I got back from Hong Kong last night, and I've a lot to do this year in an effort to reconnect with my Asianness:
First, I have to rehearse my new repertoire of asian picture poses. I thought that all I had to do was make a V with every picture, and I was officially asian, but nope. I've been told that there's an entire catalog of asian poses, many of which can be found on this website: www.asianposes.com. I better start practicing.
Second, I need to make more asian friends. Apparently, one isn't really asian until they have a whole gaggle of asian friends to karaoke and gamble with. I don't gamble or karaoke, but if I have more asian friends, perhaps I'll start. I'll see you at the Casino.
Third? Well, I have to get back to my life. Everything (job search, networking, etc) has been on hold for the last five weeks while I've been overseas. Now that I'm back, it's back to the grind for me again.
I had a rocky start in Hong Kong, but by the time week five came around, I was sad to leave the island. The first two weeks were overwhelming -- first, I forgot about how my dad can be, and second, I haven't been around that many people since I foolishly decided to watch the 2003 Holloween Parade my first year in NY. By the third week, I finally felt comfortable being out and about in HK. I was reminded of all the outdoor activities, interesting people, diversity and awesome food the city had to offer. I saw friends I hadn't seen in a years. I learned to ignore my curmudgeonly dad. My mom was off on break, so I got to spend lots of time with her. It was really nice. If I didn't have plans to meet people in HK, I'd often take a walk around the lake at my parents' place, do a bit of yoga, pet the animals, watch some TV and do crossword puzzles all day. I was sad to leave my parents and come back to face life again.
Showing posts with label hong kong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hong kong. Show all posts
07 January 2010
02 January 2010
Monkeys in Monkeyland
R invited me to go hiking with her friend J's church group. We took a short walk along the Shek Lei Pui reservoir in Tai Po and encountered quite a few furry faces. Check out the album by clicking on the link below the picture.
![]() |
From Monkeys that live in Monkeyland |
01 January 2010
Wait, it's the New Year?
It's 10am on the first day of 2010, and I am stone cold sober. I have no idea how that happened, considering I got in bed at 5am this morning, but here I am, about to leave my parents' place to go watch New Moon (not my choice) at IFC with L.
First, I thought I'd leave you some images of the festivities last night. For more, go to the album.
The view from the Star Ferry Pier:

Kowloon:

Central:


Underwhelming fireworks:


First, I thought I'd leave you some images of the festivities last night. For more, go to the album.
The view from the Star Ferry Pier:

Kowloon:

Central:


Underwhelming fireworks:



22 December 2009
I look like a poodle.
So I've gone and done it.
I usually rock wavy hair, and while it looks totally natural (so I hear), it's not. It's what I call surfer girl hair, and I don't know how my hair guy Markus does it, but he's just brilliant. I explain that I want to look like I just spent the day at the beach and my hair is all wavy and surfer-girl-like, and he can magically just turn my straight asian hair into a shiny, tousled, tumbled, just the right amount of curly work of art that often has people with wavy hair asking me what I put in my hair to make it look so good. (When I tell them that it's a perm, they're surprised.)

Since I met Markus 6 years ago, no one else touches my hair.
Imagine my apprehension when my mother noted that my hair was getting straight, and I ought to get it re-permed in time for K's wedding this Saturday. She suggested I go to the person who's been doing her hair for close to the last 15 years. I tentatively agreed because I knew my mother was being thoughtful, but I was nervous.
I mean, I've seen my mother's hair, and there's definitely a generation gap in terms of what either of us deem good hair. My mother thinks my beachy waves look messy, and I think my mother's hair looks fried. My mother happens to think the fried frizzy look works for her, and carries around a pick which she uses to separate the strands of her very tight perm so her hair can look even bigger and frizzier. Imagine Arsenio Hall back in the days of fade haircuts. Now replace Arsenio with small asian lady, and that's probably my mom you're thinking of. All she needs to do is leave her pick sticking out of her hair, and she's done. As for me, I prefer a more natural look even if there's nothing natural about it. I haven't brushed or combed my hair in 8 years. I don't think I even own a pick, comb or brush. (Wait, I DO own a comb, but it's for my eyebrows.)

