"Behold. The Wonderful World of Generics.

The first picture (imagine you see one) was the one I was duped into buying because I mentioned 'wanying' to the woman of the medicinal hall and she looked as if a bright spark had lit up - 'I know just the one!' - then exclaimed 'chihtonggao' like she was completing the slogan, and instantly gave this one to me. This was apparently the one that tourists came in droves to buy.

Then, most suspiciously, I realized it was made in HK, and lo! I beheld another 'wanyingchihtonggao' (imagine second picture) on the shelf above the abovementioned, and it was the one in the second picture. This one was green too! And it was made in Singapore. It was the right size too. But the only thing that didn't fit the description was this: hueyhwa.

Thus, I was duped yet again.

Undaunted, I soldiered on my search for truth. The existence of that one and only hweyhwawanyingchihtonggao. In the world of generics, where could one find truth? How could one see the light?

In my perverse dedication to the search, I stumbled into another medicinal hall. This one looked highly disorganized. An unlikely habitat for the said treasure. But I knew, it was at the deepest and darkest times, that one saw light, and knew that truth still existed. (Worthy quote from LotR: "There is always hope...") People were everywhere in the shop. To be sure, business was good. So I asked the magic question, the question that would lead to the fulfillment of the quest.

It was as if I heard 'BINGO!' when she said 'YES! We have it! Hweyhwa!"and called out for the shop assistant to hand me the stuff.

I nailed it.

I nailed it.

I saw it, the jade, the rarest beauty, the aqua green, shining at me from its ambient, all-encompassing plastic shrink wrap!

It was....

THE...

HWEYHWAWANYINGCHIHTONGGAO!!!

I really hit the jackpot this time! It was amazing, the feeling. It was as if I'd came, seen, battled, and, finally, conquered!

I have overcome. I have fought the good fight. Run the race. I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of "Miss Divine Chinatown Searchfulness", which ET, the royal Empress, will award to me on that day - and only to me, not others who fell for the counterfeit."

[Credits: Thus concludes the story of the Chinatown traipsy, which borrows from its great literary predecessors, "The Holy Bible" (New International Version, inspired by the awesome power of H.S.J.C. God, "hershirbi" (Chang Hsiao Feng), "The Lord of the Rings" (JRR Tolkien), and lastly, "Archie" (urrr, by Archie Comics?)]

OOPS!

I got the day wrong! In my excitement I thought the Empress on Tuesday but she really was arriving Wednesday.

Check out her email to me:

"I don't arrive till Jan-14 which is a Wednesday...
why are you taking Tuesday early off??!!

Sure you can come to the Fullerton. I'll call you after I check in and I'll wait in my room for your grande entrance. But not on Tues please.
..."

Haha! By the power of the FAUX PAS!

I had an ask-around of the places worth going to at the Esplanade, where I was planning to take the Empress (minus the red carpet). I'd definitely be taking her to Max Brenner's, after Kids and 'poo loved it so much. Of the few people I asked, there were 3 votes that went to THIS PLACE. I thought that it was a sign. I've dined with her on a few special occasions (on appointment) when I was in Taipei. The first time I'd dinner with her alone, we did Italian at Olive Garden. The second time on an outing with her, we did Japanese (hsiung ba) - her treat. And the last, tragic but for the fact it was GREAT Italian (Bellini), was her farewell lunch treat for me. That was when SARS'd broken out and everyone was in a state of panic. Not our best time together, but in one of the most upmarket restaurants. For that matter, the only time I really went to lavish places was with her, and Trappist.

Meanwhile, I continue trudging through the creation process for her present. It's really tough, and I can't quite put down in words what it is. It's a plastic farm animal and plastic dinosaur collage in a clear plastic container with a lid, inspired by George Orwell's Animal Farm and Noah's Ark from the Bible, featuring Captain Underpants. Sort of a 'summary at a glance' of the spiritual states and personality traits I've exhibited in the past year ever since I started to really absorb her person. There's an accompanying essay for her that I spent quite some time writing and researching (George Orwell's intense). All in all, she's probably gonna think I'm ridiculous, as always, but I hope she likes it.

But meanwhile, I'm sweating, working hard.

