Short Stories From Dreams Half Remembered

10 Basic Rules of Office Etiquette

2012-02-01T21:26:00.001-06:00

1) Put your phone on vibrate: It’s annoying to everyonearound you when it goes off. You might think your ringtone is cute, but Ireally don’t want to hear something that sounds like music from a porno.

2) Don’t talk with your mouth open: We all eat at our deskat one point or another, give yourself a break and don’t pick up the phone ortalk to anyone until you’ve finished eating. I don’t like getting food in myface.

3) If you see me eating at my desk, please don’t interrupt.Please don’t make me talk with food in my mouth. I don’t want you getting foodin your face.

4) Just because the walls are elbow-high, it doesn’t meanyou lean on it and talk to me. We are not neighbors that stand around and chat,I do have a job.

5) If you have time to stand around and chat with me and Ikeep my head turned to my PC screen and continue to type, my ‘uh huh’ means Ididn’t hear you nor do I care. Move along.

6) When you walk up behind someone’s chair, make noise,because if you startle me, I will push away from my desk and ram my chair intoyour shins and that is totally your fault.

7) We all have PCs, we all have our own emails, unless yourfingers are broken, even if you are my boss, type your own emails.

8) Don’t ever ask someone to Google something for you, see#7.

9) Don’t pick your nose at your desk, if I see that, I willnever ever visit your area nor touch your desk, you might find a very large jar ofantibacterial gel on your desk one day or smeared all over your desk and chair.

10) Don’t make up nicknames for other people that annoythem. Don’t continue using it even when no one else laughs except you. Then youlook like a jackass.

The Rose vs. The Sunflower

2012-01-30T06:19:00.000-06:00

With St. Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I’venoticed an increase of angst. Valentine’s Day is a brilliant marketing ideathat took a little legend and turned it into a celebration of guilt. It shouldreally be called “I Listened To The Hype And Got Shamed Into Buying You a Bunchof Roses Day”. Suddenly, people run around making all kinds of elaboratedisplays of affection for their beloved. It always struck me as silly becauseif you have someone in your life you love, shouldn’t every day be anopportunity to shower them with affection? Why would you need a day marked on acalendar?

Then there is the usual symbol for love and Valentine’s Day,the red rose.

“My love is like a red red rose” – Robert Burns

But I think about it and find that if you really look at arose, it’s true charm and attraction is its incipient symbol for expectation.Have you ever seen a rose when it is just a green polyp on the end of a bush?It has a lovely shape, then slowly the green leaf starts to unfurl and theflower petals are unveiled. It is a study of contrasts; the green against thered. The petal has a similarity to pursed lips. Perhaps that’s why it is such asymbol for romantic love.

Then as it blossoms, the petals unfurl but there is a pointwhen it becomes past its bloom. The petals fall like tears and the ground lookslike it’s covered with broken hearts. There is nothing as sad as a dead rose,its head bent, broken and bald.

I like to think as love more in keeping with a sunflower. Asunflower grows tall and proud, I’ve seen them as tall as 7 feet, their proudfaces straining at the sky as if they could, they would fly up and disappearinto the sun.

Which leads me to this poem by Thomas Moore:

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,

Which I gaze on so fondly today,

Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms,

Like fairy wings fading away

Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,

Let thy loveliness fade as it will;

And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart

Would entwine itself fervently still.

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,

And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,

That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,

To which time will but make thee more dear.

No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,

But as truly loves on to the close:

As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets

The same look which she turned when he rose.

“As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets…” That’s agreat line, because whosoever captures my heart, will capture it completely. Itstrains to fly, as love should fly. When it dies, its petals whither, the headdrops forlornly, but it still stands. Yes, I’ve simplified it, but love shouldn’tbe complicated. Love should be easy and simple.

Change

2012-01-29T16:54:00.000-06:00

It’s been a very lazy weekend for me, so I surfed thechannels and found myself caught up in the movie “The Day The Earth Stood Still”with Keanu Reeves and Jennifer Connelly. The basic plot is that an alien,(Reeves) lands on Earth, to make the final determination of whether he willdestroy the human species.

“If the Earth dies, youdie. If you die, the Earth survives. There are only a handful of planets in thecosmos that are capable of supporting complex life...” - Klaatu

Seeing that the immediate reaction to his arrival brings a verystrong military response, the world panics and looting begins, he decides it’stime to pull the plug. The hostilities toward the unknown is mirrored in theresponse of Jacob Benson(Jaden Smith), Jennifer Connelly’s son. The boy wantsto just kill the aliens. But the decision is changed when Klaatu sees the otherside of humans. Our ability to empathize and the possibility of changing ourself-destructive behavior, convinces Klaatu to stop the destruction to thespecies.

“There's another side toyou. I feel it now.” - Klaatu

Then I watched the movie “The Help”. This isn’t myreview of these two movies; it’s simply my observations of what each movie saysabout us.

“The Help” takes place during the turbulent 60s inMississippi when, segregation was institutionalized and ingrained. Threadedthrough the personal stories of the characters are historical references to thecivil rights movement. At one point a character says to the lead to hurry upand write her story before the whole civil rights movement blows over. Theyrefer to Martin Luther King’s call to march on Washington and the killing ofMedgar Evers.

The movie was brilliant as was the story it told. It was notpreachy; it had its funny and profound moments. It was a peek into a world thathas hopefully disappeared forever.

As I watched the end credits of “The Day the Earth StoodStill”, a simplified hope that man can change its self-destructive ways, Ilooked at it with a personal meaning. I wondered if I could change my own self-destructivebehavior. Will it need a life-threatening situation before I do the right things or will I just devolve into a meaningless slug? Or could I evenchange?

Then as I watched the end credits of “The Help” it dawned onme that the 60s really wasn’t that long ago, given the grand scheme of things. Soif an entire nation can change, I can change myself to be the person I want to be, the person I know I can be and be proud of myself.

I Just Wait

2011-10-16T17:38:00.000-05:00

“I hate the sound of a ticking clock.” He said before hepitched back another shot of Jack straight down his throat.

I looked around his apartment, the carelessness of his unwashed body lingered in that sick sour smell thatunfortunately always called me. It called me because I cared.

I just let him talk; there was nothing left for me to say. Ithought it best to just let him ramble.

“She had this clock, said her grandmother left it for her.She loved the damned thing. I could set my watch to her winding the stupidthing every night at 9 o’clock before we went to bed.”

He stood and wandered over to the bar, put his hand on theneck of the bottle, then hesitated before he poured another shot.

“But the damn thing ticked. The second hand ticked. It neverbothered me before, until that last afternoon.”

He poured his drink, took it back to the couch and satresignedly with a weariness that seemed to weigh down his very soul.

He looked off into the front window, seeing something thatwas no longer there. The afternoon sun streamed through the window.But something in his eyes remembered and would never forget.

“She said she’d be back, she wouldn’t take too long. I sathere waiting for her, the damn clock ticking louder and louder.”

He groaned and closed his eyes, leaned back into the couch.

“I was reading a magazine, it didn’t take me long, thenthere was nothing left for me to do but wait. The sun was bright and sunny, Iremember kids laughing in the street. But I sat and waited, listening to thedamn ticking.”

He didn’t move, his words got slower but still distinct, hiseyes fluttered open.

“I don’t know why I sat there, like I was frozen, the damnticking seemed to take over my head and just hypnotized me.”

I watched him, wishing there was something I could do forhis pain, but he was too far gone for me to reach him.

“I’m so angry. First I was angry at him for taking her fromme.” His fists clenched, he grimaced and he squeezed his eyes shut against whatI knew were his unbidden tears. “Then I got really angry at her for leaving me.”

His breathing slowed, his face seemed to crumble.

“I know it’s wrong, it was an accident just an accident. ButI waited so long for her. I waited all my life for her to come into my life.And in the end, I was still waiting.”

He opened his eyes and gazed at the ceiling, beseechingheaven with weary, sad eyes.

“How much longer do I have to wait?”

I could see there was nothing I could do. He made up hismind a long time ago. He took half of his bottle of sleeping pills with hisfirst shot. His breathing was slowing down his heart rate dropping fast too.

Then I waited, as I always do. I waited for his final sigh.

People don’t realize, that’s what Death really only does, Ijust wait.

9/11 Ten Years Later

2011-09-11T06:00:00.000-05:00

I used to be a store manager at a Blockbuster store. We soldDirecTV satellite dish systems which meant I could turn on the TV and have itrunning while I prepared for the day to begin. Even though the store didn’topen until 10am, I always made sure I was in the store early to prepare theprevious night’s bank deposits, check in the videos that came in from the nightbefore and put the videos back up on the shelves.

It was a small store so we didn’t have a lot of sales, so tokeep my store profitable; I cut costs, which meant that during the day, I wouldbe the only employee in the store.

It started out like any other day; I was there at 7am,turned on the TV monitor and futz around the store. I always turned to theToday show and that day wasn’t any different. I was checking in videos when Iheard Matt Lauer break into the show talking about reports of a plane hittingthe World Trade Building.

My immediate first thought was “What kind of dumbass hits abuilding? What, he couldn’t turn? What a moron!” When Matt Lauer was talkingabout it, the footage of the 2^nd plane hitting the 2^ndtower hadn’t come up yet.

I just happened to glance up when the Today Show switched toa live feed and we watched the 2^nd plane and I remember completelyblanking out, uncertain of just what I saw. I don’t think I could even processwhat I just saw. Then I heard Matt’s voice and my head heard the historical andfamous voice of the reporter talking about the Hindenburg crash.

I didn’t know what to do, I was alone. So I reached for myphone and called a friend who I knew was also at his store preparing to open.He was not watching TV and I yelled at him to hurry up and turn it on, apingthe commentary I was hearing on the TV.

It was still early, we weren’t open, I was alone and I didn’tknow what to do. It took me a few minutes before I could gather myself, thenthe news started coming in fast and furious, the towers falling, then the planehitting the Pentagon, the final plane going down in Pennsylvania and theconfusion that ensued.

I finally realized I needed to call my mom. She had beenwatching the news as well and she had already spoken to my dad because hisoffice was only blocks away from the Sears Tower in downtown Chicago. I wantedhim to get out of the loop. Dad was on his way back home at around 9am.

I opened the store at the normal time 10am. I had spokenwith my district manager and she said to go ahead and open but we both agreedthere was no way we were going to be busy. Then she told me that one of theother store managers was very worried because his brother lived within blocksof the WTC and he was unable to get a hold of his brother. I spent that wholeday, tethered to the TV that wasn’t selling DirecTV, it was airing the news andthe few customers I had came to watch it with me and we talked of our grief,our shock and our anger.

At the end of the strip mall where my store was positionedwas a blood bank. By 11am that morning the line to give blood stretched fromthat store and weaved around the strip mall because so many people wanted to giveblood to help out. I will always remember that for me it was the sight of thatline getting longer and longer, bringing different people together to help inthis extraordinary tragedy that made me so proud to be an American.

The American psyche was hurt, but as is normal in moments ofgreat history, a people gather strength from the shared experiences of griefand tragedy, even more than moments of pride and joy, a major failing of ourspecies. We were united in our grief and anger; we showed the world a unitedfront.

I never knew anyone lost that day, I never knew anyone whoknew anyone lost that day. But what that moment means to me is best summed upby the immortal words of John Donne:

"... all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, onechapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; andevery chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; somepieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice;but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all ourscattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to oneanother.

Who casts not up his eye to the sun when itrises? But who takes off his eye from a comet when that breaks out? Who bendsnot his ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? But who can remove itfrom that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this world? No man isan island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part ofthe main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe isthe less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thyfriend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I aminvolved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;it tolls for thee."

We were diminished by those deaths, and we need toremember that their deaths need to mean something greater than memorials andplatitudes. We need to be the nation that those people died for; we need toinsure the families they left behind are left with a country strong and secure,proudly facing a future with hope, determination and perseverance.

Ten years later, what 9/11 will always mean to me is the reminder of howprecious life should be. I watch the specials and heard those phone recordingsand the one thing that resonates is the messages of love some of them were ableto send out on their last few moments. Because in the end, it is the love thatwe remember, the love we cling too and it is love that will keep hope alive inall of us.

Beautiful Chicago

2011-09-05T14:53:00.000-05:00

I’m not born nor bred Chicago, but I’ve spent more time herethan any other place I’ve ever lived so I consider myself a Chicagoan. Chicagois a beautiful city. So much like a beautiful woman who gets under your skinand deep in your blood, you love her one minute, then you hate her. You're not sure of a lot of things, but youknow you just can’t live without her.

In Spring, she is hope incipient, all the wistfulness thatyou hoard in winter’s dread seem to come true with the first shy buds ofmagnolia trees start popping out. The lazy drip of melting snow from in thegangway between the houses and the apartments, remind you, summer is coming.

Then one day, Summer is here, brandishing bravura like ashiny, slick, flirt’s smile you can’t deny. She is emboldened and sweet,seductive and irresistible. Summer in Chicago has to be experienced to bebelieved. The street fairs, the city festivals, the jazz/food/lalapalooza headytimes in the lake front, all remind you that this city teems with 3 millionpeople.