Worried that my mother's hair person wouldn't understand the concept of surfer-girl hair, I arrived at the salon armed with printouts of me with wavy hair, Beyonce with ginormo waves of hair cascading around her face (even though we all know those are hair extensions), Kate Hudson, Giselle with lazy curls galore (also extensions), yada yada. I also brought my own gel normalizer (to strip chemicals out of hair so it'll accept chemical processing better) and deep conditioner (for after the perm so your hair doesn't fry).
Remember what I've been saying about old Chinese people? Well, this person has been doing my mother's hair for almost 15 years, so she's been around for a while. She wasn't particularly receptive to my "new fangled" ideas, such as a gel normalizer and deep conditioning. Nor was she particularly interested in the pictures I had to show her of how I wanted my hair. She waved off all my suggestions, picked some really small rollers that I protested were too small, so I'd end up with kinky curls. I wanted a wave, not a fro. She then picked slightly larger rollers, which I still thought were too small, but she refused to go any bigger, insisting that these were as big as she could go (they really weren't). I should have just left the salon at that point, but I was trying to not offend my mother or her hair person, so I bore it out.
Which was a HUGE mistake, because I now LOOK LIKE A POODLE.

First, hair lady shampooed my hair and then treated it with the same chemical used to make the hair curl before she even put in rollers, so my hair was destined to be fried no matter what happened. Second, she put a bunch of small rollers (which I protested) in the shorter layers around and on top of my head, and the slightly larger rollers in the longer, back-bottom half of my head. I had gone from surfer girl to Sideshow Bob! Third, everyone with curls knows that you can NEVER EVER comb curly hair once it's dry because it'll frizz. Yet, that's exactly what my mother's hair person did - she blew my hair dry without a diffuser and then began to separate the kinky curls with a pick. Fourth, instead of shiny wavy locks, my hair is crunchy, dry and brittle. It's also gone several shades lighter. Note: none of these things have ever happened with Markus.

Afraid of hurting anyone's feelings, I thanked my mother and her hair person for the lovely hair. My mother's hair person tried to give me a free pick so I could go home and continue to pick at my kinks to better resemble Adam Duritz's 'do. I politedly declined.
I said something later to my mother about how I thought her hair person's process was outdated, and my mother swore she could't tell the difference between my new 'fro and my old do. Well, I definitely can. Since the carnage, I've been wearing my hair in a tight bun and deep conditioning it on a daily basis in an effort to stem the damage. My mother had suggested I wear my hair down for K's wedding, but if she thinks that's going to happen now, she's got another thing coming.
I usually rock wavy hair, and while it looks totally natural (so I hear), it's not. It's what I call surfer girl hair, and I don't know how my hair guy Markus does it, but he's just brilliant. I explain that I want to look like I just spent the day at the beach and my hair is all wavy and surfer-girl-like, and he can magically just turn my straight asian hair into a shiny, tousled, tumbled, just the right amount of curly work of art that often has people with wavy hair asking me what I put in my hair to make it look so good. (When I tell them that it's a perm, they're surprised.)

Since I met Markus 6 years ago, no one else touches my hair.
Imagine my apprehension when my mother noted that my hair was getting straight, and I ought to get it re-permed in time for K's wedding this Saturday. She suggested I go to the person who's been doing her hair for close to the last 15 years. I tentatively agreed because I knew my mother was being thoughtful, but I was nervous.
I mean, I've seen my mother's hair, and there's definitely a generation gap in terms of what either of us deem good hair. My mother thinks my beachy waves look messy, and I think my mother's hair looks fried. My mother happens to think the fried frizzy look works for her, and carries around a pick which she uses to separate the strands of her very tight perm so her hair can look even bigger and frizzier. Imagine Arsenio Hall back in the days of fade haircuts. Now replace Arsenio with small asian lady, and that's probably my mom you're thinking of. All she needs to do is leave her pick sticking out of her hair, and she's done. As for me, I prefer a more natural look even if there's nothing natural about it. I haven't brushed or combed my hair in 8 years. I don't think I even own a pick, comb or brush. (Wait, I DO own a comb, but it's for my eyebrows.)