The Empress called me Saturday morning. It was surreal, not only because I'd just woken up at that point, early, from a late night - of, what was it, researching for the gift I was making for her? - but because the phone was on silent and I wouldn't've known it was ringing except for the lightsaber-like glow (you know my ah beng phone) flickering and dancing. I saw a Taiwan number on the display and in my semi-conscious state, must've felt all the vibes in my body signal it was her. The number was a familiar one (I'd called her home before) and so I go 'Hello?' and it's the familiar, worshipped voice, sounding a lot more cheery than usual, for sure, and telling me 'This is Esther.' Haha. Sounds like, This is the President. Even the the US President himself probably couldn't inspire such respect in me!

So she goes on about this miracle cream I am supposed to get for the Emperor. So she tells me it's called wan4ying4zhi3tong4gao1 and the brand is hui4hua2, with an aqua colored box, and tells me how the Emperor swears by the stuff. It was a hilarious twenty-something-minute conversation, and every word must've been seared into my brain. Or so I thought. I wrote it all down, actually, the names and everything, but in my enthusiasm, when I left for the Chinatown traipsy, I completely forgot to take my jottings with me! As a result, I went on a rollercoaster ride to 2 Chinese Medicinal Halls, through a world of generic pain-stoppers before I found THE ONE. It was quite an eventful day for me, d'rake would know because I'd parasited off his kindly sms company the entire afternoon for the sheer excitement of anticipation of the Empress. This is like the Return of the King. Haha.

Also bought some other CNY foodies for the Empress though I know she's gonna detest carrying all the stuff in addition to the Electric Medibalm (yes, that's what it's called) I managed to buy for her - a dozen bottles - but when they're all in a bag, she can't return them to me.

I proceeded to Aunt PS's house for the Deppfest with cousin Softy and Kids. I was amazed at the extent of fandom I observed in Softy, who's always been, I thought, a more cool and somewhat unperturbed sort. It was good to see that 'A Woman of Passion' was now a possible description of her. We watched Edward Scissorshands and Chocolat (yes, again!). To think I'm doing those cousin-get-togethers that I never really had in my childhood! I must say it's very pleasant. And more so because we live in close proximity.

Sunday wasn't worth too much of a mention because it was spent, other than for church, on panicking and rushing the Empress' birthday present (her birthday was on Christmas Day! AUGH!) and a short movie clip to accompany it. We also had a farewell dinner for Kids and Ahm at Crystal Jade. Yes, Ahm, 84, goes gallivanting off to Xiamen to settle some business affairs. We be from a family of mettle-lic women. Do not underestimate us. You will be assimilated.

And through this all, the stomach continues its furore. No more Thai for me for this half a year. No.

---

Color:Black

OK.

BREATHE, BREATHE.

SLOWLY.

INHALE. EXHALE. INHALE. EXHALE.

THE EMPRESS JUST CALLED ME.

SHE'S REALLY COMING.

I CAN'T BELIEVE IT.

I'M SO PSYCHED.

TUESDAY.

D DAY.

SHE JUST CALLED.

AND I'M OFF TO CHINATOWN.

TO LOOK FOR SOME TRADITIONAL MIRACLE CURE

SHE NEEDS FOR THE EMPEROR.

NOW INHALE.

NOW EXHALE.

DON'T FORGET THE WORDS

"AQUA BLUE STICKER"

"BLUE BOX"

[in mandarin]

"PAIN STOPPING CREAM"

"HWEI HWA"

"STRONG SMELL OF EUCALYPTUS"
"PLASTIC BOTTLE"
"NEAR BEE CHENG HENG"

I've updated the best shots of my flab under my VT website. The link can be found on the left, under my mugshot, at 'i'. I've put it under 'Southern Thailand' though it's a lousy description of the page itself. Have yet to put in my thoughts though. If those are considered dispensable, don't check back later.

Back to the same hotel (the Royal Palm Resortel) at the same beach (Patong). I don't know how much more I can take that place, with its germination of sleazy Western tourists salivating over nubile Thai female bodies. It's carnal - this corruption of the locals by foreign influence. It's not just their beaches and reefs we damage. It's their people. And here I am, in sun-soaked Phuket, a provocator of the tourist culture here: the eternal smell of sunscreen hanging heavily in the air, bikini-clad and topless cronies, old farts in their thongs in all their sagging glory, ominous stains on pavements, dog poo booby traps, dark-skinned local solicitors draping themselves shamelessly, unhappily over their Western clients - some less ugly than themselves..WELCOME TO PHUKET.