Then suddenly, always too soon, Summer flees. Like the girl who,after the shock of being kissed for the first time in her life, abruptly turnsaround and runs away, leaving behind a confused suitor who wanted her to lingerand yearned for just one more perfect kiss.

Fall arrives without warning, her smile bright and gorgeousover a deepening blue sky and proud, vast clouds. But she brings with her a peckishbreeze to remind you that she will easily turn a weary cold eye upon anythingshe finds displeasing.

Then one day Fall starts to darken and brood, expectant andforbidding and one morning you know, Winter has arrived. You wake up as she throws on a mantle of snow;she is quiet, demure and has that dangerous beauty that hides black ice, windchills and snow drifts. But she’s beautiful to look at and you love her firstsnow, then you hate as she turns into blackened mounds accumulating detritus onthe streets.

Labor Day is supposed to be a commemoration of the everydayworking man, yet in Chicago it is always the turning point when Fall staresdown Summer and Summer begins to fade. We pack away our shorts and our t-shirtsand wait for next year.

He Ain’t Heavy, He's My Brother.

2011-04-02T11:59:00.001-05:00

It’s interesting that April is Autism Awareness month; April 8th is my little brother’s birthday. My little brother will be 36 years old this year. He’s about 5’9” overweight but he’s still “Midget” to me. That was my nickname for him when he was little.

3 month old giggly baby

I remember when he was brought home all those years ago; I was utterly fascinated by this bald, big headed baby boy. He had one of those baby giggles that would have made him a youtube superstar. My other brother and I would spend our days making him laugh because it was utterly infectious.

Then one day he got sick, an ear infection that the ER doctor didn’t catch. By the time the hospital finally admitted him, he was bleeding from his ear. Back then the hospital (luckily it’s no longer in business), refused to let my mother stay with my brother. So they admitted him and took him from us.

You have to understand, in the Philippines, family members are not only allowed to stay with the patient, it is an expectation. There is no better medicine than care and support from loved ones. My mom was heartbroken, dad was out of town on business and no one wanted to deal with a hysterical woman with a thick accent.

The next day my mom, my other brother and I took the bus to visit my brother and the sight of my brother in his hospital bed is still seared in my mind. Our family is close, my brother’s crib was in my parents room, so if he fussed, mom and dad were there for him. So even at 18mons, he knew and keenly felt the separation.

The hospital had physically strapped him down in his hospital bed and had strapped his IV on his head! Just typing that out makes me want to really hurt someone.

We weren’t allowed to take him out since he still had to be on his IV. His little voice was hoarse, he had spent the entire night screaming.

A few days later when dad was back home, we went to get him from the hospital because he was being released. We arrived at the hospital and found that he was feeling well enough that he was in the kid’s playroom. So we went to get him. My brother refused to acknowledge our existence, he didn’t answer by name and completely ignored us, twisting away from our touch. I think I heard my parent’s heart break at that moment.

It wasn’t until he was 6years old that my parents FINALLY found a doctor that was able to tell them what was “wrong” with my brother. He had begun to talk before that hospital stay, after, he was silenced.

There wasn’t a lot of information on autism; it had barely made it into the psychiatric medical journals. But my parents did their research, made a lot of phone calls and read everything they could get their hands on. This was long before the internet and support groups.

My parents got him involved in the Special Olympics, through that organization; my brother has enough medals and ribbons to make a very full cabinet. But when he was about to graduate from the special needs classes in grammar school, the only program left for him was to be enrolled in a west side high school. This was a high school in the west side of Chicago, street toughs and uncaring teachers. My brother would get killed going to that school. But it was the only one in our home district. So my parents took the drastic step to look for another option.

They thought they found it. It was in Boston, a private live-in institution. The live-in arrangement was the big drawback, but my parents felt they had to do it. In time, he may end up living in a special community home so he might as well get used to it. But as a compromise, my mother moved out to Boston and my dad supported two households. Mom had to learn to drive.

It went on for almost an entire school year. Until we found out that that specific school’s ‘successes’ were achieved by beating the special needs children into submission.

Mom and my brother came back to Chicago. What they did find was a very good program in Grand Rapids, MI. My brother was enrolled into their school system and mom lived in a cute little 2br apartment. She had her little car and my brother thrived. He continued his special olympics activities and he even learned to show jump horse back riding.

Every Friday afternoon, my dad and I would switch off; one of us would drive to Grand Rapids and pick up my mom and brother so they can spend the weekend with us in Chicago. Then on Sunday, dad would take them back and he’d commute from Grand Rapids starting his drive back to Chicago at 5am to make it to his office by 8am.

I knew every twist and turn of that drive. Even knew just exactly where I can put the pedal to the medal because there was never any traffic patrol.

But when he was 25years old, he graduated out of the program. He came back to Chicago and now flourishes at the Austin Special Workshop.

http://wsmrca.org/ My brother’s infectious giggles have matured into an infectious smile. It’s featured on their homepage.

http://www.facebook.com/AustinSpecialArt?ref=ts He’s an artist, my brother studied at the Art Institute of Chicago taking art classes, paints, charcoals, even sculpting. His pieces, when it went up for charity sales, always sold out.

I love my brother, I don’t know if and when I tell him he understands, most of his answers are animated head nods and ‘oh yeah’ or furious shakes ‘NO NO”. But he’s got his moments.

20 years old

He was always a handsome young man. Looking at this picture, it wasn’t uncommon to have girls giving him inquiring looks and knowing smiles. My brother’s open face and sweet smile always made their days.

30 years old

I love this picture because of that sneaky look on his face, like he’s completely in the joke. My parents take him with them everywhere, they will never think of putting him in a home and separating from him ever again. But they have made arrangements for when the time comes.

When he was small, his favorite song was “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother” Sometimes when he was upset and no one could get to him, he’d put the song on his little stereo (he had the 45rpm) and sing. Sometimes when he was super upset, I’d have to hold him and sing the song for him.

I’m no saint, neither is he; I know sometimes I irritate him and he irritates me. We’re siblings, that’s what siblings do, for when all is said and done, he’s my brother.

For all that we’ve gone through as a family, for the dirty looks we got over the years, the well-meaning but nonetheless inappropriate comments and patronizing, we’ve endured.

There is that dramatic line, “I would die for you.” There are very few people I would say “I would kill for.” My brother is one of those very few people.

Because as heavy as he might get, I’ll carry him, because he’s my brother.

Zombie Nation

2011-02-16T21:32:00.000-06:00

Last week I had one of those dreams that had me waking with a burst of energy and shouting in my head. I dreamt that we lived in a Zombie Nation.

Every month, it was just a natural part of life that zombies moved around our world, so if you were alive, you simply took precautions. So it must have been that time of month – DON’T SAY IT! – and the zombies were coming.

I was with a group of people and we were preparing for the assault by making sure all the doors and windows were secure. We were in an old, large, commercial building. So as people were checking the windows, I went to check the bathrooms. I saw that they were public restrooms with old wooden doors for stalls. The windows were secured and locked down and I was about to leave when I did a double take. Two of the three stalls were those old, old fashioned type of toilets that just looked like a box with a toilet seat. Anyone could crawl up through it to get inside.

Holy Crap!

So I ran out of the room and into the main room, which now I realized, wasn’t an old building at all but a church. I ran screaming down the aisle that the zombies were coming!

Instead of springing into action, all the people sat quietly in the pews, listening to words of encouragement from the priests. He had given everyone a large crystal; each crystal would ‘cover’ two people. One person held the crystal close to their heart and another person would hold them so the crystal would press between each of their hearts, protecting them from the zombies. But no one moved, they were all like scared sheep.

So I try to get in with someone because I had come in late and, as usual, had no one to hold. I didn’t know what else to do and just followed along with the crowd. I could see the zombies come shambling inside and hysteria starting to mount, when suddenly, the priest who was supposed to be our spiritual leader and guide suddenly threw his hands in the air in despair.

“Oh forget it! This isn’t going to work! This isn’t crystal! It isn’t magic!” He screamed before he took a bite out of his crystal, the crystal were only giant cookies masquerading as rock. It was all a lie.

In my dream, I quaked in disbelief, now that the hell are we supposed to do? I watch as the zombies get closer, I jump up and run. After all, they are zombies, I can outrun them. But there are a lot of people still sitting around just waiting to be bitten. I didn’t understand why they didn’t run.

I am about to run out into the vestry when I had a thought run through my head like a bullet.

We’re just sitting here scared and surrendering. What can you do that when you do it, you can’t be scared? You smile, you laugh….

So I start screaming to everyone “YOU LAUGH! YOU CAN’T BE SCARED WHEN YOU LAUGH AND SING!!!”

I run back up the aisle and start laughing, I sit down and start singing, oddly enough the old Coca Cola song, “I’d like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony.” It starts out quietly, hesitant, but the song and the laugh catch on. The singing spreads around the room and builds to a roar of laughter and joy and the zombies stop. They get a confused look on their face and their blank stares turn into a look of recognition. The zombies come back to life and join in the chorus. Through the laughter and the song they are reminded of their humanity and join the living.

People who have been dead are alive again, joyous and singing and suddenly there is a full orchestra and choir and I’m introducing the fabulous “Ms. Fitzgerald.” I have a brain fart in the middle of my dream and can’t remember her name so I call her “The fabulous Gwen Fitzgerald!” I am overjoyed because now there is nothing to fear, the zombies have been cured and I wake up with a smile and a name on my lips:

“ELLA!” It’s Ella Fitzgerald singing.

I woke up feeling - not knowing - the meaning of the dream converge on me like a wave. Am I living in a zombie nation, where people are already dead and don’t know it? Because they kowtow to the ‘powers that be’ simply because they are the ‘authority’, the moral majority or whatever it is they call themselves these days? You know, the people who know how you’re supposed to live, how to talk, when to talk, who to talk to? Who, if you don’t abide by their unwritten, unspoken rules are somehow deviant and weird, crazy, psycho, etc.

So what if I laugh a little too loud? So what if I have an ear worm every five minutes? So what if I burst out into song now and then? So what if I’m not your average everyday bore? So what if I’m ‘different’?

I’m alive and I won’t pretend otherwise.

Suicide Dream

2011-01-19T10:31:00.001-06:00

I went to bed last night tired but ebullient. 2011 is starting out well for me and I have only the most positive outlook. Considering what an incredible challenge 2010 was for me, that’s an incredible statement for me to make. So when I woke up from one of the most incredibly vivid dream I’ve had in years, it shook me.

A few days ago, I had an idea for a new story; actually it was a TV show about fraternal twins. Now, I don’t know where that came from because I am not a twin and I have the same passing curiosity for twins as the next person, but nothing more.

Last night my dream began in medias res, as dreams often do. I was a fraternal twin but I was the male twin! Something had happened to my sister twin and I was devastated. I’m only assuming she had died because the sorrow was unceasing.

So in the dream, I decide to take my own life. I have a number of sleeping pills and I take them. But somehow I know that from the time I take the pills, I have time to sit, compose my final thoughts to say good bye. As I try to gather my thoughts, I reach for a folder on my desk, there is paperwork and something that looks like a newsletter, I can’t remember. But whatever they are, they set off a melody of memories in my dream self’s consciousness. And my life replays in my head.

Suddenly I am faced with the unexpected realization that my life was filled with small quiet moments of joy and bliss. There were memories of people who slipped through the cracks of my life but left a semblance of grace and warmth. Moments of grace that I did not recognize at the time I was living through them. But only in hindsight did I see all the things I had missed and realized that life could always be more than just the pain and sorrow that I felt and if I had just hung on a little longer, the hindsight would have come.

But for my dream self, it was too late. I had taken the pills and my eyesight was starting to darken. I knew I didn’t have as much time as I thought I had, I realized in a panic, I did not want to die. I wanted to live because I saw that the joy was there, I just had to look. But as I panicked, I knew it was too late, my dream self was dying and my eyesight faded away and I died.

I died in my sleep and I woke up gasping. Relief flooded through me like an immersion into warmth, I was alive and it was all a dream. But what was the morale of the dream?

Life is a mosaic of emotions, riotous moments of unexpected joy, inexplicable anger, unbelievable love and a multitude of intangibles that made life worth living. When we only stare at the dark colors of grief and sorrow, we miss out on the bright colors of joy and love. We must step back and allow the picture to evolve into the landscape of our lives. With each color providing the depth to our existence, each color having its place and adding meaning to our lives.

But what was the meaning for me? I’m not suicidal; I’m too stubborn to ever admit that kind of defeat?! Then it dawned on me, I was close to giving up on something I loved, but for all the frustrating moments I’ve had, there were moments of giggles and laughter that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. I was about to hang up my sword and relinquish my general duties. The dream told me, not just yet.

Winter is the graceless season.

2011-01-05T15:47:00.001-06:00

Those of us who labor under wintry skies know that to truly be warm, one must dress in layers. There must be an undershirt, thermal pants, a shirt, a sweater and for me, a hoodie then my coat. Actually I don’t have an actual winter coat; I just have a thick jacket that I bought in Vegas for $20. It’s thick, made of some strange fake velour and I’m happy with it. I don’t like to spend money on outerwear; it’s the optimist in me. Winter will only be three months, why buy clothes that I can only wear for brief time? So I have a baseball-type jacket which I can wear for several months, fall, winter or spring. I add a thick hoodie in the winter for added insulation.

