Either alone together, walking down the street, with a group of other friends, you name it, they hold hands. They also get very huggy with each other. And yes, they're still completely heterosexual. Trust me, we asked. It was a little surprising at first to see, but I'm glad that they're ok being so open about showing their affection for their friends.

I don't think I'll get into all the temples, museums, and monuments we saw on our trip. Too many to name, and the pictures would probably do it better justice than whatever I can say about them. Actually, no. The pictures themselves probably won't do the real places any justice either...I'm a bad photographer anyway. I can't say that my experience is totally representative of India since most of the places we went to were tourist areas. So if you're really all that interested about the things I saw, I guess you'll have to go there yourself and experience it.

One thing I did love in India was their movies. I watched parts of 2 movies on the busses, and even though I couldn't understand what they were saying, I still got the gist of it, and I LOVE those dance numbers. The guys dance, the girls dance in their sexy clothes, and they just dance dance dance while they sing sing sing, and everything is really bright and colorful. How can one not be happy after watching one of those singing dance numbers? How?

I do have to say though, that I've become quite proficient at squatting down to pee. You do something enough times, you're bound to get good at it, even if you weren't to begin with.

HONG KONG...

...was awesome! For some reason, I really liked Hong Kong. Maybe it was because it was so much more comfortable than India. Maybe because everyone there is Chinese and I can relate and just blend in. Maybe it was because everything seemed familiar and reminded me of my early childhood in Taiwan. Or maybe it was just because there was food everywhere? Yea, probably. (Oh, and plus Hong Kong is just fun to say in English. I usually say it with an accent ala Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's.)

Everywhere you go, there is a restaurant in front, in back, to the sides of wherever you are. Small or large (but usually small). I smelled chinese food all the time! (Which was a great change from all the curry smells that made me nauseous in India, AND, the lack of any chinese food smells in Burbank.) And most places stay open pretty late...imagine having noodles after midnight....oh the life.

Public transportation there consists of nice and clean double decker buses, clean subways, taxis everywhere, and mini buses (which are suppose to be faster than the big busses I think). It was really easy to get around. And all you do is buy a Supercard in advance, and you can just scan it through on the busses or subways. It's so fast and easy, and there's no fishing in your pockets for change. I'm starting to sound like a commercial for Hong Kong...

And did I mention the food? Hong Kong is famous for their seafood, which, when I realized it, thought, it's ok, I can just eat rice. (I'm not a huge seafood fan...I'll eat fish, but I can pass on all the other stuff.) But there was one night where we had a seafood feast, and I tried everything, even things I didn't think I would ever eat, and it was all so delicious. SO DELICIOUS!!!! I still don't know what some of the stuff I ate was. But I know it was darn tasty. I left that night with a full stomach and a new outlook on seafood. Well...at least the kind in Hong Kong.

Even though I have lived in Taiwan and New Jersey, I mostly grew up in Southern California...Orange County no less, and I've always been aware that I live in a bubble. So whenever I go to a new place I always wonder if I can ever live there, if my coffee drinking, corolla driving, celebrity sighting, flip flop wearing, Hollywood trashtalk, sunny-all-the-time-without-humidity, reality TV filled way of life could ever adapt to a new environment. I think I could in Hong Kong. I think I'd be able to toss up my beret, do a twirl in the street, and make it there afterall...should I ever choose to.

I guess we'll see.

Hello people. Here I am, back from the other side of the world, alive and well (except for dry skin and the minor sniffles). I'm pretty bummed, I didn't get to write as much as I had expected to, there just wasn't enough time. So, I will now transcribe what little I did write, which really had nothing to do with the places I visited at all. Perhaps the next post, or the next. We'll see. This will be a long post, bear with me. Or, just skip it all together.

The Chronic (WHAT!)-cles of India

Monday, Jan 23, 7:38am

Well, it's only been a few hours into my trip and already I have so much to write about. I'll spare you the particulars about getting up at the crack of dawn and just jump right into my first QTS ("question to self"): Just how many beverages on board this flight will they serve me before cutting me off? It seems like a good test to conduct in the midst of my boredom, but perhaps I will save that for the 10hr flight to Tokyo.

