Hong Kong signage, an introduction

Hong Kong is incredibly flashy. The lights, the in-your-face signs, and the 'oh my gawd, wtf?' adverts, the meaning of subtlety is non-existant here. I kind of miss it.

Maybe it's because I don't read or understand Chinese that lots of things perplex me here.


The English ones are no better. I cringe. Really I do.

Your Trendy? Your Style? Pardon the un-dimsumgirl-like language, but WTF?

This one has got to be my personal favourite though:
Tough!

Oh, the ringing in my ears

I woke up today at 9pm, thinking what a beautiful day it is.

Then I sat up and a striking pain shot straight to my head. Uh-uh, forget the sunny skies outside. Right under my duvet is where I want to be.

Little girls in Hong Kong learn to club at a very early stage. Given the variety of things one can do with alcohol in Lan Kwai Fong itself, partying till dawn is a way of life here that you easily pick up. Clubs are choked full with girls in strange colour schemes and outfits one would rather die than wear in the streets of KL. Guys are always on hand to buy you drinks. I can go out with 500 dollars and come home with 500 dollars. One guy was pestering me to buy him a drink last night, but when we reached the bar - he came to his senses and decided he didn't want to be a girl. I got a free drink instead.

It's probably very easy to get drunk that way. But dancing it all out helps, and before long I'm completely sober again and wondering who my next drink is coming from.

Once in awhile you sit back and take in the scene, and wonder what made human evolution evolve such that a night of fun is defined as stuffing as many people as possible into a dark, smoky room where they're only happy if they're intoxicated or bobbing from side to side in a dance form that closely resembles epilepsy.

This dim sum girl is waiting for the music to die down, before the world becomes bright again.

Retail therapy

Hong Kong is really a beautiful place when the typhoon has shifted up north to China, and the grey clouds have all rolled away.

On a day like today, bored little girls who've spent too much time on Hong Kong island can't resist traversing the channel to the 'other side'. Kowloon has the coolest Chinese name I've ever come across - Nine Dragons.

Just like every other expatriate, I was in search of true Hong Kong bargain shopping, and there's no better place to start than at Lui Yan Kai (Ladies Market) in Mongkok. A long line of streets is littered with peddlers of all kinds of wares. From clothes to shoes to table runners to fake watches and imitation Prada bags, not to mention a disturbing amount of Hello Kitty accessories, you can find just about anything (and more) at Lui Yan Kai.

The process of bargaining is indeed an intricate art I've never quite mastered. My mother is the expert when it comes to cutting prices down by a half. Me? I'm too concerned with not having angry stall owners chasing me down the street throwing Cantonese obscenities over my shoulder. The technique of bargaining is a intriguing binary search beginning with the seller quoting a price and you saying you'll take it for nothing more than half of that. Most times (with successful bargain queens - i.e. not me) you'll settle for somewhere at the 75% notch. They like me because I'm pretty satisfied with just shaving a few dollars off.

I found several things. And at the end of the day, the cost of retail therapy came up to quite a heft price. But it was all worth it, I tell myself, until I realise that I've bought enough dresses to see me through a week's worth of cocktail parties. Nevermind that they are 'sui for' and as a result they've got a few threads loose and don't fit perfectly. Nothing a trip to mum's tailor back in KL can't fix.

In the theme of pampering myself and carving out my tai-tai-to-be lifestyle, I went for a foot massage last Sunday, and today I'm off for a facial. I'll tell you about it another day.

Stay, don't sway

When you have inherited low blood pressure from your mum and are particularly susceptible to motion sickness, dizzy spells are nothing out of the ordinary.

Unless you're on the 65th floor and wondering why you're also feeling tremors. You turn to glare at your desk partner, but he isn't tapping his feet or doing anything out of the ordinary.

But outside the winds are violently whiplashing the building and you realise that you're not the only one feeling dizzy. A commotion builds up within the office. That's allowed when the building you're in is actually swaying, being tossed by the windy arms of Typhoon Prapiroon.

The feeling of seasickness when you're sitting down at your desk is terribly unsettling. I contemplated taking a break and going down to the lobby, but I also happen to be a workaholic and a swaying building wasn't going to keep me away from my work.

Returning to my apartment in the evening, I walked up to the glass doors only to find everything taped up. Precautionary measures. I believe them. I could barely cross the road as the winds tried to force me in the opposite direction.

It's all so very scary and exciting. A strange lullaby to lull me to sleep.

Typhoon Prapiroon

is raging outside.

The rain is splattering against my window and can see the trees swaying. Just a little more and I fear Hooke's law will be broken as they stretch beyond their elasticity limit. I need to stop thinking in science terms. It's not cool.

The centre of the typhoon is only 340km away from Hong Kong Island. That puts us at level 3 warning. That puts me under my duvet, all snug and watching the rain. It fascinates me. Earlier as I was running through it, anxiously trying to find a taxi that would take one soaking wet little girl home, it felt like the entire sky had become one big shower hose. With winds at 41-62 kmph, it really is something.

Tropical monsoon rains are no match for this gale.

I need to start investing in more umbrellas.