Don't ask me why I stayed again at the Royal Palm. I positively hate that place. It's shabby, has absolutely no view from the window, nor any form of soundproofing from the show nights (read: every night) of thunderous pounding from the vocal vibrations of Mr. Tuesday Night Vocals. Their service sucks, and the best of the hotel breakfast spread is plain bread (though 'dee would think otherwise).

We visited some new places this time, though. Yanui beach and Promthep Cape, which were never before visited. Yanui beach is quite nice. It's a very small and private beach owned by the very enterprising boss of an eatery by the beach. She owns all the beach chairs (200 Baht a pair) and gets revenue from them, as well as the eatery. There is no other civilization in view, so she pretty much has the monopoly. We also got to pass by slowly, the Kata and Karon beaches. Sunset Viewpoint is a lighthouse on Promthep Cape. I don't know any of the historical or culturally significant facts whatsoever, so am not going to fib about them here. The day ended with dinner at Danang Restaurant at Chalong Bay. My best memories of the day were perhaps of scrounging around the little pools and rocks on the beach with Kids, when we attempted to scoop up mudskippers and gobies and observed strange forms of sealife (including a millipede looking thing) muddling about in their habitat. There were many crabs on the rocks, and most of them scuttled in such as way as to alarm whoever was nearby (read: me).

But the climax of the trip was our 2 day trip to the Similans. We lived on a boat, the South Siam III, and made 7 dives in 2 days. It was exhilarating, the trip. These are the best dives I've ever done. Well, fine, you may say, because I'd only done about 9 dives before the Similans, but the sights that we saw under water were spectacular. It would've been even more spectacular if the losers we were saw the 5-meter manta ray that everyone else on the same dive did, but well, it was good enough (pathetic attempt to comfort self). A lot of puffers, garden eels, leopard sharks, longnosed filefish, trumpetfish, blue-spotted rays, lionfish, anglerfish, flounder, mackerel (embarrassingly I thought these were barracuda), cardinal fish, clownfish, skeleton fish, moray eels, and others. The underwater life there is just vibrant!

And well, out of the water, we met our lanky divemaster, The Spy, skinny, long-haired and humorous English bloke whom we fell in love with instantly. I meant Kids and I, of course. Knowing how we always develop an affinity for our divemasters. Except Disflate. We had so much fun just hanging out and talking with The Spy and Tattoos, another English divemaster, who was also the boat manager. Tattoos was a lot cuter, actually, because he had these eyes that were mesmerizing. Um, well, not quite. Perhaps 'charming' would be a better description. But then again, I am not very discerning when it comes to ang moh guys, unfortunately. We conveniently forgot about D when we met The Spy and Tattoos. That is, until we were back on Patong beach and needed a place to hang out at. No, it really isn't like that at all. We just can't decide between the two and since they're both not ours we can have them all! Wahaha!

It was sad leaving the boat on the second day, because Kids and I had originally hoped to extend our stay on the boat but failed to, thanks to a major disagreement with 'dee and 'poo. Squished up on the tiny little speedboat with 20 other refugees, watching the beautiful, sad sun lower itself in the horizon, it just felt like suddenly everything inside had died and one was left with a deep, dark gaping emptiness that nothing could fill. It's funny I don't even feel like that when my plays have ended anymore. Kids and I will aim to go for 4 liveaboards a year henceforth.

Our kitchen on Patong was Song Pee Nong once again, and this time I made friends with Yu, the very effectively billingual waitress. She was such a sunshine girl, dark-skinned and happy, the emblem of wholesome goodness that an untainted life in Thailand should be. I was fortunate enough in being able to hear her views on prostitution in these parts, and much as I'd tried to escape the fact, I found it was true. They were all - each one of them escorting the Western men - prostituting themselves. Some chose it as a profession, but others had not a choice: you could see the sadness in their eyes.

Unfortunately for me, I came down with a bout of food poisoning (a Thai salad was the likely culprit), but fortunately it was on the second last day so it wasn't too bad although it was an anti-climax to an otherwise perfect vacation. I went to the doctor this morning - thanks for asking.