Worried that my mother's hair person wouldn't understand the concept of surfer-girl hair, I arrived at the salon armed with printouts of me with wavy hair, Beyonce with ginormo waves of hair cascading around her face (even though we all know those are hair extensions), Kate Hudson, Giselle with lazy curls galore (also extensions), yada yada. I also brought my own gel normalizer (to strip chemicals out of hair so it'll accept chemical processing better) and deep conditioner (for after the perm so your hair doesn't fry).
Remember what I've been saying about old Chinese people? Well, this person has been doing my mother's hair for almost 15 years, so she's been around for a while. She wasn't particularly receptive to my "new fangled" ideas, such as a gel normalizer and deep conditioning. Nor was she particularly interested in the pictures I had to show her of how I wanted my hair. She waved off all my suggestions, picked some really small rollers that I protested were too small, so I'd end up with kinky curls. I wanted a wave, not a fro. She then picked slightly larger rollers, which I still thought were too small, but she refused to go any bigger, insisting that these were as big as she could go (they really weren't). I should have just left the salon at that point, but I was trying to not offend my mother or her hair person, so I bore it out.
Which was a HUGE mistake, because I now LOOK LIKE A POODLE.

First, hair lady shampooed my hair and then treated it with the same chemical used to make the hair curl before she even put in rollers, so my hair was destined to be fried no matter what happened. Second, she put a bunch of small rollers (which I protested) in the shorter layers around and on top of my head, and the slightly larger rollers in the longer, back-bottom half of my head. I had gone from surfer girl to Sideshow Bob! Third, everyone with curls knows that you can NEVER EVER comb curly hair once it's dry because it'll frizz. Yet, that's exactly what my mother's hair person did - she blew my hair dry without a diffuser and then began to separate the kinky curls with a pick. Fourth, instead of shiny wavy locks, my hair is crunchy, dry and brittle. It's also gone several shades lighter. Note: none of these things have ever happened with Markus.

