today's lunch : black olive bread with mashed avocado n mozzarella cheese, mixed with basil-mint-almond pesto, served with a side of salt n vinegar potato chips. YUM.

n dessert? chilled fresh star fruit. it's in season now.

To think that life is unfair at times and that I have tried enough. This article puts me to shame and makes me realize that some people have it worse and that I should be grateful with the state of life that I have.

Link:
my life as an undocumented immigrant

Today’s science has gone crazy. This is definitely more than thinking outside the box. I mean, edible meat made from human feces? EEEWW...

China is currently in the planning stage to built rail connections to South East Asia and Europe. The need for bullet-speed trains is increasing and getting to China is going to be made much easier in the future. When it’s going to be finished? Who knows. But this I like.

Source:
china rail links

Haha… LOL… I know it’s mean to laugh at this but it’s just so funny. You’ve got to love the Japanese for this.

Would YOU eat this?

for an explanation on the origin and making of the cheese, go to the link:
http://youtu.be/vZ_-JzM-YQg

This is SO TRUE!! The attached video shows how the quality of today’s education system is still the same as yesterday’s old system, thus a disadvantage to today’s society. It focuses on the education system in USA but I think the whole concept has a more global meaning and CAN be applied to the rest of the world.

tell me, is it bad to be called an atheist?

there have been many blogs here on xanga that dealt with the issue of atheist vs. religion. over the years, i have learned the positives and negatives of both sides and can see and accept certain arguments from both sides. thus, i'm not sure i'm capable to make a judgment to say that one is better than the other.

the more I learn about religions though, the more i believe that despite the many existence of religions, all of their gods are actually ONE SAME GOD, with ONE SAME GOAL, which is to live in peace. before you start to banter my view, please know that i grew up in a muslim country, educated in protestant schools, and brought up in a household of buddhists. all these before i ventured out for college in overseas where i hugged the idea of living religion-less. i've been to mosques, sang at churches, burned incense sticks at temples, and even prayed in various religious houses. so yeah, i am familiar with the teachings of the mentioned religions, thanks to my upbringing.

here's my dilemma. i do think there is a higher power, but i don't and probably won't choose a single religion to live my life by. I choose to live life spiritually than religiously, while still respecting the many religions exist around me. given that i don't live my life for a certain religious believe, does this qualify me as an atheist? if that is so, is it a bad thing?

i guess what I really like to know is… does each one of us human beings HAVE to be religious and CHOOSE one religion over the other? does choosing to be religion-less qualify one to be treated as an outcast and a sinner even if there is no law (that I know of) saying that it is so?

what are your thoughts on this?...

Please take the time to watch this…

It was a long time ago. We had a thing for each other, ever since we met for the first time. But even then we knew this thing between us won’t bloom into something more than a mere friendship. Not when given the circumstances at that time in both of our lives. What could have been was never initiated. Thus, what could have been could never be. Years passed. Now our eyes meet again. Once again, circumstances got in the way. A reconnection is destined to be brief. A touch is felt. A kiss is returned. We both have grown up a bit more. We both understood the closeness is worth savored and cherished. We both have accepted that what once could never be is to be repeated to our discontentment. Maybe someday when our paths crossed again. Maybe in another lifetime. Maybe then…

I opened up my eyes in an instant. Is this really happening? No, can’t be. She can’t be that bold. I tried to close my eyes again but each time she “accidently” brushed against or slightly fondled my crotch I couldn’t help but to get startled and had my eyes opened again. I couldn’t relax. That’s it. I have to do something, I thought. I have to say something. Then I got her attention and finally softly said the word “No”. I didn’t want to be mean but I knew where it was going. She was a little surprised, but she nodded.

It wasn’t a full minute yet when she stopped massaging my thighs. She tapped me on my shoulder again. I opened my eyes. She had that puzzled look on her face. She asked “Bu yao….. (mimicking an up and down movement with her right fist)..…?” She was basically asking “Don’t want a hand job?”. Once again I softly said “No”. Then I sat up, place my hands on my legs and said “Focus here. Here. Foot massage”. She nodded. She understood me. Hey, if I have to pay RMB180 for this service, I might as well try to get my money’s worth, right?

It wasn’t long before the phone on the bedside table rang, indicating my 60-minute session was up. I looked at my watch, then at her. Yes, it’s time. I got up and put my kimono rope back on. We exchanged a smile. She led me out to show the way. She had her head down the whole time. She looked embarrassed. I felt sorry for her. I’d like to think that I was being a gentleman, but deep down I couldn’t help but think that she was probably a little pissed. Pissed for being rejected. Embarrassed for her failure in using her china-doll beauty to stir the blood flow all the way down to my crotch. What would she say to her co-workers, I imagine? Would she be all spiteful and curse me and call me names, or would she feel lucky to have someone respect her for at least 60 minutes? I won’t know. I can only hope for the positive.

I took another shower and got dressed. There was a metal tray by the towel stack with a note of RMB20 laminated, indicating that they were expecting a tip. And so I left them a RMB20. I stepped out to the lobby and found my friend, L, waiting for me. All smiles. She was the one who brought me to this massage parlor. I went to her and immediately with a straight face said “You owe me dinner”. She frowned. She didn’t get it. I then whispered to her ear “You do know this is a massage plus plus parlor, right?”. Instantly her eyes were wide open, her jaw dropped, and not a trace of smile visible on her face. She had NO clue. I tilted my head to signal her to step out of the lobby and said “C’mon, we’ll talk more outside”.