I bring this up because by the time I get out for the day, I feel like a bumbling, stuffed sausage. Sometimes, if it’s really cold, I wear double socks; don’t laugh until you’ve walked in my shoes. That’s where the gracelessness begins.

How do you swing your arms in careless abandon as you walk down the street feeling the sunshine on your face? Your arms are in a permanent position of being stretched out, bending them is a feat of strength and the only thing exposed to the sun, if you have sun that morning, are your eyeballs.

I have a knitted sweater hat (handmade by mom) that is itchy and scratchy and makes me look like I have a really big afro hair do with no forehead or eyebrows. The hood comes over that and the scarf that has stretched out to 4ft long (It’s my homage to Doctor Who-although it isn’t multicolored) wraps around my neck twice. Effectively cutting the range of motion for my neck, with the hood narrowing my peripheral vision, when I turn to glance around me, my shoulders have to rotate completely. It’s a bitch when I drive. When I drive, whatever freedom of movement I could pretend I had is effectively taken from me.

So inevitably, when I get out of my car, I do my version of ‘spilling out’ I open the door, release the seatbelt and roll sideways in a 360°. When I am on both my feet, I am facing the back of my car, as if that’s exactly how I wanted to be. Two days in a row, I have caught my seemingly growing scarf in the seat belt and any movement to straighten out jerks me back towards my car as if I’ve just been clotheslined.

Then as I grab my things and stumble in the parking lot, spinning around to make sure no one saw me, I have to watch the ice patches or I will do a double back flip and an inadvertent roundhouse flying kick that results in my landing spectacularly on my back. Which I have done before as someone (a stranger) who was heading towards me, simply walked over me as I flailed like a turtle stuck on its shell. At that time, I had on a backpack full of books which cushioned any actual physical damage. Then it took some tries to get back up before anyone else saw and try to regain my dignity.

Winter is a graceless season where one learns that embarrassment is one snow boot away.

Happy Hollydays

2010-12-24T19:13:00.000-06:00

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a laptop was on, they even unplugged the mouse.

Their wish lists was posted in the blogosphere

Knowing that Santa would read it with care.

The rugrats were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of iPods danced in their heads.

With mom in her flannel and dad in his shorts

While the house filled with snoring reports.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter

Dad sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Someone was tangled over the Christmas display

A fat man in red with eight reindeer and a sleigh!

The fat man moved fast for someone his size

Untangled himself and disappeared with surprise

Santa had arrived, landing on the roof

Bringing incontrovertible proof.

He was chubby and plump, with a big round belly

That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

So dad took the cookies & milk and hid them away

Obesity is pandemic and wasn’t okay.

He had all sorts of presents and left them with glee

iPhones, iPads, and Blu-Ray DVDs

And laying his finger aside of his nose

And giving a nod, out the window he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle

And away they all flew like a heat seeking missile

But I heard his exclaim, ‘ ere he drove out of sight,

“Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night!”

Silent Realization

2010-12-13T21:04:00.000-06:00

I found this old photo and I looked at the child I used to be and I remembered. I have a hole in my heart, an intangible something missing inside me. As a child, I knew it instinctively. I looked at the world through big, dark, melancholy eyes.

I listened to the world around me, a perfect child; I spoke only when spoken too, seen but not heard. But my mind roiled in poignant observations. The silent accusatory look to the nurse who promised me the shot wouldn’t hurt. The sheer indignation when my nanny slipped me a lump of coal when I was a child, because I didn’t deserve a lump of coal. I was a good girl! But I held my tongue, nanny always knew me better than anyone else, ever. Perhaps she saw into my quiet silences and saw the potential mischief in my eyes.

Then I grew older, left my nanny and my childhood behind. The painful battle with puberty that seemed to turn that missing piece into a large gaping black hole of deep, inconsolable grief left me weak with doubt. Then adulthood, when I learned that perhaps I could fill the hole with fair weather friends, loose morals, cheap liquor and fast cars. I threw bits and pieces of hearts and lives that I touched and left. Mad moments of sheer abandon, poor judgment and bad mistakes.

Now, I find that I have silently, subconsciously, filled the hole with a hardened cement of sour grief and ashes of regrets.

If I could, I would break the cement and drain the grief, to find room for the love I have missed.

First Snow

2010-12-04T19:27:00.000-06:00

First snow arrived

With its chill of winter frost

While Summer's last rose

Bends her head and weeps

Just The Way She Is

2010-11-18T20:26:00.001-06:00

I’ve started listening to this song by Bruno Mars called “Just The Way You Are” and I’ve noticed that my friends don’t like it because 1)it’s horribly sappy 2)It’s patronizing to women.

I can’t disagree with the sappy description, it is sappy. But isn’t ‘sappy’ a requirement for a love song? I like the silly song; it doesn’t make me think too hard. When I hear the song, its upbeat tune shakes up the grey doldrums of my day. The chorus is:

“When I see your face, there’s not a thing that I would change, cuz you’re amazing, just the way you are. And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while, cuz girl you’re amazing just the way you are!”

Now the patronizing accusation is based on someone saying, that he’s singing about a very insecure woman and by extension, all women. I can’t assume to know what the songwriter was thinking when he wrote the song. I really don’t care; this is a cute little ditty that by next year this time I will have forgotten.

I like the chorus, because I know of one particular woman who fits the description of being beautiful with a smile that can stop the world turning on its axis (that’s a whole other story). But the more I thought about it, I can’t really agree that it’s a patronizing song, I over analyzed and came up with this hypothesis.

We live in a culture where young teen girls are considering plastic surgery to enhance their features, but to what end? Is every teenage girl going to be a movie star? Do they all need to look like one? Why? Are th

ey doing it with the hopes that boys will like them more or because they need to like themselves more?

When considered under that premise, can’t we just enjoy a boy telling a girl that he thinks she perfect just the way she is?

Birth

2010-10-26T20:40:00.000-05:00

Into this world we are born, a wailing ball of detritus. We scream our fury; instinctively we know the fight before us. Do we challenge the fates then, with our wrinkly balled little fists? Or do we scream in frustration, only knowing hope as we learn the ropes of despair? Do we instinctively know that we are born alone, live alone, die alone and bemoan our destiny? Or is the scream one of anger and challenge, denying the darkness?

When we open our eyes, did we greet it with wondering awe or cold, angry disdain? Or are our eyes fresh sponges, waiting to absorb everything it sees? When does the spark of innocence in our eyes turn to blazing flames of passion? When does the passion slow to embers before it fades away?

I've been told I was born with an 'old soul', do my eyes look as if they have already seen too much after a day of life?

Shadow

2010-09-25T02:51:00.000-05:00

The reason we sleep at night is to allow our brains to rest, our minds to stop and our hearts to lie still. So when we stay past the stroke of midnight, the darkness starts to seep into the crevices of your heart and the madness begins.

The things you hide in the light of day return to consume you. The doubts, the fears grow with every waking moment that slowly gives way to the fatigue. But you struggle against that inevitable sleep. Your mind refuses to yield, your heart grows weary and the brain stops being logical.

There’s no one to tell you it will be all right, there’s no one you believe can make things right and you rue the day of your birth because every moment has been nothing but a lingering agony. Life is not a gift, it’s a curse and you drown in your self-pity.

You give in to those dark moments when everything seems bleak and hopeless. As if tomorrow the sun will never shine, the future is just another looming abyss and you wonder if to jump means not because you want to fly, but because you want to die.

Your mind wanders across great stretches of emptiness, as you heart sheds its final tear and you become just another shadow, waiting to disappear.

Fighting the Doubts

2010-09-05T13:56:00.000-05:00

Tear streaked windows, lashed by the early autumn storms; the road is slick beneath me. Twisting lonely roads slip by as ribbons of grey in a canvas of black night. I hazard to rush, the night slips from me, a slicked down flash of lightening. I flee into the night, searching for my destination. A turn, a curve, each mile an adventure of shadows and unknowns; it is deception and darkness.

Suddenly a turn opens into an expanse of wide, roaring surf and I’m buffeted by winds that snap angrily. I am rocked in my perspective and I must stop and pay homage to the majesty that is nature and all her surprises.

I stop in that moment, pondering the night, wondering where to proceed next. Each stop is simply a destination, a temporary respite. But where is my goal? Where am I supposed to be tonight, tomorrow, next week or for the rest of my life?

Last night, I dismiss the doubts; in my numbed state of fatigue hoping the morning will find my sorrow alleviated and my hopes restored. Yet the bright sun of the morning glistens and bounces off dappled diamond sparkles amidst the leaves on the trees. The sun’s brilliance reflected on the surface of the lake. The beauty takes my breath away but just as quickly, the dark clouds of doubt rush back and beat upon my battered soul.

Life is fleeting, traces erase easily, but make your mark upon the shifting sands of time and know, every moment, how ever brief is worthy of song and celebration.

I will fight fiercely to find joy even if the fight never ends. Even if the moments are just fragments, sparse and small. I will piece together a mosaic of joy and happiness, imperfect, unfinished, but mine!

End of the Rainbow

2010-09-01T20:05:00.000-05:00

Sometimes when in the depths of some of the worse times that you think you can bear, it’s hopeful to remember that sometimes someone else can see something that you can’t, while you are living in your nightmare. Sometimes they can see the rainbow that follows you.

Do they know they are at the end of the rainbow? That they are the pot of gold?

Whisper Tree

2010-08-27T23:09:00.000-05:00

In the Philippines, my cousin told me that it is customary when you have a very bad dream that you would never want to come true, you have to whisper the dream to a tree. You can’t tell another person because it might come true, but you can whisper it to a tree who will keep your secret. Then once you’ve told the tree, you can walk away content that the dream has been released to the tree and will never come true.

But what do you do when you aren’t dreaming but you are actually living your nightmares? Where can you go when you are on the verge of being diminished, disdained and discarded? When all that you hold precious and beloved is kept from you?

Professionally and personally, my life seems to be on the verge of imploding. Now my laptop, my big Huey is on the verge of dying on me again, this time permanently. Even my electronic devices are on the verge of abandoning me.

The Florida Keys

I have to find my whisper tree.

Pain Interrupted

2010-08-26T23:05:00.000-05:00

Does anyone else feel that in the depths of our despair there is this keen, thin, strand of hope that pierces the darkness like a stiletto? It’s a thin, fine line that can get through the tightest spot. It’s a keen high C in a roomful of dull hums.

When I’m in physical pain, I imagine I’m surrounded by a raging storm. Where should you go when you are caught in a storm? Search for the calm at the center of the storm. I have been in the center of a storm; there is a preternatural silence that stops your eardrums from thrumming, that you wonder if you’ve lost your hearing.

So when I’m caught in a pain storm, I dig straight into the pain and seek out the center. It’s a strange exercise that I used to do as a child. I ran into the pain, I fought it with a fearlessness that we are instinctively born with. I created a mantra:

“This does not touch me, I cannot feel the rain. I cannot feel the poison coursing through my veins.”

I’m reminded of it as I struggle with psychic pain, a far more difficult fight and not so easy to transmute. By psychic pain I mean an emotional toll that shakes our confidence, our ego and creates a dark struggle of self-doubt.

But even there, there is that thin line of hope. I may not be able to fight this storm, but perhaps I don’t have to, some storms just have to be endured. Like the proverbial sword, it’s strength, it’s sharpness, it’s endurance comes from its tempering in the fire and in the hammer blows.

I am a sword being tempered.

Connecting the Dots

2010-08-25T22:55:00.000-05:00

Monday night I had a dark dream.

I walked into a bank lobby. It was one of those old style banks, all marble and sharp echoes. The lobby was crowded with suits and high heels. I moved toward the line but I was blocked by two men, one of whom shouldered me aside. Then my sleeve got hooked on one of the men and I was caught up in their struggle over a black valise.

The man holding it was adamant about not letting go. Then he shouted “BOMB!”

I disentangled myself and walked away calmly as more men converged on the two struggling men. I didn’t panic, I didn’t run, I walked calmly. I was hoping to go unnoticed, not attract attention. It’s that walk all kids know, it’s the I’M-NOT-HERE-YOU-DON’T-SEE-ME walk. Trying to fly under the radar.

Then I heard a voice, in the dream I knew this voice was the boss.

Boss: Kill the witnesses.

Henchmen: How do we know who saw what?

Boss: Then kill them all. Calmly, coldly, the boss ordered our executions.

I was at the door, pushing the large brass doors and walking out into the sidewalk, my heart pounding as I heard the sound of more footsteps. Then the screams began, I didn’t hear gunshots, just the screams.

Then I turned into the next door’s alcove, hesitated before I pushed through that door and found myself at a train station. I pulled my transit card and burst past the turnstile. As I ran down the stairs to the train platform, a thought quickly ran through my head.

“If need be, I can go hide in Special Section, that’s beneath the train platform and requires a pass.”

As I started to wake from the dream another thought floated up with me through the dream.

“What if I can’t get out?”

Then I realized that my fear drove me underground, where I would be stuck if they found me. I had painted myself into a corner.