Afraid of hurting anyone's feelings, I thanked my mother and her hair person for the lovely hair. My mother's hair person tried to give me a free pick so I could go home and continue to pick at my kinks to better resemble Adam Duritz's 'do. I politedly declined.
I said something later to my mother about how I thought her hair person's process was outdated, and my mother swore she could't tell the difference between my new 'fro and my old do. Well, I definitely can. Since the carnage, I've been wearing my hair in a tight bun and deep conditioning it on a daily basis in an effort to stem the damage. My mother had suggested I wear my hair down for K's wedding, but if she thinks that's going to happen now, she's got another thing coming.
Boby can count!
I was telling my parents about CKY's dog Monty. Monty once found tennis balls at the dog park, and he had a lovely time chasing them. To Monty's disappointment, the next time he was at the dog park a few days later, there were no tennis balls to be found. A few days after that, Monty and CKY were about to head out to the dog park when Monty went to his toy chest and picked up a tennis ball. He carried that tennis ball in his mouth all the way to the dog park. Somehow, Monty was smart enough to remember that the last time he was at the park, there were no tennis balls, so he ought to bring his own.
Dad was completely unimpressed with the story. (I told you Boby's his fave family member!)
"So what?" he asked. "Our dog is way smarter than that. He can count."
It turns out that my parents were being silly when they realized that the dog counts. My dad is usually the one to walk Boby while everyone else walks alongside them. Once, mom fell behind and hid around the corner. Once Boby realized that my Mom wasn't walking alongside them, he refused to keep walking until he was able to find her. Instead, he walked in circles, sniffed all over the place and looked behind bushes, buildings, etc. I was impressed that the dog was able to register that someone was missing. Eventually, my mom walked up from wherever she was hiding, and the dog ran up to her and nipped at her until she caught up with everyone else. The next night, Boby nipped at my mother as my parents passed by the place my mother had gone "missing" the night before. He somehow remembered the previos evening. My parents think Boby's habits are innate, since he's part some sort of herding dog.
Dad was completely unimpressed with the story. (I told you Boby's his fave family member!)
"So what?" he asked. "Our dog is way smarter than that. He can count."
It turns out that my parents were being silly when they realized that the dog counts. My dad is usually the one to walk Boby while everyone else walks alongside them. Once, mom fell behind and hid around the corner. Once Boby realized that my Mom wasn't walking alongside them, he refused to keep walking until he was able to find her. Instead, he walked in circles, sniffed all over the place and looked behind bushes, buildings, etc. I was impressed that the dog was able to register that someone was missing. Eventually, my mom walked up from wherever she was hiding, and the dog ran up to her and nipped at her until she caught up with everyone else. The next night, Boby nipped at my mother as my parents passed by the place my mother had gone "missing" the night before. He somehow remembered the previos evening. My parents think Boby's habits are innate, since he's part some sort of herding dog.
20 December 2009
Who eats this shit?
Well, apparently I do. I met L for dinner on Friday, and we were supposed to go to a Japanese restaurant in Mongkok. It was a really long wait, so we dropped into the restaurant next door where there were plenty of seats available. We quickly realized why.
The restaurant had a bathroom theme! We sat on toilets, our table was a sink, and our food came in dishes shaped like urinals, bathtubs, sinks and toilet bowls. It was gross, and that's just the food, not the decor!
I looked up the restaurant once I got back to my parents' place, and it's a whole chain of bathroom and shit themed restaurants all over Taiwan and Hong Kong that got its start selling chocolate soft serve in squat toilet shaped dishes. One of the founders got the idea while reading manga on the can. Go figure.
The wall was covered in urinals which were all shiny and sparkly just in time for the holidays.
The ceiling fixtures were fashioned like toilet plungers, and the lights are "poo" shaped. Oh, shit!
Our Japanese style hotpot dish came in a toilet bowl. It would have tasted fine if the broth wasn't just pure milk, which made all the veggies and meats taste like they were lactating. (Not that I would know.)
The restaurant had a bathroom theme! We sat on toilets, our table was a sink, and our food came in dishes shaped like urinals, bathtubs, sinks and toilet bowls. It was gross, and that's just the food, not the decor!
I looked up the restaurant once I got back to my parents' place, and it's a whole chain of bathroom and shit themed restaurants all over Taiwan and Hong Kong that got its start selling chocolate soft serve in squat toilet shaped dishes. One of the founders got the idea while reading manga on the can. Go figure.
From Modern Toilet Restaurant |
From Modern Toilet Restaurant |
From Modern Toilet Restaurant |
13 December 2009
Grandma got herself an iPhone
