Oh but might I add - if you ever want to avoid the queues at immigration when its gridlocked and choc-a-bloc with people stepping all over each other --- dress professional and keep looking at your watch like you're gonna be really late for work.
That's what I did this morning and some immigration bonehead came up to me and asked me if I had anything to declare, to which I snapped "of course not" and continued to look at my watch impatiently and raise my left eyebrow discerningly (even though i had this wood ornament and packaged food). He then put a green stamp on my card and said "ok then, go out the last door over there" and pointed to this sacred path that only stewardesses and very good looking CEOs (im assuming) were allowed to walk on. YAY! I bypassed the entire security check and all the lines and got out in less than 30 seconds!
LESSON: When going through customs and immigration on a particularly busy day, don a power suit and glasses and hold lots of designer shopping bags from Hong Kong airport - and look extremely impatient, like they are wasting the 10k a minute charge for your professional time.
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1. Mont Blanc key wallet for froggie's dad 2. Shanghai Tang jewellery roll 3. Anna Sui Crystal bangle **hearts** 4. Gucci money clip for Daniel 5. Swarovski necklace for froggie's mum
And my fave at the moment:
Book written by Australian journalist working at the China Daily during the rise of the new social classes in Beijing's youth culture - its Sanlitun on steriods...
I only lasted 4 hours at work before everyone told me to GO HOME or GO TO THE DOCTOR. I think i was scaring people away with that tremendous roar of a cough - needless to say, the woman sitting in from of me on the plane complained to the stewardess and asked to be moved, while another guy came and handed me a face mask. A FACE MASK for fucks sake! How daggy do you mofos want me to look?? at least give me one with Hello Kitty on it or sth...
Anyway, doc said I have a chest infection, which i know is more commonly known as acute bronchitis. I was like oh HELL to the YEAH, thinking I could have the week off, until I realised .... wtf am I thinking. I work in an AGENCY. We dont get sick. We just get ON WITH IT.
Booooo.... Even as I sit here working from home, dabbling in the blissful momentary brain-lapse of maybe being able to do this again tomorrow ... I must sternly remind myself that Thou Worketh in a PR agency and therefore knowest not the meaning of pain, torture and grief ...
but only of spin, butt-licking journos, lunches, champayne, making up BULLSHIT stories and we-dont-care-if-ur-on-ur-death-bed-just-come-in-for-half-a-day syndrome
...
Whats worse is that the moment my mum sees me, the first thing she says is: "You look fat. Btw your sister and I haven't had lunch yet. Lets go eat."
**question marks**
And Coconut has been shaved! I love his new look, its so April 2008. He is SUCH an innovator and ahead of the times, my little one.
The only thing that remains is....
I think I've just left my heart and soul behind in a land far far away... of high towers, yellow cabs, identical looking department stores, xiaolong bao, MTV ... and an aching aching desire to be reconnected in the only way that ever felt right ... embedded in an excruciatingly complex situation ... that is so beyond you and I ...
NO i do not search for drama and heartbreak - it finds me and defines me.
It defies me.
This post should not be titled Purchases Pt 3 but Hearbreak and Sorrow ForEVER...
Why is it so damn hard....?
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