so fucking lame

im feeling sorry for myself.
i went up onto my roof and had a smoke in the rain.
it was...special. big clouds. blue sky. light rain.
then i felt sick.
so i climbed down and took a cold shower.
now im eating a cracker.

domestic bliss.

holy shit. i just had the most unexpectedly enjoyable time washing up three days worth of dishes. i figured this simple act of domesticity would be the least i could do to apply some semblance of productivity to a generally lazy day. (i admit it was lazy, but i will fight you if you say sitting in front of three hours of tv shows is wasteful.)

i charged the ipod to full juice, which is comparable to a full tank of gas, and went to tackle a crowded sink. i swirled through my artists list, looking for something new or long-forgotten. lifting my dizzy thumb, i landed on 'tv on the radio.' i'm guilty of judging books by their cover, people by their appearance, and bands by their name, so i've never given much thought to 'tv on the radio,' which is in my opinion, a dumbass name. absolute dumbass, with a hint of trying to be clever. but mostly dumbass. but these guys are PHENOMENAL. i owe them a large apology, a fruit basket, a gift card. i actually enjoyed doing the dishes, and washed all the pans.

i was completely torn. i couldn't decide if washing dishes was utterly mundane in comparison to the songs coursing through my headphones, or if conversely, the otherwise lowly act of scrubbing old bits of fish and crusted oatmeal was truly a cosmic endeavor worthy of brain rumbling guitars and hearty choruses. i'm still listening to them. and i will not stop ever. not until every dirty dish on earth is cleaned. long live 'tv on the radio.'

where are all the beautiful people?

i'm back in the land of no eye-candy.

celebrate!!

HAPPY TEN YEARS OF BELONGING TO CHINA (AGAIN)!!

it says something when the pro-democracy demonstrators outnumber the celebratory parade spectators. felt slightly aggressive when i saw a mainlander waving a cheap-ass plastic (no doubt Made in China) Chinese flag. it was raining when the Brits handed us over, and ten years on, its still raining.

fujiya & miyagi rule the world.

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the climate shock

i miss california.
i was having a good time getting tan and being beachy. on tuesday i spent several beautiful hours with candice and roxanne on balboa island pretending to be some blue-blooded young prince of intrigue agilely traversing the bike paths of martha's vineyard. i wore my tangled saltwatery hair like it was my crown in the royal kennedy bloodline. it was classic literature, iced tea on wicker, a slow atlantic sunset.
but now im back in hong kong, a victim of the humidity, my crown reduced to a spiritless helmet. i sweat without the sun, granted, not nearly as much as if the rainclouds were to dissipate. im constantly aware of anything touching any part of my body; the very spot my short socks grip my ankles, my damp jeans clinging to my thighs and knees, my absolutely suffocating boxer briefs. to go outside is to swim fully clothed.
im never prepared for this part of my summer journey home, the climate shock.

"welcome to hong kong..."

landed at dusk, probably the sexiest time of the day, especially for the mountains and city lights. thanks to a recent rain, we soared through colossal cloud formations on our approach and everything seemed very...dramatic. i made it from my gate through customs and on to the baggage claim in (honest to God) no more than 5 minutes. because of my new smart ID card, all i need is my thumbprint to get in to the country. the whole trip was quick. in something like 16 short hours, i abandoned the sunny, smoggy shores of LA and was sitting down to watch the news at home in humid HK. i'm waiting for this to hit me.
jet lag. jet laaaag.