I woke from the dream at 445am. Not a good feeling.

Last night I caught up with last week’s “Royal Pains” and suddenly one of the characters tells another character, “…hating your job is no way to living your life…” I half-heartedly wondered if the universe was sending me messages through my TV. After all, what gets the most of my attention? The universe knows.

Then tonight, I caught up with “Rubicon” a strange little series about CIA analyst and their quirky job. It’s part Conspiracy Theory and as exciting as a chess game. But I watch it anyways. I was multi-tasking when suddenly a scene caught my ears and I was jolted.

Analyst: “Are you setting me up to fail?”

Boss: “There are two types of fear. There’s the type that makes us work harder, that drives us: we dig deeper. There’s the kind that makes my heart come up in my throat and make me – at the cost of my sanity, look for answers… That’s the good fear. The bad fear is the kind that makes us stop working, paralyzes us; makes us stay in bed all day and hide. Bad fear doesn’t make you a bad person. It just means you shouldn’t be working here”

Then the lightning struck me; the title of the episode was “Connect The Dots”

I connected the dots. I have to climb out of hiding - climb out of the dark tunnel I ran into and face my fears.

I want to run away

2010-08-14T23:17:00.001-05:00

I want to run away to a distant island in the sun. I want to hide in the idea that was once alive in Lakawon. I would swing leisurely in my hammock, let the breeze brush my hair and listen to the sound of the surf. My eyes blinded by the sun, the hot sand curling about my feet and the gentle whispers of the coconut trees swaying. I want to savor my solitude.

There, I would cease to hear the soft sobbing of my broken heart.

Millenium Ramblings

2010-08-07T17:46:00.000-05:00

Friday was a sultry night of slow sweat, a window fan that sounded like a plane on approach and my tinnitus that decided it was going to practice its scales. So rather than toss and turn, I sat up and reached for the final book in Stieg Larsson’s Millenium Trilogy, “The Girl Who Kicked A Hornet’s Nest”.

When I first read “The Girl With The Dragon” I knew; that as Hollywood is trying to cast the American version of this movie, I wanted to see Natalie Portman play Lisbeth Salanger. After all, isn’t Lisbeth just the grown up version of Mathilde from her movie “The Professional”? I don’t know about Daniel Craig as Mikael Blomquist, simply because Craig is too lean, too …James Bond. Blomquist is an “everyman” I can’t see Craig in that role, unless he packs some pounds on so he looks more like a middle-aged man.

Then I immediately thought how PERFECT Lauren Holly would be as Erika Berger, the Editor in Chief of the Millenium magazine, friend and some time lover of Mikael Blomquist. She plays smart, sexy and classy very well. Berger’s story is integral to who Blomquist is and I was disappointed that the Swedish version chose to cut most of Berger’s story. But the final book has a very juicy side story for Berger and I would love to see Lauren Holly sink her teeth into that role.

Today, I saw the Swedish movie version of the “Dragon”, the movie like the book was slow to start and over 2hrs long. Unfortunately, I couldn’t watch the movie w/o referencing the book, which obscures any thought of being objective on the merits of the movie alone.

But if anyone gets the chance, I would definitely recommend reading all 3 books. The 1st book was slow & despite having a murder mystery, to me a purely expository novel to introduce us to Mikael, Lisbeth(the ‘Girl’) and Erika, the three main characters that appear in all the books. It is slow and bears the atmospheric ambiance of an Ingmar Bergman movie.

The 2^nd book is more of an action thriller. I couldn’t read this book fast enough. This starts with a murder and ends with attempted murders. This movie would be a more of a Christopher Dolan action movie, Jason Bourne, except with a girl kicking some ass!

The 3^rd book is almost like two books. The 1^st half of the book is an exposition of Swedish law and political history, but it sets the stage for ending of the story. The last half is straight out of a courtroom drama, a Joel Schumacher touch, similar to how he directed “The Client”.

I know this isn’t much of a book review, but I spent all night reading “Hornet’s” and didn’t sleep until 9am this morning. Then I woke up and watched the ‘Dragon’ movie. Books, movies, reality and distorted dreams have made me a bit of a confused mess today, so excuse my ramblings.

Canadian Countryside Farm

2010-08-03T20:43:00.000-05:00

I took this back in Oct 2003. I still had a Nikon SLR camera. I was on the 401. I was driving in from Montreal, heading to Toronto when I saw this sign for a cheese factory. I can't remember the name of the town/village nor the cheese factory. I've researched the internet but none of the listings look right. I've been back there since, in the spring of 2006. I took a picture with the trees full of leaves. It looked the same. But oddly, I've misplaced that photograph.

I'd like to take a picture of this same place but during each season. So I need to see it in summer, fall and spring again.

It was a strange photograph, it was at the beginning of my roll, so it took me a while to finish it, so it wasn't until after the new year 2004 that I had the roll developed. When I pulled the photo from the stack, I was stunned.

I couldn't remember taking this picture. I stood stock still, scanning my memory until I reminded myself that I did take this picture. To handle the photograph was surreal because to me it looks like a Monet painting. But it's a real farm.

Perhaps the cheese factory is closed. It was a very small clustering of buildings. Both times I arrived late in the afternoon, just barely in time to pick up some cheese curds before hitting the road and heading to Toronto.

As I recall, I was heading west on the 401. I exited northbound, and kept heading north for a bit before I turn back east on a small country road. Then a few minutes later there was a cluster of houses, buildings, a very small concrete bridge and the cheese factory was on the north side of the road.

This farm is on the south side of the road and I took the photo from the bridge. Anyone know where this is or even just the exit number?

Twilight Moon

2010-07-28T20:34:00.000-05:00

There is some something perfect about a circle. There is no beginning, no end and no middle. A full moon is beautiful, bright and serene with all the incipient hope it engenders just by its magnificent silence.

Here the day sheds itself of sunlight as the mountains begin to wrap themselves in shadows. It is a slow lingering sigh escaping from a long held breath of anticipation.

I cannot fear the night, not while the old man on the moon stands sentinel.

Full Moon Risen

2010-07-26T23:04:00.001-05:00

I promised myself that I would drive into the lonely desert, lie beneath a carpet of stars and lose myself into the universe. I wanted to fall into the spaces in between and find myself renewed, invigorated and inspired with a clarity I have known only a few times in my life.

I hadn’t counted on the full moon usurping the sky and taking the night hostage. I had wanted to see a shooting star streak across the sky and grant me a wish. I never saw the shooting star, I never made my wish.

Instead, I crawled across unknown roads, lit only by shadows and pale, silver moonlight. I glided into the side of the road and turned off all the lights in my car, lest I disturb whatever nocturnal fauna may be about.

Then I gazed in wide astonishment at the pale silver light that bathed the world in a strange glow of magic and mystery. To see the full moon; under a wide, desert sky is a sight to behold. I challenge everyone to see it at least once in their lifetime.

Under the cold uncaring glass eye of a digital camera, brought through thousands of miles, what I beheld with my eyes took on a whole new meaning. Suddenly, they weren’t simply Joshua trees in the moonlight, there were wood creatures bowing to a light in the sky. One looks like it’s caught in the middle of genuflecting to Mistress Moon, while others look undaunted and unyielding.

It was creepy, but there was no malevolence in the air, just the sweet smell of night and the strange sounds of darkness.

Tokyo Tea

2010-07-22T03:39:00.000-05:00

Sitting in the Diamond Club of the Planet Hollywood casino, I overheard a woman order a Tokyo tea. Its a long island ice tea, but the coke is replaced with Midori, which basically makes it 90% alcohol. I order the same thing. We chat about it, she is effusive in her delight over this drink.

It is dangerously refreshing and at first sip, you want to just suck it up in a straw because you don't taste the alcohol, immediately. Instead after only the first few sips, you are suddenly infused with alcohol. This is not a drink to play with, I sip carefully. You'll notice the tartness, it's at first refreshing, then can become overpowering. I think it's my body's way of telling me to stop drinking before I have a stroke.

The difficult part of being in Vegas is the fact that alcohol flows freely, it's a spigot that can't be stopped. I asked why would the casino's what a bunch of drunk fools? Because Vegas is about the release of inhibitions, alcoholic imbibing is the handiest tool. You won't notice that you have just lost a month's worth of salary in a penny slot.

I am suddenly overcome with fatigue, or is it the Tokyo tea sneaking up on me?

Midnight Sun

2010-07-18T20:48:00.000-05:00

The midnight sun shines over the calm sea. The darkness bows before the radiance, while I’m stunned into silent awe. What majesty the moon displays, achingly in the presence of such solitude.

Is it fancy that divides our day and night? Is it fantasy that we are guided by a solitary heavenly body? The Sun chases the shy Moon who turns her face in that never ending dance, that lights the sky eternally.

My Brother's Garden

2010-06-21T22:33:00.000-05:00

I hate to admit it, but there must be a green thumb handed down in my family. I don't have it. But then again, I don't have a garden. Father's Day was spent at my brother's house and I went rambling into his garden and got these very pretty shots. If you take the time to look, you will find beauty anywhere.

Detritus

2010-06-13T21:18:00.000-05:00

Pockets filled ~

With daily reminders ~

Without which ~

I would feel incomplete

Detritus of my day ~

Stop, Look and Listen

2010-06-10T21:32:00.000-05:00

Stop:

I’ve heard of the saying, “…stop and smell the roses…” said in a most unctuous, grating voice. In the mood I’ve been lately, Evil Me screams “You know where you can shove those roses right?”

As I was driving today, I had this small epiphany.

Happiness makes you glow, anger makes you burn. But both give off light and energy. It’s what you do with that light and energy that matters.

Look:

So for lunch I left the building and strolled around the grounds and I just ‘looked’. I left through the basement and although I’ve climbed these same stairs for almost 7 years, I looked up and it looked so different. Dark, narrow and steep stairs but after the climb: bright blue sky.

These building companies spend so much money on the landscaping, it is a shame to ignore it.

If I close my eyes and narrow my focus, it’s as if I’m out in the country again!

Listen:

I said a prayer this morning:

“Lord, succor my soul as I swallow my anger and help me remain inviolate. Remind me of my self-respect and I will get through today.”

A moment came around 10am when God answered my prayers and although I wasn’t conscious of his blessing, I said things I needed to say and I remembered my self-respect, so I got through today. God always hears the prayers, we just have to make sure we’re listening when he answers.

A Day in the Country

2010-06-08T22:03:00.000-05:00

When I first dived into Twitter, I never expected it to take me to places I’d never been to. A year after joining the twitterverse, I was generously invited to visit someone at their farm. At first I thought they were just being polite, but they convinced me of their sincerity. And I think it gets pretty obvious on Twitter just how sincere or insincere people can be.

I’m experiencing some “unpleasantness” in my life, lots of introspection because I feel the need to re-prioritize my life. Some strong incentives to make decisions or have the decisions made for me. My basic reaction is to flee.

So I grabbed my two oldest nieces, we hit the road and ended up visiting Beverly. Beverly has been one of my longer standing twitter friends. She’d always struck me as sincere, pleasant and her being a poet just sealed the deal for me. I followed her and never ever regretted it. From the moment we exchanged pleasantries, I always felt comfortable and safe with her. So when she invited me for a visit, how could I not accept?

She showed us her farm complete with a big red barn. My nieces thought they were going to milk cows, feed the chickens and collect eggs. That’s what every city slicker thinks when they think of a farm.

We headed out for our road trip on Friday night. Here are just a few reasons why I love road trips, sunsets, rainbows and windmills.

We saw this beautiful red barn.

In the hay loft where these little, hissing, baby vultures, big bad mama bird flew over the barn and we heard her settle on the roof, but she was too fast to catch on camera.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so I leave you to the sights of our trip to the country to visit my friend Beverly. My 12yr old niece said, "You guys talk a lot." I looked at her and asked. "And you don't walk around your house with your phone glued to your ear talking to your friends?" She looked at me sheepishly and we smiled.

Thank you Beverly, a day in the country was just what I needed!

My Mother's Garden

2010-06-07T21:10:00.001-05:00

My parents love to garden, it's both my dad and my mom who spend hours gardening, but like the house, it's called Nana's house so, I called it my mom's garden.

Then there's the odd mini banana tree in a pot. My mom's green thumb nurses a piece of home.

Pink Peony

2010-06-03T21:20:00.000-05:00

Gossamer petals ~

Beauty in the sun ~

Basking in the fading light ~

Belying mournful ~

Shadow heart ~

June 3, 2010

Mike's

2010-05-20T18:23:00.000-05:00

Keys hang forlornly
Patiently awaiting care
Mechanic's Work Day

Waiting

2010-05-19T21:22:00.000-05:00

Waiting alone

Leaning

Minutes

Slowingly

Pass

Counting time

Stealing

Moments

Meaning

Less

Soundtrack

THANK YOU, JILL HENNESSY!

2010-05-17T21:33:00.003-05:00

May 16, 2010

I had no preconceived notions about what I would hear when I went to Lincoln Hall on Sunday night. I went because I could, because a night out with friends, dinner, cocktails and live music is always better than sitting around watching TV; dreading Monday morning .