I have so much to look forward to now. The Empress is coming! Well, she thinks she may be though it's not confirmed so I might be disappointed. But here's hoping! Plus - I start work with DDB next Friday!

---

Color:Black

MAN OH MAN I'M PSYCHED! THE EMPRESS MIGHT BE COMING TO TOWN! I'M SO PSYCHED ON THE EVE OF MY DEPARTURE TO PHUKET AND I THINK I'M NOT GONNA BE ABLE TO SLEEP! I ABSOLUTELY ADORE HER! MAN OH MAN OH MAN OH MAN OH MAN! I'M INCOHERENT AND RUBBISHY AND NOT THE LEAST POETIC BECAUSE I'M JUST OH-SO-HIGH IN THE AIR NOW!

And tomorrow D and Phuket await!

Oh joy oh joy oh joy!

I've had my reflections and resolutions noted with Loverbabe, so I don't see the need to publish them here. No fulfilling of cliches here. At least not to start the new year with.

The 1st of January begins, most years, in a typical way - that of going to church for the New Year Induction service for office-bearers in the new year. Yes, I was involved, because of my nominal role as a mini Sunday School teacher. I don't mean I'm petite, really, 'little' means Nominal. Not like 'little' as in 'little 'licious'. But 'poo made a really good point. She was anointed as Elder today at the church - I would know. I squirmed into the Fellowship of the Ring..of (Praying) Elders to get the pictures on stage. It was a laugh. I was so random, more on that later - and when I asked her how it felt to be an Elder now, she said it really was not so big a deal. Every position in church, small or big, visible or invisible, is significant in the eyes of God because He is the ultimate one to whom ministry matters. That's my wise 'poo! I love me 'poo! Not because she makes me feel good, but because she's THE STUFF! But she also said for some reason man seemed to expect more from an Elder. Which is really crap, because pastor or man-on-the-street, we are the same people redeemed from sin. It doesn't mean just because we serve, we are saints - though we should never stop working towards it.

I caught the process on tape, this rather farcical sight of all men/women in black suits crowding around a kneeling Elder (also in a black suit) to put their hands on her/his head and pray for her/him. I had absolutely nothing to do with that party, except I was dressed alike - yes, the suit - and needed to take some shots of 'poo on her all-important occasion. Have intention of doing a birthday video of her, actually. Hope that works out. Apparently one of the choir members on stage was observing me, on squirmish tiptoe, snaking between the Elders, trying to creep my way into the Ring of prayer and arms and found it hilarious. He told 'poo later the lengths at which I'd gone to to record this historical (?) event. I assume she was touched. Not!

Was completely taken by surprise that 'licious and Honey had another present for me. It was a blue notebook (I've updated my birthday gifts list) that was personalized on every single page. With food (McShithead's - We ain't lovin' it! - but food nonetheless) drawings, which I must say, were done quite, quite well. I was happy and completely amused by the scratchings in the book, which kept me entertained during a rather lengthy meeting later.

It was a great day to start the new year off with, because we'd a family gathering in the evening. As I come to speak more with Aunts Persevering Steadfastness (Aunt PS), Paint Brush (PB) and cousins Softy, Kimchi and Elf, I've come to realize, in a profoundly abstract sort of way, that I loved my family. We really have grown together, and I suppose there's bitching sometimes - and witching - but I do appreciate how far we've come. Life really is a journey, and we have been given these companions to walk with and grow (albeit a little haphazardly most times) beside. Why have I not viewed it this way ever? It's true you can't choose your family, but given the choice, I wouldn't. No. I wouldn't. Because I think they have been perfect. Not perfect as people, but a perfect combination of people. Perfect combination? When, I'm sure there are times when in the privacy of our minds, us snobs turn our noses up at each other in snivelling disagreement?

Yes. Perfect.