Remember when I said my Grandma was a cool old lady? Well, she went out and got herself an iphone. She saw a commercial on TV, and decided that she absolutely HAD to have a phone with a built in camera, so she got herself an iPhone the very next day. Nevermind that she doesn't even know how to use a microwave yet. I'm sure she'll figure out how to use the touchscreen and her new bluetooth headset in NO TIME. Just let me charge her batteries, put her phone together, sync her headset, and show her how to make phone calls first...
What Grandma really needs is a really simple, easy to use cell phone with REALLY BIG BUTTONS. Windsurfing buddy E once told me that one of his daughters has a cell phone with just three buttons, and each of those buttons were programmed to speed dial something specific so his child could reach someone in the event of an emergency. With the quickly aging baby boomer population, cell phone companies ought to develop something similar for old folks. Remember old-school cell phone technology (e.g. briefcase sized cell phones)? While I love that my phones keep getting smaller, sleeker and faster, there ought to be phones that are targeted towards people with shaky hands, bad eyesight and poor memories. Throw in a built in camera, and I'll be to put that phone on Grandma's wishlist. :-)
What Grandma really needs is a really simple, easy to use cell phone with REALLY BIG BUTTONS. Windsurfing buddy E once told me that one of his daughters has a cell phone with just three buttons, and each of those buttons were programmed to speed dial something specific so his child could reach someone in the event of an emergency. With the quickly aging baby boomer population, cell phone companies ought to develop something similar for old folks. Remember old-school cell phone technology (e.g. briefcase sized cell phones)? While I love that my phones keep getting smaller, sleeker and faster, there ought to be phones that are targeted towards people with shaky hands, bad eyesight and poor memories. Throw in a built in camera, and I'll be to put that phone on Grandma's wishlist. :-)
11 December 2009
In Hong Kong
I haven't been to Hong Kong to visit my parents in so long, I feel very much the stranger here. Especially now that my parents have moved to the New Territories. I'm here for a few weeks, so I've fallen into a routine. Most days, I get up, walk a few times around the manmade lake that sits at the center of my parents' housing development, walk around the neighborhood a bit, and then head back to my parents' to do 30 minutes of yoga. Still, I'm more inactive than usual, and have a few new inches on my waist to show for it.
The lake
My parents live so far from downtown, I can see Shenzhen China from their home.
The waterfowl
The coi
A neighbor's dog. Everyone that lives here has a dog. Some families have several.
The neighbors are ready for Christmas
The lake
From Hong Kong |
My parents live so far from downtown, I can see Shenzhen China from their home.
From Hong Kong |
The waterfowl
From Hong Kong |
The coi
From Hong Kong |
A neighbor's dog. Everyone that lives here has a dog. Some families have several.
From Hong Kong |
The neighbors are ready for Christmas
From Hong Kong |
08 December 2009
An awesome hair salon in Hong Kong!!!
I am in desperate need of a haircut. After a month of moving, 5 weeks camping out of my car, and then a month settling into northern California, my hair needs HELP!
I've been putting off a haircut for the following reasons:
1. I didn't trust anybody to do my hair but the hair guy I've been seeing in NYC for the last 6 years,
2. My hair guy didn't charge that much, but he gave amazing cuts. I'd have to pay $300 just to get a similar cut anywhere else,
3. My brother's getting married, and if my hair gets screwed up, there won't be time for it to grow back.
Well, I can't hold out any longer. I finally pulled the trigger and went to visit Namir at Hanim Hair Salon in Hong Kong. For HKD150 (divide by 8 to figure out the approximate US dollars), she managed to replicate my NYC hair guy's square layer cut. That was all I wanted in a haircut -- no one to reinvent the wheel, just someone to give me the same haircut I've been getting for the last 5 years. It was perfect, and the price was right.
If you're ever in Hong Kong, give Namir at Hanim Hair a call at 64487171. She's absolutely fantastic.
I've been putting off a haircut for the following reasons:
1. I didn't trust anybody to do my hair but the hair guy I've been seeing in NYC for the last 6 years,
2. My hair guy didn't charge that much, but he gave amazing cuts. I'd have to pay $300 just to get a similar cut anywhere else,
3. My brother's getting married, and if my hair gets screwed up, there won't be time for it to grow back.
Well, I can't hold out any longer. I finally pulled the trigger and went to visit Namir at Hanim Hair Salon in Hong Kong. For HKD150 (divide by 8 to figure out the approximate US dollars), she managed to replicate my NYC hair guy's square layer cut. That was all I wanted in a haircut -- no one to reinvent the wheel, just someone to give me the same haircut I've been getting for the last 5 years. It was perfect, and the price was right.
If you're ever in Hong Kong, give Namir at Hanim Hair a call at 64487171. She's absolutely fantastic.
Labels:
hanim hair,
hong kong,
square layer cut,
surfer girl hair,
vidal sassoon
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