It’s a nice, intimate venue. You walk inside and there is a bar and a few tables. They serve drinks and dinner. The big doors that bookend the bar led into the performance area. It probably seats 50 people comfortably. You walk in and there is a DJ booth that shares the wall with the bar. A few steps lead you down to the main floor that faces a small stage. The floor was lined neatly with rows of resin folding chairs. The show didn’t start until 8pm but my friends, knew to gravitate to the front row. We were a trio that usurped 4 chairs.

We had been told that the opening act would be Rachele Eve, she would start at 8pm and Jill Hennessy (the headliner) would start at 915pm. I’ve been to indie sets before, when as many as 6 bands would play in one night, each partitioned to start as soon as the first group finished. The art of putting up and taking down equipment never equaled enough time to keep a schedule precisely finished.

We were sitting at the front row by 730pm, by the time 755pm came along, I was well into my 2^nd drink. I had a Stella Artois with dinner and now I followed with a Long Island Iced Tea. I stepped out at 755pm and made my way to the restrooms.

Talking to my server; stood Jill Hennessy. I didn’t even see her face, all I saw was the massive hair on her shoulders and stopped, then I heard her voice speaking and I knew. Here stood Claire Kincaid, Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh, the actor who played these characters on shows I had watched and thoroughly enjoyed for several years!

I stood close, but not threatening, she had her back to me, but I did want to say something to her. I had gotten a tweet on Friday from a twitter friend who told me about Jill’s concert, I made a few phone calls and before I left work on Friday, I had bought tickets. Jill had tweeted:

Chicagoland here I come! And I ain't to proud to beg... PLEASE come to my gig @lincolnhall THIS Sunday May 16th at 8PM

As she turned, I asked tentatively, my hand inches from her elbow. “Jill?” She turned to me, said “Yes” and gave me a 100watt smile. She took my hand still in mid air and we shook hands. We talked about her tweet, she thanked me for coming. I asked if she was selling the CD she said yes, as well as T-shirts and she promised she’d sign anything. I told her I looked forward to it. Then I asked to be photographed with her. I pulled out my iPhone and the server took our photo. Jill was so sweet to pose, jamming her face close to mine. I think it’s an instinctual move, we see this small tiny thing and we just naturally jam our faces together because we think it’s not going to be able to fit. I notice that when someone pulls out a cell phone, we all do it. It was just a bit unnerving to be doing it with a celebrity. Taking a picture I mean.

Then in my nervous habit of saying too much, I turned to her and gushed. “You’re so pretty and so very skinny! You need a sandwich!” I barked at her. She looked a bit stunned, she smiled, but thinking of it now, I know I had my foot firmly implanted in my mouth.

“A sandwich?” She asked. I, playing the nincompoop very well, nodded moronically and repeated my comment of how skinny she was. Don’t all actors, models and pretty people love being told they look skinny? Again, it’s a size 10 hanging out of my jaw.

She laughed, said how she can’t eat before a performance because, when you eat, you can’t control your muscles and less lung strength, etc. Something that sort of made sense to me, not being a singer, but I knew enough to know, I needed to shut up and let the woman go.

I ran back regaled my friends with my stupidity and settled down for the opening act.

Rachele Eve played an acoustic guitar, another guy played an electric guitar and another guy who sat on what looked like a wooden box drum, called a cajon, a Cuban box drum. They reminded me of a Corinne Rae Bailey, my friend said Norah Jones. She sang with a sweet voice, I’m no expert of music, I just know what I like. Her set was about 45-50mins long. I enjoyed their music, listening to her sing was like enjoying a sweet, sunny, summer afternoon, lingering in a bucolic moment of careless relaxation. It reminded me of childhood afternoons when I was made to take naps and the breeze blew the lace curtains to and fro, mesmerizing a child into slumber.

She left to enthusiastic applause. The small audience had started to swell. I had ordered a 2^nd Long Island iced tea a few minutes after she had started singing. But before Jill Hennessy’s set began, I had order my 3^rd iced tea and my 4^th alcoholic drink for the night. I’m trying to set up the rest of the night.

Listening to Rachele Eve was like listening to the afternoon, then Jill Hennessey came in and descended like night, she was all the midnight moments of questioning moments, dark doubts and reflective regrets. She was beautiful, articulate, engaging, she spoke to the audience, at ease and unabashed.

Then she sang stories of struggle, grief, heartache and regret. I was a bit stunned. This was no dilettante actress foraging through musical terrain. This was a musician who knew how to act. She dominated the stage with her personal charisma and her voice that echoed the pain of the stories she told. She stroked an acoustic guitar accompanied by Robbie Gjersoe on a slide guitar. It was sparse but beautiful

I really hope you, dear reader, will take the time to listen to her songs, she is now listed as singer-songwriter rather than actress. I did no homework prior to seeing her live, I would rather be surprised. But now I sift through the internet and find numerous listings of her performances and wonder, "Where the hell have I been?"

This is Jill holding up notes she was given, reminding her to mention that she would be selling CDs and had T-shirts for sale and she would be signing autographs.

The crowd had grown to a full room. We were also loud and boisterous but Jill seemed to enjoy it. I won’t try to describe what I heard, song by song. But I’ll say this, I know how to hold my digital camera steady as it video recorded Jill and my left hand tweeting sound snippets. I was a multi-tasking fool! But I wanted to share the moment and garner Jill some attention.

Here she is singing "Slow Down" a song she wrote for her son.

I must apologize, my digital camera is closing in on 4yrs old, in the tech world, that is geriatric, so the sound & quality of the videos might be a bit off.

Listen to Jill cover Springsteen's "Thunder Road"

After the show Jill stood in an alcove just off the front door of Lincoln Hall, a small table in front of her and a T-shirt hanging on the wall behind her. There was already a line of people waiting to buy her CD, posing with her. I had joked that I wanted to see if she would allow me to interview her for my twitter friends. As if I were so damn special!! Four alcoholic drinks doen’t turn me into Maria Menounos.

I had my friends waiting for me, we also had work the next morning, but the wait wasn’t long. I should have taking the time to form some questions, but I didn’t, I was too damn excited to buy her CD. I handed off my digital camera to a friend, making sure the flash was set and told her which button to take.

When it was my turn, Jill looked at me and said “Hi Babe.” I was too happy! “Hello,” that little voice inside my head said “she just saw you sitting in the front row all night and you DID harass her before she went on stage. You’re lucky she’s being nice. And she probably calls everyone babe so STAND DOWN!”

I was a total nimrod.

I was trying to tell her that she should have more followers on twitter to help spread the word of her music. Instead I kept telling her I had more followers. What I meant to say was “I have more followers than you which doesn’t make sense.” And I wanted to say that I would tweet buzz up her music so people can hear her wonderful talent. Instead, with the late night and the crush of people it came out twice “I have more followers than you…” Then I got cut off and Jill looks at my friends and said laughingly “And she had to tell me twice!” My friends are now laughing at me, which actually encourages me more, oddly enough.

I buy two CDs, one for myself and one for Tamara, my twitter friend who told me about this in the first place. I pose for another photo w/Jill, this time with a flash so that you can actually see it’s her! Then I tell her I want to do a twitter interview. The iPhone app I use is Twitbird, the free app let’s me tweet audio. You can listen to the ‘interview’. I sound bossy but obviously don’t have a clue. I never really asked her a question, I just directed her. Take a quick listen, here . She must think I'm a boob.

Then as she signed & dedicated the CDs, I dialed Tamara’s phone, then instead of asking Jill if she would mind, I jammed the phone to her ear! She asked “What’s that?” I said it’s my friend, to whom she had just dedicated a CD. “She’s not answering, so just leave her a voicemail.” Again, never asking, I just took.

*hanging my head in shame*

Jill thanked me endlessly for coming, wished me well. I just stood and grinned like a buffoon, basking in her attention. Then I walked away. I don’t think I ever thanked her for a really great night of music. It also drew my friends and I closer, allowing us to spend time with each other without the restless clamor of a workday pace.

So, in a belated attempt to champion Jill’s music and more importantly to thank her, I dedicate this post to Jill Hennessy, may she find more stories to tell, get the recognition she deserves and most of all, may she be happy in all her endeavors.

Thank you, Babe!

A Sunny Sunday Afternoon

2010-05-09T21:05:00.000-05:00

Mother's Day May 9, 2010

It wasn't the stereotypical Mother's Day like past years. There wasn't the crazy dress up, there wasn't the expensive restaurant. It was a quiet afternoon with family, kids running around, screaming in full decibels and the grill going.

The sky was a deep blue marble, clouds of powder puff perfection crossed lazily across the afternoon sky. And nothing sets off my poetic waxing better than beauty. Especially when beauty is found unexpectedly.

A dancing duet
Dark purple and yellow smiles
Rainy days' rewards

Inconsequential
Butterfly camouflaging
Shy petal blooming

Random Poetic Tweets

2010-05-02T00:47:00.000-05:00

My avarice runs to the silver in your eyes, the gold of your hair and the priceless moments of your time. 30 January 2010

I have no pride, I beg to youraltruistic side. One kiss is all I need, I'll lie, borrow and plead. 07 February 2010

You peregrinate across the borders of my heart and your footsteps echo in my head as your stilleto heels cleave my soul. 26 February 2010

Your arms are spread above your disheveled head as you lie tangled with me in bed. 27 March 2010

A panoply of pursuers of profligate personifications of perfection; paparazzi. 06 April 2010

Brusque replies will earn you a taciturn, acid look. Brusque eyes and taciturn lips makes you a tart. 13 April 2010

Serendipity caused my heart to catch in my mouth just as you kissed me. 15 April 2010

I wizen my heart when you stole away in silence. 16 April 2010

Stony silences and acid looks; the effluvium of a broken heart. 21 April 2010

Upon gazing on your form,wanderlust ignites to roam upon your mountain peaks and misty valleys. 30 April 2010

Heartbreaker: A roving eye, a quick smile and a glib tongue. 01 May 2010

Haiku

2010-05-02T00:14:00.003-05:00

Encouraging words / Voting appreciation / We're incognito 10 February 2010
Chatoyant eyes gleam / A final tear cascades / A broken heart fades. 12 February 2010
Sweet adoration / Love that hides in shadows /Pusillanimous 16 February 2010
Abandoned by words / Destroyed by fierce obloquy / Bereft of language 08 April 2010

Morning sun brightly / Bashful Magnolia buds wake / Winter nemesis 10 April 2010

My cold coffee eyes / Hiding tears stilled by silence / Lost taciturn heart 12 April 2010
I signal my love / Taciturn heart unhearing / Unread messages 12 April 2010
Surrendered today / A moment's indecision /Taciturn divide 12 April 2010
Tenderness turned to /Taciturn tactics testing / Truelove's temperance 12 April 2010

Unheard prayer sighed / Seawater taciturn eyes / Unrequited love 12 April 2010

Empty Afternoon

2010-04-28T14:23:00.003-05:00

A distant beat:

The thud of broken speakers

A distant wail:

Brake pads need repair

A distant horn:

Angry motorist weaving

A distant slam:

The door signals you’re gone

A nearby creak:

Floorboards complaining

A nearby tock:

The day is leaving

A nearby tick:

Inevitabilities ignored

A nearby splash:

A single tear falling

Slowly:

The water’s draining

Slowly:

The curtain waves

Slowly:

The traffic stops

Slowly:

The night bleeds in.

W.H. Auden

2010-04-23T21:53:00.002-05:00

A friend showed me this poem the other day. She said she had it for many years and just recently found it among her notes. She said she read it and immediately thought of me. I have never heard of the poem, but the minute I read it, I knew precisely what she meant. Reading it now, makes my heart skip a beat for the truth in his words.

THE MORE LOVING ONE

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

That, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be

Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am

Of stars that do not give a damn,

I cannot, now I see them, say

I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,

I should learn to look at an empty sky

And feel its total dark sublime,

Though this might take me a little time.

--W.H. Auden

The Edge of Never

2010-03-28T10:19:00.001-05:00

Every now and then you see something that touches you, as “The Blind Side” touched millions; I saw a documentary “The Edge of Never”.

From the website http://www.edgeofneverfilm.com/ :

A documentary feature film set in the world of big mountain skiing, The Edge of Never is a real-life coming of age saga about the tribe of skiers who challenge the biggest, most dangerous mountains in the world. In 1996 extreme-skiing legend Trevor Petersen was killed in Chamonix, France. Nine years later, skiing icon Glen Plake decides it’s time for Trevor’s 15-year-old son, Kye, to ski the route that killed his father and join the tribe of big-mountain skiers. In this thrilling film, three generations of skiers mentor Kye as he attempts to finish his father’s final run. A ripping adventure tale of a young man coming of age, The Edge of Never is also a rich and subtle portrait of men and women who live big in the face of their greatest fears. Written and directed by William A. Kerig, produced by Peter Schweitzer, based on the book of the same title written by Kerig, The Edge of Never was shot on location in Chamonix, France.

Kye meets his father’s mentor, Anselmo, who lost hist 24yr old son to the mountains. Kye is 15yrs but he is small and looks like he’s 10. I thought about how people have died and gotten hurt doing this. Despite the loss, the movie is about closure and acceptance.