To be sure, we are all very strong-headed people (and would kill each other ultimately if marooned on an island together), more anti-social and introverted than we seem. We are also, at most times, profoundly unhappy, profoundly sad, profoundly confused, profoundly hateful, or all of the above. It's in the genes - they don't call us family for nuthin' - and I wouldn't have it any other way. Simply because - I know that's also God's gift to us. I know that we can love deeply and think more deeply than others, and we were meant to understand God even more abstractly and profoundly than others - even in times of profound misery. Our weakness is that our wilfulness makes for great skepticism and cynicism, coupled with the ability to hurt others with a mere word, or a withering look (even the killer stare is hereditary), but everything is a double-edged sword: we can choose to wield it as a great arbitrator of faith, dedication, passion, and sensitivity to others - which I hope we will soon spur each other to do - or as a weapon to kill and destroy.

We have been very blessed by the Lord. Let it not be said in vain. We have been unhappy, and I wouldn't say we're completely happy (whoever invented 'Happy Family' or 'Happily ever after'? It's mostly BS and the closest notion of it is a sad card game some are reminiscent of in youth but no one plays anymore) or perfect, but we are good together, and - you hear it again - everything's a journey. All we need to do is get better a day at a time.

I know I have been obstinate and wilful (to Aunt PS, especially) in my youth - and I still display that often - and I am grateful that she has forgiven me for my childishness in the past. She has encouraged me greatly in an increasing way of late, as I get to sit down and talk with her during our increasingly enjoyable family gatherings (FGs. Kids: They're the same initials as Friendship Groups!). My cousins are young and potent (erm, like robust, y'know?), and I hope for them they quickly discover, at this young age, how powerful youth can be, when combined with the Power of the Holy Spirit. To know deeply where you're headed and how you're going to get there is the best thing that can happen on a journey.

Did the folks at DDB find me impressive? I know now it wasn't me. It was what the Creator's sowed and cultivated in me, through the Empress, through 'poo, with 'dee's genes (these are the giants of influence in my life), not mine at all. Our God is awesome. The Spirit we have with us is to be reverenced...but I am ashamed how my words are inadequate substance for the fact.

And then.

I apologize for ending the very inspiring (only to myself, as usual - quite unfortunately) entry this way but -

After I got home from the FG, Kids and I giggled ourselves to sleep.

---

Color:Black

The fourth birthday get-together occurred last night. And for the second time Out of the Pan was made my birthday dining place. That makes 2 out of 4 of the times I had my birthday celebrated for me. So I decided to try the Garbanzo Crepe that I'd wanted to try the first time. It was good, not excessively beany (a pity) so I wasn't flatulent (bigger pity - NOT!). Beaucoup de remercies to d'rake for paying for my much-coveted Garbanzo getaway - and, if I might add, in a complete occasion of coincidence - a metallic green LAMY fountain pen! I paused a little when I first saw the color, but when I showed it to Kids later in the night, we both agreed that it was a very trendy and unique green. But if anyone would've known about me and fountain pens, I think it would have been d'rake.

Thus far, the Happy Haul:

[G]
1. DDB job
2. The role in the Jade
3. All the dramas I've done this year
4. My Ministry and kids for the next year
5. The fam and all the things below.

['dee]
1. black leather belt (I'm wearing this now)
2. new suit
3. new pants
4. new striped shirt (I'm wearing it now)
5. Titus watch (Wearing this too)
6. TE necklace and pendant (Wait a minute, am wearing this too!)
7. black leather bag (Brought it with me)

[Poops]
1. Captain Underpants toy
2. Captain Underpants and Wedgie Woman book

[Loverbabe]
1. Blue Ikea lamp
2. Nicest card of the Year

[Ammonia]
1. Microphone

[Agent]
1. Photo frame
2. Plastic thing
3. Notebook

[d'rake]
1. green (not silver, nor transparent) LAMY fountain pen

['licious + Honey]
1. bizarre collection of round boxes
2. sweet wrapper
3. balloon
4. Bizarre Blue notebook with every page personalized
5. Little pig keychain (personalized too!)
6. Lots of crazy fun

[Chaos]
1. new shades

[Kids]
1. Half an illuminated globe (the other half was for Christmas)

[Ahm]
1. $50 ang pow

['tiejo]
1. $20 ang pow

[Driver]
1. phonecall

[B]
1. phonecall

[Mosquits]
1. Plaque that says 'I'm not deaf - I'm just ignoring you'

Gee. This is an awfully special year because it's the first time 'dee decided to get me a real significant gift for my birthday, and for starting work. 'poo actually gave me 2 pens this year. A Waterman rollerball she got from some insignificant party but chosen by Q (so it's still special) and a Sheaffer fountain pen she got for me for Christmas!