Next item of business: while in the car to the airport this morning, I came up with the greatest title to sum up all the writing I'll be doing on this trip. Henceforth, begins: "The Chronic (WHAT!) -cles of India (and subsequently, Hong Kong)". Alright, I admit, its long and only slightly humours if you've seen the SNL skit. If not, well then, go download the skit online somewhere and then come back. -BATHROOM BREAK- Just returned from the bathroom and one observation; morel ike a second QTS: this mile high club that people talk so much about, how do they manage? These bathrooms are tiny, barely enough room for a large person, how do two people fit in there? Perhaps the restrooms are larger on the jumbo jets...I'll have to report on that later.

Soon, I will be landing in Portland. I wish I had done some research about Portland since I'll be stuck there for three whole hours. Slight chance of rain there, the capt. said. I wouldn't mind getting out of the airport to see the city but its highly doubtful I will. I'm sure I already display signs of being the novice traveller. I'm a little too eager in my movements and too easily excited and confused. A skilled con man would be able to easily single me out in the crowd and prey on my inexperience with traveling. Oh look! Snowy mountains to my right! Pretty..

I have a window seat, and am the only occupant in this row, which is cool, I've never had my own row before. And hark! More snow! One thing I do like about flying, is that it's always sunny up here, despite the weather down there. I mean, to have the sun right next to you, shining its rays of light down below is so serene and promising of what's to come.
Ooooh! A snow filled lake!

My mental visualizations of the plane going down will not help me on this flight, for I visualized myself on the left side, and I am sitting on the right side of the plane. And, the other passengers on board are just too mellow to fulfill the role of the screaming chaos I had visualized. No, these people will not do at all. And it's too late to adjust my visualizations, at least for the flight. Perhaps on the next?

11:27pm PST Monday

There is snow in Japan. How cool is that? Ok, maybe not that much, I guess its just that everything looks pretty from above. So far, from the circular walk I just made around the international center area, Japan is pretty darn cool. For one, I've already gotten kicked out of the NWA membership lounge, (not knowing it was the membership lounge) but the Japanese lady was so polite about it that it was actually a pleasure to get kicked out by her. (How was I suppose to know you need a membership card to stay in the lounge? The signs said "public lounge!!")

**NOTE: Upon returning to that airport, I realized that I had read the sign wrong, public lounges were downstairs, membership lounges (where I went) was upstairs.

I feel like an ipod commercial walking around these airports with my ipod shuffle dangling around my neck (I have no pockets on me), while I walk in step to the tune of Ben Lee's "That's the way I like it." I was a bit worried about the music selections in my shuffle, but so far, I think I did superb: these are totally hanging-out-in-airports-of-different-countries tunes. Definitely.

So I survived the dreaded 10hr flight. Sat next to an older gent whose story can be an entry of his own. It was definitely more cramped on that flight, which was the reason for me not writing for 10hrs. Plus Tom (the name I'm giving to the man who sat next to me because we never did introduce ourselves, thus avoiding the commitment of friendship at the minutest level) probably would have asked about it, or even worse, start reading over my arm about the things I would write about him. Instead, I read my trashy OK! magazine, a little piece of guilty pleasure I gave into during my 3hr wait in Portland, which, from the airport, seemed very pretty (again, probably just the whole "birds eye view" thing. Tom said its not so great.) I also napped, ate a lot of snacks I brought, ate alot of in flight food, shared my snacks with Tom, and watched bad in-flight movies. Other than my back and my butt being super uncomfortable, it wasn't so bad. Actually, trying to sleep was really tiresome and annoying.

Oh great, my shuffle just stopped working. My apple commercial has ended. Op! There it is. Yay!

So, I made some observations on the last flight that answered some of my previous QTS's. Number one being: in higher altitudes, my bladder will probably give in before the beverages do.
In flight beverages: 1 SH: 0

Also, after making several trips to the restroom, I've concluded that yes, two people can fit in there and still have a couple inches of room left to join the club. It may not be comfortable, but it is definitely possible. However, another QTS is raised: How do 2 people get in without being seen? I guess that is why the club is so exclusive: because it's hard. There's at least 1 person hanging around at any given time, not to mention the people who sit right next to the restrooms who have nothing else to do but look at the people entering and exiting the restroom. So, I give props to the people of the "club."