What greater ambition is there to live and die doing what you love? What is life w/o risk? Without risk, there is no reward.

Sorrow is the same coin as joy. Without sorrow we couldn’t appreciate the joys in our lives. To understand and accept sorrow is to understand that the opposite of Love is not hate, it is apathy. We should always be passionate about something in our lives.

Watch the trailer

Day 18: Good Bye Hong Kong

2010-03-17T06:41:00.000-05:00

The day started foggy & rainy, I was pouting cuz it’s my last day & I wanted to go to the Peak. Well, it was still cloudy when I got to the HK side ferry terminal.

But I was too early for the Peak tram to start running, so I walked over to check out the Midlevel Elevators, huff & puffed since in the mornings the silly things only run down hill. But I had a fun ride coming down!

I loved this side street. The Flying Pan? Someone has a great sense of humor!

You catch the peak tram from the Star Ferry terminal and I headed up to the top again, this is the only double decker bus I saw that was open. By the time I got on, there was a break in the clouds and I kept praying that it held.

It held long enough to take a few pictures and since I'm flying out tonight, I ran down as soon as I was done taking a few pix, I can't post more because I have to leave soon. Enjoy the pix.

Here's the famous Peak Tram.

It's an awesome view and really changed my view of Hong Kong =D!

I tried to clean it up as best I could, trying to make the colors pop, but it's as good as it's going to get & it doesn't come close to showing the breathtaking beauty of a view from the Peak.

Caught him on his smoking break, I hope he didn't come up dragging someone behind him!

My final ride on the Star Ferry :-[

What a beautiful boat! I'd live it in! I think it's one of the tourist boats that ply the Harbour.

Lots of smells, lots of noise, on the Kowlooon side. I think this is called the Mongkok area. My hotels in the Tsim Sha Tsui area.

I couldn't tell you what it was they were serving, after almost 3 weeks in mainland China, I've had quite enough of mystery meat.

Instead I found a hole in the wall Thai restaurant. I sat down, he couldn't speak English or Mandarin, I couldn't speak Cantonese, so I dredged up my memories of conversational Thai that I had learned when I went to Bangkok and with a lot of pointing and grinning, I got some really good Thai food.

Hong Kong has lots of people, the videos are loud as loud can be. It also has this noise that sounds like tapping, when the light turns green it has a constant tap-tap-tap, but then it counts down and at 10secs left, its a really fast taptaptap. I get it, Nathan Road is a very busy street, buses, trucks, cars and the unbelievable mass of humanity. But the signal is really LOUD!

Then they drive on the left side here in HK. Someone actually grabbed my arm and yanked me back to the curb when I stepped off and was looking the wrong way so I almost got hit by a bus. When I looked back to thank the guy, I smile, he looked at me like I was an idiot, my smile fell and I felt like one.

This is Ladie's Market, the stalls open up in the afternoon and stays open until nighttime, I think. Anyways, the shopkeepers in Stanley Bay were all laid back and practically somnambulant compared with the shopkeepers at Ladies' Market.

I had finished my shopping so I was just doing a lot of sightseeing. When I shop at places like these, I try not to touch anything, touching it signals the seller that you are really interested. So I just meander about and look.

I actually got grabbed by the arm, when I tried to haggle on something and decided against buying it, the woman yelled at me as I walked away "You got no money no way." I was so shocked I had to bust out laughing! If only she knew!

I didn't stay, I had a hard time getting a cab when it started to rain hard, but I got one.

Well, it's time for me to leave Hong Kong, get back to Chicago. I will land in Chicago on Thursday, but on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, I will still be away from home because I have to attend a business convention that I thought I had gotten out of. But someone else who was supposed to go got this crazy flu so I was volunteered in absentia! No rest for the weary!

Day 17: Hello Stanley Bay!

2010-03-16T09:44:00.000-05:00

I'm so irritated with myself. I started the day, by being awake, didn't sleep last night. Probably because I was so wired AND trying too hard to relax. Sometimes things aren't what they seem and you wonder if you've been deluded. Then you wonder if you were awake or asleep. I should never be allowed near the internet or any other digitally inducing communication gadgets.

I finally went to bed just as the sky lightened, I slept too briefly but then I woke and remembered where I was, I smiled and jumped out of bed, purpose running through my veins.

I went downstairs to the China Hong Kong City, it’s a set of buildings that house the China Ferry terminal, a mall and my hotel. Instead of eating at the hotel restaurant, which is pricey, I went to the food court and got a large bbq pork dumpling and a cup hot coffee.

I could have easily gone down to street level just outside HK City and taken the bus that would have taken me all the way to Stanley Bay. Instead I took the walk down the street and entered Harbour City and cut through it.

This is just a random stair case that I saw and it looked so cool, I had to stop and take a picture.

When I came out of the mall, I was at the Star Ferry. I love water, whether rivers, ponds, lakes, but I obsess over the sea.

Old fashioned tugboat, against the Kowloon skyline.

This is the Hong Kong Island skyline.

After we dock at the terminal, I ask around to get to the Stanley Express bus. I'm told to just go across the street, the ticket vendor points across the parking lot where there are double decker buses. I thank him and walk.

I keep walking until I end up at the International Financial Center (IFC), I don't know what it is,but I go in and it's a mall. Ok. So I ask again and the info guide tells me to head for the MTR. Ok, I see the signs, it's a really nice looking mall, high end stuff, chrome, glass and marble.

I see the MTR signs and I follow it. But it takes me to underground trains. I'm all confused. I go back up to the mall level, find a uniformed guard who kindly walks me out of the mall and shows points out a set of bus terminals and tell me I can find my bus there.

I have been told by one of my host that when I go to Stanley Bay, I need make sure that I sit in the front seat, on the second level of the double decker bus. He said it was the most scenic ride, if I am not queasy about heights or movement, I would enjoy myself. As a matter of fact, I'm scared to death of heights, but how many times do I get to ride a double decker bus? The last time I was in Stanley Bay, I was driven up by my hosts. This time I was going to relax and have fun.

This is the famous Stanley market, the stereotypical stalls with goods piled one on top of each other, tight and closed in.

I woke up late so by the time I got here, it was closing in on almost 2pm.

I wanted what I wanted, even though the stalls selling food were really very tempting. But I had my mind set that I was going to eat at my favorite place, sit down and be served. No buffet, no fast food, no boiled peanuts!

I found my way to the waterfront, enjoy the pictures.

There are lots of nice little eateries, like I said, every thing you could want. But I had my heart set on something else. This is the Stanley waterfront.

Off to my left are these condos. How I wish I had that kind of money, so I could live in this beautiful island in a place with a view of the ocean.

There is a section that if you keep your back firmly turned, it's as if you were in a totally secluded island. It's beautiful and yes, I did scamper on the rocks like a 4yr old. Only I didn't fall, or crack my head or any part of my body on the jagged rocks. I just enjoyed letting my inner child romp.

But eventually, I have to turn around and from the rocks this is what I see. Another view of the Stanley waterfront. Look closely at the hill behind the buildings. There is a small path that leads to the top. I wish I had the time, I would definitely want to see that climb.

Across from the horseshoe shaped waterfront, is another set of high rises. All that glass! Whew, can you imagine the sunsets?

This is called Blake Pier, I never did make it out there.

This is the Murray House, the Maritime Museum is there and that 2nd floor balcony at the very end is my destination. I hope I can get a nice next to the balcony table.

So I didn't get a table right at the balcony, all the small tables were taken, I couldn't very well expect them to seat me. But what a nice consolation prize, I may not have gotten the ocean view, but this is a pretty beautiful view too.

It's not a real palm tree, it's a potted plant, but it will have to do. I get to sit and exhale. I'm not starving since I ate a late breakfast, but I wanted to eat.

It's salmon with greens and a lemon garlic sauce, that's a pureed tomato & olive oil w/the toast and off to the side is pureed potatoes. No Perrier, but Pellegrino is good too!

Did I want dessert? But of course! It's a frozen almond nougat, the strawberry has a drizzle of mango sauce and there is my coffee service, served with a mocha biscotti.

I was in heaven and yes, I got a few stares for taking pictures of my food. But I think those people who stared today, will take pictures of their food tomorrow.

I don't think of it as being a dweeb, I think of it as enjoying the moment and if I take the long good bye journey to the end of my days, I will have these moments indelibly set and if even for a moment, I will remember bliss.

This is another view from the Murray House, how it looks like someplace in the Mediterranean.

How gorgeous is this?

I look out into the afternoon sun and I see this quiet little boat, stark against the large cruise ship in the back ground. I've always had these romantic notions of living on a boat.

They still have these old style sampans flying around the island. I watched him come in.

I watched him looking like he was starting to settle in for the night.

In a world where I carry digital cameras, three cell phones(personal, office BB and a China cell phone), laptop, chargers, where the internet seems as necessary as breathing, this man lives as millions have lived for thousands of years. He lives by the labor of his hands and home is where he lays his anchor.

Who lives the more fulfilling life?

Day 16: Hello Hong Kong

2010-03-15T08:40:00.000-05:00

Well, we all knew it had to end one day, I like the traveling, but because it’s a business trip, I’m ready to go home. But I like to spend a few days recuperating before I tackle another 16hr flight back or in my case, travel time of approximately 23hrs, with over a 6hour stopover in Seoul.

There are several ways to get from Shenzhen to Hong Kong. Shenzhen holds the border between communist China and the New Territories.

Most people call it Hong Kong, but Hong Kong actually refers to Hong Kong Island and the peninsula that is called Kowloon.

Well, it’s easy to take a ferry from Shenzhen to Hong Kong or take the train which will take you right to the heart of Kowloon. Well, the last few days I’ve been feeling the wear & tear of this trip. So I when I woke up this morning, I was feverish.

If you come in by public transportation, when you get to customs in Hong Kong, you will get scanned by a thermometer. I had one colleague who had a raging fever and only got through by placing an ice pack on his forehead for as long as he could so when he finally crossed through customs, his temp was normal.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m not going to be stuck in mainland China.

I was planning on taking the ferry down to Hong Kong since I’ve taken the train in before, I’ve never ridden the Chinese ferry system. But when faced with the possible deleterious possibility of being turned back from the border, I made the decision to ask my hosts to see if they could get me a private driver who has a special license that lets him drive between mainland China and Hong Kong.

So they called me a driver that they knew, but a stranger to me of course. It’s strange that I have to come to China where I get into cars with strangers who can’t speak English and yet I trust them completely to get me to where I need to go. But I get into a cab in Chicago late at night and I call or text the cab # to someone, just in case.

He will drive me through Shenzhen and right up to the boarder. It’s not a long drive from where I was to get through the city and to the border. In the meantime, the driver chats me up a bit, he has a thick Hong Kong accent. I can understand the words in Mandarin when they speak it up in the north, Beijing, Shanghai, Ningbo, etc. But once I got to Guangzhou and the rest of the south, it is a blend of Cantonese & Mandarin and incomprehensible to me.

We’re chatting, then he tells me: “If the police ask, they don’t usually, but in case they do ask, you and I are friends.”

I listened when he said “Police”.

He’s a gypsy cab! He’s not supposed to be taking people back and forth between the borders for money.

And my stupid ass, replies “Ok…” I think of it for a moment while I mull over the point. “So how long have we known each other? Do you have family? Children?” OMG, I started working a back story in my head! In the split second he’s asked me to lie to the police, just in case I’m asked, my imagination has written a story. We’ve known each other for 5yrs, his boss and my boss are friends since their college days, blah blah blah.

I felt like an idiot.

The boarder guards look like a toll road. I don’t have to leave the car, I sit in the back seat of this totally pimped out ride. But I am rehearsing my story. Which the more I think about it, sounds more suspicious than just a simple ‘yes’.

So this first pix is us waiting to exit mainland China, these guys will check me out of the country first, I give the driver my passport.

So I’m sitting in the middle seat, trying to look relaxed and innocent, which I am, I don’t even have pirated DVDs! So why does the police make me nervous? LOL

He's got a stuffed dog lounging on his dashboard, which in Chicago is illegal because it obstructs the driver's view. Mainland China they drive on the right side, just like we do in the US. It is only in HK that they drive on the left and the driver is on the right.

Also, if you look close, that is a screen down in the middle there. When the car stops, the screen flickers alive and video images come on. I thought it was the front and the back, like some cars have the camera to show you when you back up. Well, his interestingly enough, were views down the sides of his car. It only comes on when he is on his brakes; at a full stop. Is it fear of carjackings?

We travel a few feet and we are in another toll booth, this time to gain entry to Hong Kong. It wasn’t long, if either inspection of my passport took more than 30secs I would have been surprised. It wasn’t long before we were off and running.

There really isn't a lot of traffic while we're still far in the northern part of the New Territories or SAR (Special Administrative Region).

This area is part of the Pearl River Delta, so the highway is strung together with a lot of bridges. This was a nice looking suspended bridge, but dusk was settling in, hope you can see it.

I guess even as an adult, I've never gotten over my childhood thrill of crossing bridges.

The sun is dropping behind the mountains over mainland China.

There is a fork in the highway, this is the bridge that will take you to Hong Kong Island, well, I think that's what the driver said. Since I'm staying in Kowloon, we stay heading down the peninsula.