Maybe all that's lacking now is something from the Empress - but that's wishful thinking. One must always learn to be content.

And I am! I fixed up the lamp that Loverbabe bought after I got home last night! It's so pretty! At least it's the prettiest thing I have in my entire room - reminiscent of her - and both 'poo and Kids liked it so much (although Kids dissed me with "that's not very you". Roight. Roight. Pretty is not me). Thanks, Kids.

Once again, here's saying aloud - Down with sexual stereotypes! I hate pink and baby blue! (Where'd that come from?)

---

Color:Black

Actually a white one, with its insides painted blue, that came with a rubbery light bulb (it IS as intriguing as it sounds - not that I've tried bouncing it off the floor). That was what Loverbabe gave me for my 24th birthday. 24 is actually her birthdate. The gift was special. It showed that thought had been put into selecting something - I admit I'm the hardest person to please when it came to presents. But if people knew me well enough they'd know that my secret (well, it's no longer secret) fetish is fountain pens. Yes, I love fountain pens. There's something romantic about the way ink flows over paper, as sentiment seeps into the white. And jazz CDs (but I've quite a few of them so it's hard to choose). And books - yes, Captain Underpants sits well with me.

It's nice to receive presents when it's things you'd want, not presents that people used to own and use but decided they could throw them away so now you became the 'worthy recipient' of them. Or presents that showed how much the giver tried to find the cheapest credible present just to satisfy the need to give a present because of 'face' issues. How ironic. If one wanted to not 'lose face', one should not give such presents, because the receiver 'loses face' and so does the giver. Year after year after year, I put on some smile and graciously accept these meaningless gifts. Honestly, I don't NEED anything so while it's nice to receive presents, I'd rather cash any time. Otherwise some voucher from a bookstore. It can be $5 or $2. Better still, give me a card with words that mean something (I am a big sucker for words) - if you have nothing to say to me, then just forget about my birthday, or just drop me an sms (a blog entry 'in honor of the day' is a pleasant surprise too - thanks, Pao!). I wonder that people think me so petty that I would mind not getting a present from them. Even getting together for a drink at some booney town beats the heck out of a thoughtless present.

Loverbabe's present satisfied many dimensions - those of taste, appreciation, sensitivity, gastronomy (yes, she bought me dinner too), observation, and sentiment. Although I loved my new blue lamp, it was the words she gave me that quite blew me away. Nothing fanciful - they don't say 'keep it simple' for nothing - but it's the best birthday card I've received this year (or as far as I could remember).

I am probably one of the worst givers of presents myself, and am very bad with birthdays because I believe there are friends whom I treat well outside of birthdays so I don't need to pay special attention to them (Same theory with regard to Christmas). Another way of saying it would be that I treat them badly Christmas/birthday or not, so there's no pressure to out-perform myself on special occasions?

Of course, I've always been the extreme misfit because I believe birthdays are quite significant only to the one concerned, anyway, and maybe one's parents (though I doubt it. 'poo forgot to wish me. I'd to call to remind her. 'dee forgot. He didn't wish me at all.). And if even my parents forgot, there's less pressure for my friends to remember! So I'm always surprised when people remember, or care. No self-pity. I love my birthday whether people remember or not.

There were 2 other very special presents yesterday. A call from Driver, and another from B. It was hilarious when B thought I was kidding when I mentioned it was my birthday - she doesn't know this and the only reason I volunteered the information was because I knew she wouldn't feel obliged to send me a present from Taipei. We are secure and mature. Now Driver, my old friend, called me up and just hearing her voice made me happy. It's something about how easy it is to pop a mail, drop an sms, that birthday cards and letters, phonecalls, become highly personalized. OK, maybe the fact both the calls were long-distance made me feel more special but I believe hardly anyone would call just to say Happy Birthday nowadays. I wouldn't.

In my twenty-fourth year, I have come to treasure, more than anything, moments: time that people are willing to spend on me - for that is lavishness in the age of the instantaneous, and that is something I believe is the best gift a person can give.

Time. Presence. Sentiment.

Thus concludes the Hermit's satire on birthdays and presents.

---

Color:Grey