The Sun is just now setting in Japan, but it is after midnight in Burbank. I have made it through my first day and I am still here, alive. My mental visualizations would have come in more handy on this last flight, as I was sitting on the correct side of the plane this time, and the passengers aboard, little beknownst it to them, corroborrated with the passengers in my visualizations: a couple families with small children (the better to add to the chaos if the plane went down), many Japanese men and women (have you seen their useless inventions? If they're not crazy, I don't know who is), and just a good mix of people who seemed like they would create chaos, should the opportunity arose. Not at all like the duds from the Portland flight.

6:02 am PST Tuesday

Boy, am I lucky. With 30 minutes left before I land in Hong Kong, I will just say that I was able to have the whole row to myself on this flight. I didn't really get to take advantage of the whole situation though, but the extra leg room is always nice. And boy do I feel like crap. That is all.

Feb 1, sometime somewhere in Singapore

Here I am, sitting once again in the singapore airport, waiting for my flight back to Hong Kong. That's right, back to Hong Kong. I barely had a free moment in India to do any writing. It was all "go go go!" or sleep so that we can do some more "go go go!" My so-called "chroic (what!) -cles of India" are now over. There's just so much to write about my experience in India, but its 5:50 in the morning, and instead of sleeping, I watched 2 whole movies plus 1 Family Guy episode on the plane, so it's a bit hard to concentrate on recalling all that has occured over the last 5 days. Instead, I will just write what comes to mind:

An addition/amendment to an earlier QTS: I've found that different size planes have different sized bathrooms, and when you're on an overnight flight where most people are sleeping in the middle of the flight, it seems easier than I had previously imagined to get 2 people in the bathroom to do their "bid-ness." That is the last I will say on that topic. I'm not obsessed, just strangely curious.

Oh how much I love singapore airlines. They have over 10 movies to choose from, all pretty big names and all pretty recent, in all sorts of languages. Not to mention several popular TV shows, recent and popular music albums in several languages, interactive games, and other fun things I didn't even get a chance to look at. This stuff makes the time go by so much qucker. Another reason for my lack of wirting and random thoughts.

6:34 am, continued...

Got distracted by a big yummy bowl of airport congee and CNN. Not bad for airport food. Congee is great for breakfast but really, its good at anytime of the day, if you make it right. Speaking of food, I don't think I'll be having Indian cuisine for a long time. I'm not saying never, I'm just saying a LONG time. Reason being: I go pretty sick in India. On the first day there I threw up my breakfast, and proceeded to repeat the act 2 more times through the day. I think I broke my own record. It was like that scene in Kindergarten Cop, if you've seen it you'd know what I mean. Anyway, more gory details later in my breakdown of India, but my point is, after something comes up the way it went down three times in one day, it's just not so appetizing anymore, and any similary smells encountered subsequently afterwards only acted as an annoying prodding stick, reminding me of that glorious day when I left my mark on India on three separate occasions along the hills of Shimla.

SH: 3
India: 0

Correction-

SH: 4
India: 0

(I threw up again the next day. Not to mention nearly again the day after that.)

Anyways, enough about my digestive track. Let's talk about how hot the flight attendants are on singapore airlines. Ok, they're not all hot, but they're all very pretty and well groomed. I wonder what their requirements are when hiring these gals- 1) Be pretty? 2) 24-36-24? What's the word when one discriminates against ugly people? Oy, can't think...too early in the morning.

Boy, still another 1.5 hours before I leave for HK. And then a couple more hours to get there. I can't wait though - Chinese food GALORE!!! Dim sum, noodles.. I can't imagine what else. I can hear the noodles chanting my name already. Good thing my name is very chantable - you should try it some time. Anyway, enough writing for now, I'm going to zone out on ESPN football. And by football, I mean, American Soccer. And by American, I mean British. And by British, I may mean Irish or Scottish, I can't be sure.