My hotel is walking distance from the Star Ferry terminal. It's actually right over the ferry that comes in from mainland China. If I were feeling better, I would have come off the ferry and simply taken the elevators to my hotel room.

There is a laser light show tonight between Hong Kong Island and Kowloon. This beautiful sight is Hong Kong Island.

My room is one of the tiniest rooms I've ever been in but what a crazy view, I open my window and I'm looking over Nathan Road!

It may be difficult to see, this is me trying to be artistic. I turned the lights on so you see the reflection of my tiny room, superimposed over the night view of Nathan Road.

Look closely, you can see my bed, the blue, red & white lights are cars on Nathan Road.

Day 15: Shenzhen

2010-03-14T09:25:00.000-05:00

Today, I just breathed. Not only because tomorrow afternoon I’m off to Hong Kong but it’s humid and warm. Since I like that sort of environment, does that make me a hothouse orchid? Hmm…

Anyways, all I have is a bunch of photos around the hotel. I think I’ve run out of words today.

Sunrise trying to get through the smog.

Here's my balcony, this is the view I see as I just hang out and breathe.

So I step out into the balcony, nice marble floor and view the empty grounds.

This is the view when I turn to the left.

That's another building, still part of the grounds, I think they may be for players during tournaments. I think, I'm not a golfer so I'm not to up on the legend of this place.

This is the view when I turn to the right. I really dig the palm trees!

The main dining hall was on the other wing so I had a 5 minute walk to get breakfast and the next few photos are just some of the sights I saw along the way.

I guess they were going for a nautical theme at this bar?

I think I was up too early for everyone else on a Sunday morning.

Behind the boat bar is this hidden away smaller swimming pool.

There was just so much beauty, I couldn't take pictures fast enough.

This is just outside the dining area, there is the resort retail shop and the players' lounge.

This is one of the front entrances. This is where the cars would pull up, but there was another entrance too, I think it's just different entrances for each wing.

I don't really know, I just wandered around, nodding at the gardeners and tried not to look like a giant dork taking pictures of bushes and shrubs.

As I walk out back towards my room, I walk past the main entrance, I have to walk behind this massive carving.

I walk behind and am struck breathless by this view.

This is the other side of the view, the picture from above was taken from the second floor of the glassed in staircase on the right.

This resort struck me with a nostalgia for all those 30s and 40s black-and-white movies where Bogie walks in wearing a white dinner jacket.

The beautiful wood deck chairs just looked beautiful next to the water fountain.

There is a swim up pool, of course.

I walked through that arch shown on this picture, there is a snack bar to the right there but it is closed.

As I turn around from the shot I took above, this is the next view as I walk back towards my room.

My room is on the first floor, this photo is the open air courtyard that faces my room, if you look closely, that little dark rectangle on the ground floor is the door to my room.

This place so reminds me of British colonial days, not that I was alive back in the day, but I'm Fatal Romantic for a reason. I remember those old films and when I'm here, it's like I've stepped back in time.

Especially when there is literally nobody around.

I'm down in the hallway to my room with the atrium lining my walk.

And this is the view that greets me every time I walk out of my door.

The only reason I even into this resort was that one of my Chinese hosts is a member of the club in excellent standing.

I will have a moment when I will rue leaving this idyllic place where I seemed to have walked back in time.

Well, it's almost 1030pm for me, gnite.

Day 14: Good Bye Zhuhai, Hello Shenzhen

2010-03-13T18:42:00.004-06:00

Today I had to leave the lovely Harborview Hotel & Resort. I’m sure there would be people who would argue about my affection for Zhuhai, I wish I had less smog so I could have seen it in full sunshine because I just know this place is beautiful.

I’m biased because I love the saltwater smell, the palm and coconut trees that reminds me of an island east of the South China Seas.

I had another great cup of coffee at breakfast at the Harborview, it was so strong, it was like drinking a full cup of expresso. It was so damn good!

Seeing a window at the end of my hallway, I wandered down and took some pictures.

Last night, I was disturbed by people running down the hallway, lascivious laughter and general boisterous behavior. I guessed that because it was Friday night, perhaps this was a weekend getaway place, probably explains the ‘emergency kit’!

This is Deyuefang restaurant that looks like an Imperial barge, but it isn't. It's all an illusion.

But the car took me away to Saturday’s meetings. It was strange to see a sunrise, turn a corner and have it blotted out by smog, in my opinion, it's criminal.

These are the sand formations along the road.

I loved the palm trees that lined Middle Lover's Road!

How sweet to live in a place where a bus stop can be open because the weather is always mild.

The road ran north then around Nansha, we turned east to head to Shenzhen a city that boarders the New Territories, it's the area that the British government had turned over to the People's Republic of China when they turned over Hong Kong. There are several bridges that go over the various branches of the Pearl River Delta. I can't be sure, but I think he's a bridge sweeper.

When I first came to China several years ago, there were no labor controls. So if someone wanted to keep their facilities open 7 days a week, they could. Now, it is legally mandated that Sunday is an off day. How the western Judeo-Christian culture have seeped into the eastern culture. Not that I think the Chinese should work 7days a week, but why Sundays off? Why not Monday?

This is traffic in Shenzhen, I'm so glad I wasn't driving. But even just sitting in the back seat was so intense. I guess if this is your reality, you just learn to live with it.

I visited a clean room today, very interesting indeed. I was allowed into a room that was used to test for sound sensitivity. So when the door was closed, I felt pressure in my ears and felt something akin to claustrophobia. Sound was suddenly gone, it was disconcerting.

It was a long day, lots of driving, lots of walking around. When I finally made it to my final hotel in mainland China, it was dark. We had a quick dinner and I was offered a salon package and I took it. I spent the evening enjoying a relaxing environment and the best facial I ever had in my life. I was there for 3hrs because the salon insisted that for it to be effective, a massage needed to be 70mins long and a facial at least 1hour long.

If I could pack up my masseuse, I would have! She was this tiny little thing who didn’t even reach my shoulder! But she was able to get the knots out of my shoulders, my back and my calves absolutely melted under her ministrations. As I lay prone on the massage table with my face in the donut hole head holder, I swear I fell asleep and drooled! It was that good of a massage.

Then the facial was amazing, she covered my eyes with cucumbers so I couldn’t see a lot but she had a gel on my face and what felt like an ultrasound machine on my face that she wave all over my face.

Over the past several weeks, the travel and my restless sleep patterns has resulted in large dark circles under my eyes, but whatever she did to my face, when I returned to my room, the circles were gone! I stared at my face for a long time trying to figure out how she did it because it was so good!

Anyways, here’s some shots of my room. I’m so used to walking into a room and see wall to wall carpeting, this place had dark wood flooring that matched the doors for the cabinets & closets as well as the doors and lintel.

Beautiful room, spacious and I loved how bright the bathroom was.

I loved having a big picture window like this, it opens into a lovely balcony with a view of the golf course.

I'm assuming that since this is on the Pearl Delta, perhaps this area used to be swampland of something because in my room was a bug zapper. I was told that the rooms have some hungry mosquitoes.

Then I opened my closet and see mosquito netting.

Then I got really concerned when I saw not just a breather mask but a full gas mask?! Were they preparing to be bombed?

This was last night, after my salon visit, I couldn't sit down on post. But today, after I finish off reports & send off emails, I will stroll around the grounds and relax. Have a great Sunday all!

Day 13: Zhuhai

2010-03-12T06:36:00.001-06:00

Last night was such a long night for me, horrible cramps from the crazy peppers. Luckily I was able to zip through much of my visits today. I was back at the hotel before 3pm. I had the afternoon to myself to roam around the area. But did I take a nap? No way, not when there is a new city to explore.

It is a beautiful looking city as I sat in the back seat driving back and forth for the last few days. However, I have to leave it tomorrow.

My hotel is towards the bottom of this satellite photo, I followed it around the bend to that "Y" shapped thing, look really close to the top left.

My hotel sits along the

Middle Road

, it’s what it’s technically called, but the locals call it Lover’s Lane. When I was driven through it, I saw this strange looking statue that didn’t look like it was THAT long of a walk from the hotel. So when I got back, I changed to jeans and sneakers and went exploring. What I was thinking was walking along the coast and finding some quiet little place and devour seafood. I love seafood and to eat it at the waterfront is my favorite meal.

The road goes along beautifully, but I didn’t see one single signal light. So just crossing the street was a challenge. But I grew up in the Philippines where there aren’t any signal lights or crosswalks. And I live in Chicago, a big city where the mantra is “I’m walking here!”

I love the ocean; to stand on a beach was an unexpected delight. But I was on a mission; I wanted to see the statue. I’m not familiar with the area; there aren’t a lot of foreigners. But like every where I’ve ever been, I walk firmly and confidently, like I know exactly where I’m going, even when I don’t.

But I can’t just walk blithely ignoring the beautiful sights. I’m going to let the pictures speak for themselves.

This was just a lovely hidden area that I only saw as I walked.

When I walked back, there was a group of women doing a form of tai chi, I don't take pictures of people here. I don't want to be disrespectful. I saw a form of tai chi because I do tai chi & I don't do it w/pop music blaring at me! They updated it!

Can you see why it would be called Lover's Lane? It's a lovely romantic walk. Me and my digital camera.

There is what looks like a round food court that sits right on the water. I just think it's funny to see the guy just standing there.

This is a bus stop! How cool is that. But see the background? The skyline is obscured by the smog, the stories you hear about the pollution in China is NOT an exaggeration! It's been reported that the miasma crosses the Pacific and actually can end up in California, I believe it.

Reminds me of Lake Shore Drive (LSD).

Beautiful natural sand formations line this part of the Lane. It's fantastic to see up close, if I were on vacation, I would have climbed the railing and gone down there and really explored! But this is a business trip. How could I explain getting arrested to them?

My destination! It's called the Fisher Girl.

I wonder if they had a Chinese version of Hans Christian Anderson. How ironic that as far apart as China and Denmark are, yet they both have this kind of statue.

The same curve, but heading back towards the high rise buildings, one of which is my hotel.

I had to sneak this shot. I missed an earlier moment when the net was being lifted from the water. I don't think they caught a lot of fish.

They say this plane is Chairman Mao's plane, I don't know, I just thought it was the oddest thing to see. A plane in the middle of a strip mall's parking lot.

But then again, I did see an airplane on someone's front yard in the canals of Bangkok.

I never found a seafood restaurant on the water. Instead I decided to walk around the block, behind the hotel. I was so comfortable walking around, the sea breeze, surrounded by Asians, I never thought that if I saw a hole in the wall place to eat, how was I going to order?

I saw street carts selling, I don't exaggerate, dumplings the size of my face. But I didn't know what was in them and wasn't comfortable enough with my Mandarin to ask them. So I was just strolling, my stomach rumbling.

Then I saw the little old lady with a cart full of boiled peanuts. I love fresh boiled peanuts. As a kid, in the Philippines, after school, I would stop & get boiled peanuts. So to see this, made me feel so at home and so delighted.

I was able to tell her that I wanted some, she smiled sweetly at me. Then I realized that there is a sign language with the hands that dictate numbers, I had signaled her, unwittingly, that I wanted 5kilos of boiled peanuts! I stopped when it was obvious she was going to fill up this HUGE plastic bag and I had made a mistake with my hand signs.

Then when it came time to pay her, she was signaling with her hands, assuming I knew the language. China has a variety of different ethnicities that I could have easily passed for Chinese. When I started to explain in Mandarin that I only speak a little and I speak English, she started to get annoyed at me! I think she thought I was just going to walk off with her peanuts. The guy in the cart next to her had been watching us and had walked over to see what was going on. I was afraid I would still end up in a Chinese jail!

So I pulled out some paper currency, the coin currency is beyond my comprehension! Then I just held the money out to here and she simply pulled out 11 RMB. She could have taken all my money, I wouldn't have cared. It was only 30RMB about $5 but she was honest and I had 2kgs of boiled peanuts.

Chinese streets aren't necessarily laid out in a perfect grid. But I found my way back to that little street in last night's post. I found a little convenience store where I picked out regular Coke - they don't have Diet Coke here, they have Coke Light. I hate diet Coke and the Coke regular is sweetened with regular sugar, not corn fructose. So of course, I had to have regular Coke. I loved it!

I pulled two Cokes out of the cooler, smiled at the clerk, I assumed she had foreigners before, cuz she punched in the purchase amount in a calculator and showed it to me and smiled back.

Sunset over Zhuhai, there's that little street, not so much like an alley because it was much cleaner than our alleys, but it was narrow like one.

So my dinner tonight is 2kilos (~4lbs) of boiled peanuts and coke.

My stomach is going to hate me forever. Sigh.

PS. The bed goes THUD.

Day 12: Zhuhai

2010-03-11T07:23:00.000-06:00

Today will be a discussion of the importance of cultural sensitivity, firm resolution and a brave stomach. You must first know how a traditional Chinese restaurant works. I was taken to a high end, but traditional Chinese restaurant. In this little town we were it, it was the ONLY happening place to eat.

In the main floor of a Chinese restaurant is always the area where you chose your food. The food is always fresh. That’s why you see fresh fish on ice or still swimming in the aquarium.

See the woman in the suit and tie holding the little device? She’s the order taker; she places whatever you tell her what you want on that device that, I’m assuming goes to the kitchen. She’ll follow you around as you choose your food.

How about some fish?

Do you like eel? They were swimming around.

I recognize the lobsters, those are really large lobsters; I get it, but horseshoe crab? How do you eat that?

I don’t know what this stuff is, the white slabs sort of looks like dried fish and dumplings?

When you get tired of looking at uncooked food, you can chose from the different presentations.

Would you like a little chicken….feet?

How about some quail wings?

How about some tongue?

Perhaps you like tail better?

How about a trio of turtles? Yes, by the looks of it, they are baby turtles.

Or you can get a bigger turtle to go.

I’m really not sure what the food is, the pyramid of figs looks innocent enough. It’s cool to see the open kitchen.

After you choose your food, you are taken upstairs into the private dining rooms. There is a large circular table with a big revolving top where the food is placed and spun towards each person sitting at the table.

My host was the big honcho, the owner of the facility I had visited this afternoon. My favorite dish was this unbelievably good scallop.

I got another surprise; I was all excited about the plate of green beans. I put about three of them on my plate. The trick being when a dish is first served to the table, everyone takes just a little bit, because you don’t know just how many the dish will serve. It’s just polite. Then if there is still food left over after everyone has taken a bit, then go back for seconds or thirds.

Well, I’m very glad I didn’t take a lot because as I chewed the first green bean, I realized it wasn’t a green bean sautéed in garlic, but spicy green peppers! Good thing I stopped at just one, it was the kind of pepper that kicked back after you ate it. So I stopped after the first one and eventually the pain went away.

As I sit here and type this, my stomach is in pain, something just didn’t agree with me tonight. No, I didn’t have any of the more exotic dishes, no turtle for me.But apart from the scallops and the spicy pepper, I can't tell you what I ate! I’m calling it an ‘early nite’, maybe I’ll be asleep before 10pm tonight.

Day 11: Zhongshan

2010-03-10T08:41:00.000-06:00

Sometimes it’s just difficult to be tell where I am. Today is one of those days. I probably won’t go drinking like last night again, but I made up for it by eating a very hearty breakfast. I couldn’t believe it, I got so excited by seeing quail eggs that I didn’t even bat an eye when I picked it up and just ate it. After I had enjoyed it did I realize that I just ate a raw egg in

China

! Which is one of the big no-nos in all the tourist books.

I ended up in Zhongshan which had the last vestiges of old China. The terracotta rooftops, which I didn’t have time to take because I was practically running from one location to another.

I did see this crazy message painted on the side of one building. It was a good thing I was looking out the window as I was zipping down crazy highways. I was told that it was a warning not to pirate videos or risk getting your crotch squashed!

When we got off the highway, we went on a divided highway, but I saw people walking on what looked like the sidewalk. I'm not too sure since everyone I've asked about the streets and traffic in China just seems to shrug in resignation. Well, I thought it was a nice wide sidewalk until my driver drove up on it, following another car. I don't know if they were supposed to, but I saw parked cars so I guess it was fine.

I ended up in Zhuhai, it was nice and sunny today, but still only in the 50s-60s. I wish it were warmer.

I’m in a high end Chinese hotel. I’ll be here for 3days so I don’t want to tell you the name yet, just in case someone reads my posts because you never know who’s reading.

Well, it’s only U$60/nt. It was dark when I pulled up so I couldn’t tell much about the property except when I walked into the lobby it glistened with marble and lights.

I asked for a non-smoking room, so the clerk told me that I will be put in a non-smoking floor. Woohoo. Except when I walked out of the elevators, there’s big ashtrays by the elevator doors and along the hallway. There was also a lingering odor of cigarette smoke.

But the room was fine, it didn’t have a very strong odor. I did find something very interesting prominently displayed on the bedside table.

Ok, why would it be called an ‘EMERGENCY KIT’? I think emergency, I think, open lesions, deep wounds, broken bones…but a boner?

And what exactly is an “international standard”?

I always go through everything when I get into my room, so I was a little disconcerted when I saw this. Should I also duck and cover?

This is a view of a side street behind my hotel. Amidst the darkness, this one street was lit up and it looks like a little fruit market, I'll have to go down there tomorrow.

They look like really nice apartment/condo buildings don't they? If you click on a photo, it will open into another tab and a bigger picture. See some of the details.

Well, after last night, I need an early night. How pretty is my view tonight?

Day 10: Daliang, Foshan

2010-03-09T11:10:00.000-06:00

Left Dongguan and went to…I’m not sure what town’s name actually is. Is it Daliang, Foshan or Shunde? I’m not too sure.

There is a hotel that when we are in the Daliang area, we always stay at. It’s centrally located to all the various locations I have to visit today.

I like bouncing on my beds, to test it out. I’m not mentioning the name of this hotel because the bed was as hard as a rock! I didn’t bounce, I thudded.

I had spent the weekend in the quiet luxury resort, but this is a bustling city full of noise and energy. Remember the group of guys I’d met in Ningbo? Well, I met up with them again today, so after we toured their second facility, we all had dinner.

We were all staying in the same hotel so we just made plans to eat in the hotel. Mind you, before we had dinner, we sat around and drank vodka tonics. There was a girl and a piano player in the atrium bar. After dinner, we all ran down to the hotel bar, which had a Filipino band. I guess we just weren’t ready to stop drinking. I think I had at least 8 of vodka tonics last night. But I ate dinner, so I wasn’t drunk or anything, just really, really brave.

We invited the band to our table during their break and bought them drinks and we had to make song requests. And yes, I did get onstage and sang a song with the group. Those pictures will NEVER show up here! There was only my group and another group of Chinese business men on the other side of the room. If there had been more people, I might not have jumped on stage. But when I finished, I got a standing ovation from all the other drunks in the room!

Now you know why today’s blog is so short. My stomach is on riot patrol, oh damn.

Random photos:

This is my room and the view from my hotel room.

There is a KFC down the block from my hotel, but we didn’t eat there today.

This is another one of those service areas.

Photos Good View Resort Hotel

2010-03-08T08:15:00.001-06:00

Can you tell I really liked this place?

This is another shot of the infinity pool, they put this gigantic read ball in the water and it just really came out beautifully.

This other shot is the 'beach' from another angle.

I love this close up shot of the condos across the lake, I wish I had time to wander over there cuz it looks like it's made up like a Italian villa, looks like a Sino-Disneyfied version of Venice.

This another end of the lake closer to the front of the hotel. I didn't see a lot of people.

This is my favorite photo, I took it in the morning, just when I thought the sun was going to finally burst through and make an appearance,

Day 9: Dongguan

2010-03-08T08:14:00.000-06:00

I had some time in the morning to enjoy a walk around the grounds again. I’m getting spoiled, two mornings in a row where I can take a morning walk with such nice scenery. I love that it is warm enough for me to open my balcony and have some ‘fresh’ air. This resort is so tucked into the property that I never hear any traffic or another noise and distraction that usually accompanies any city.

Of course the bloody sun decides to come out on the day that I have to leave the resort and go spend my entire day inside. This was a beautiful morning.

Some people have very strong opinions about that ‘cheap crap from China’, but what people don’t understand is that it is only cheap because when someone orders something from a factory in China, they invariably tell the factories to make them cheap.

The can actually make some incredibly very good stuff, but like everything else, it would cost. I hear people argue that those are jobs that are costing someone a job in the US.

All I can offer is that you don’t know the kind of conditions they work under. Take a look at this guy. He a welder, but he’s got a laminated piece of paper attached to a Groucho Marx plastic glasses, I’m impressed they gave him gloves.

A Chinese worker works 6days a week, lives in a dorm room that is probably shared with at least another worker and they are fed 3 times a day. This is the life of a migrant worker. This a picture of one of the better dorms.

It looks like every single apartment has open balconies. I was told that is because they all need that room to hang and dry their clothes.

This young lady is sorting out little pieces of metal that will be positively charged or negatively charged.

Then another girl puts those metal pieces together and another girl will glue them until they become these parts that you will probably never ever see since it’s tucked away inside a motor.

Another thing you probably don’t know about China is that any building 5 floors or less does not require elevators. So I’ve climbed up and down over two dozen buildings already and it’s just the start of my 2^nd week.

I can’t go away without sharing another lunch story. I ordered another bento box and I actually got to take a picture of it. So going from top left to right, that is grilled tofu and spices. The next box is the pork, they haven’t caught up to the fact that eating actual FAT really isn’t good for you. It’s a pork dish, I can recognize that, but it’s a lot more fat and maybe a sliver of actual lean port. The center spot is pickled ginger, almost sweet. That’s just some sautéed bok choy. Then the ubiquitous, asian servings of rice.

Oh, I forgot, that brown round thing in the port section? It’s called a soy egg. It’s a boiled egg cooked in soy sauce, it tasted just like a boiled egg and didn’t need salt.

I'm still in Dongguan, this is the nicest hotel I've stayed at in China, I will hate to leave it tomorrow. I spent my last night strolling the grounds one final time.

This is that little area below the service road.

This is the service road.

And this is the prettiest shot I could get, let me tell you it took me forever to get this shot because of the lighting. But it made me really homesick!

Day 8: Dongguan

2010-03-07T16:56:00.000-06:00

Front view of the hotel

I had a lovely day off. Saturday night at dinner, the hotel had 4 singers strolling around the tables.

In China, quite a number of Filipinos come to work in two specialties, domestic help and entertainment. Walk into any hotel bar in China and 98% of the singers and musicians are Filipinos.

It is our invariable ability to sing with an American accent. I’ve strolled past several hotel bars, the better the hotel, the better the entertainment. At the Shanghai Renaissance, the singers were so beautiful, they looked like starlets. Then there are the lower level hotels where the entertainment can sing, but they don’t have that ‘star’ quality.

Well, at this hotel resort, the singers were no different. They didn’t have the ‘sleazy’ feel that some hotels like to promote. These singer, 2 men & 2 women, had a more familial feel. The group felt like they were couples, one man older, one woman older. They weren’t actually related to each other, but they promoted a clean cut image.

I saw them as I came down the stairs and they younger woman looked up at me and we exchanged smiles. When you are roaming a foreign land with unfamiliar faces, then you see a face that looks familiar, you smile. Most Filipinos can spot another Filipino at first glance. Just once I messed up and thought a Thai person was Filipino.

When I settled myself at a table, they approached me and I started talking to them. How serendipitous to meet a woman from my island and spoke my dialect! I process my environment and my languages by osmosis, so while I’m in China, my head is full of the Chinese language and the longer I stay, the more the words start to take on familiarity. I’ve often said that give me a month of complete immersion, I’d be fluent in Chinese. So a week into my stay, it’s starting to sink in with me.

To hear unaccented English is a treat, to hear and speak my dialect is absolute heaven. It isn’t until I hear her speak that I get hit by a wave of homesickness. Not for Chicago, but for that island east of the South China Seas. The language reminds me of white hot vertical noon eye glare, majestic coconut trees and glorious aquamarine seas. Enough.

Random photo alert:

I hung out at the hotel, where else am I going to go? This is a small town, I could stroll around the villas, but wasn’t sure if I were allowed. Besides, I really, really like my big king size bed. I haven’t had a chance to roll around one for as long as I want.

This place is considered a high end weekend getaway for moneyed HK residents. There are villas available for families and I think those are condos on the other side of the lake.

This is my morning shots as I strolled around after breakfast. It’s an overcast day but at least it’s warm.

It was early enough that I didn't see a lot of people out here, no joggers, no walkers, no one. The silence was beautiful and added to the moment.

The sun was fighting the smog/clouds whatever muck was in the air. But there are fish in this little lake, little bubbles popped to the surface, a quiet splash, a bird's lonely call in the distant. It was what I needed.

I'm thinking these are condos around the lake, there was a causeway that would let me cross, but I didn't really feel like doing a lot of walking, yes, I had reports & emails waiting to be finished. I just wanted some air.

This next pix is this quiet area that I found just beneath the service road. I saw mostly employees crossing the road, not too many actual guests are interested, I guess.

And this shot leaves me thinking of my long lost island home, palm trees set me thinking, if I saw coconut trees, I'm be uselessly lost in reminiscence.

This is the terrace that was unfortunately not opened for breakfast, off to the side is the glass walls of the main dining area.

They have this fake beach swimming pool that was actually interesting. The early morning time left the beach newly raked over and completely bereft of any footprints. It was a pristine scene.

I call this their infinity pool, it's too damn pretty to go swimming in!

The pool snakes around the property for a nicely extended lazy river and around the back, the area has this beautiful garden area that looks like they turn on the water only during special occasions to give off a babbling brook motif.

If this little bridge had some water shooting off underneath it, it would have looked perfect. But as it is, it's also lovely as well.

This had some water still in it.

Here's my beautiful room the bathroom has this window separating it from the bedroom with sliding/swinging wood doors(?)

This is the shot from my bedroom looking into the bathroom.

This is from the bathroom looking out into the open window, you can see my pillows over there by the tub. It absolutely relieves any claustrophobia anyone might have.