I explained to her what happened as we were crossing the street. She then apologized for not knowing the sort of place she was introducing me to. “How did you know this place anyway?” I asked. “A female friend gave the recommendation” she replied. “Well, she must’ve enjoyed the plus plus service herself, then” I sneered at her. “No way, she’s married!” she corrected me. “So? Just because she’s married it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have fun on a side” I corrected her back. “They do have male masseurs there and a separate floor for women, you know”. L went silent. She was lost for words. We looked at each other and then we just laughed. A lesson learned.

where in the world the location where this video is made? awesome landscape, especially the snow covered mountains towards the end of the video.

UPDATE (july 2012): the original video clip has been removed by the user and i can't find it anywhere on youtube. however, here is the song...

BOKUWA KIMI NI KOI WO SURU

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzBPTVgBvsg&feature=related

She walked in as I was positioning myself to sit on the edge of the massage table. She looked pretty in Turkish-blue. Too pretty, too sexy, and too posh looking for a masseur. She was young too. Must be in her early 20s. She was all smiles. She said something in Chinese. I replied “err… What?” to clarify that I don’t speak her mother tongue. Realizing my inability to understand her language, she pointed to the bed. “You want me to lay there? It’s dirty” I said with a disapproval expression on my face. The bed was obviously recently used or maybe the night before. The sheet was wrinkled and looked half torn away from being tightly tucked in on the sides of the mattress. She walked towards the bed, straightened the sheet, and laid down a towel on top, like one would roll out a carpet for a customer to see its pattern. It’s too late to turn back now, I thought to myself. I just have to go with it and see how far she’ll go. I’ve got to have faith. This may not be what I thought this might be.

So I took off my kimono rope. With only the kimono shorts on, I laid myself down on top of the towel, stomach down. She began to massage my shoulders. She had no strength. She was all soft and gentle. This is not what I was paying for. At first I thought maybe it’s all gentle to start with but eventually more pressure will be applied. Minutes passed and she was still not doing her job well. So I said “Stronger, please”. She didn’t get me. “Stronger” I repeated and pressed my hand down hard against the bed to show indentation. “Oh” she nodded. And she began to press harder. Still, only for a minute or so. She was much too petite and inexperienced to do a real massage. I gave up. I let her gentle massage me from shoulder to back to feet to legs to gluts. Nothing sexual. Yet.

She tapped me on my shoulder. I looked up and she had both of her hands on her head and mimicking a scratching movement. A monkey??... Oh, a head message. Got it. So I sat up with my legs crossed, waiting for her to go behind me and start massaging my head. It took about half a minute of nothing and then I felt a light tap on my shoulder again. I looked back. She was sitting against the bed wall with her legs spread wide open and signaling me to lay my head on her opened lap. Oh boy, I thought. Ok, calm down. Just go with it. And so I laid my head down and let her do her thing. Again, she was all gentle. Felt like someone was washing my hair for me. She’s clearly no masseur.

After a while she tapped me again and signaling that she’ll move on to the rest of my body. So I laid there stomach up, eyes closed, while she moved to my side, kneeling and began massaging my arm. As she was working her way to my upper arm, my hand automatically fell downward toward the bed. It fell on her thigh. In a reflex, I lifted off my hand. I didn’t want her to think I was a pervert. To my surprise, she gently placed my hand back on her thigh. Twice too. When she moved to the opposite side and worked on my other arm, she did the same. I couldn’t help but to notice how soft and smooth her skin was against the back of my hand. Softer than cotton candy. Smoother than a baby’s bottom. Never in my life had I touched a skin so silky smooth. Certainly not with anyone I’ve been with before.

She moved on to work on my legs. She started down from my feet and worked her way up to my thighs. I was too lazy to tell her to apply more pressure, knowing it would be a waste of my breath. Then it got kind of weird. As she was massaging my thighs, he hands somehow managed to brush against my crotch. Numerous times. Then “brush” turned into err… “slight fondle”. My heart skipped a beat. Not knowing what I should do, I got tense.

She was pretty. China-doll look-a-like pretty. She walked in with a full make up on. Her long hair was done with a light orange-blond highlight and a twirl at the end that fell softy just below her clavicles on her petite shoulder. She had on a tight Turkish-blue uniform, similar in comparison to what an airline attendant would wear. She was very slim. Her short skirt that was well above her knees boldly accentuated her figure. She stood right about my height, with her high heels on. Why would she even be wearing make-up and high heels at a place like this? I thought to myself. The massage parlor is located in a three-star hotel, after all. Maybe it’s a standard here in Guangzhou?

Earlier…..
I should have guessed it the moment I walked into the hotel. With the exception to a spa, no “true” massage parlor will run a business in a hotel. But what would I, a tourist, know? They do things differently in every country, don’t they? It could be my oblivion. It could also be my ignorance. No matter what it was, I made the decision to walk in and requested a foot massage service. I needed it. My legs were killing me. To my surprise, they had a 60-minute full body massage available 24 seven BUT a foot massage won’t be available until after lunchtime. Odd, I thought. It was only around 10AM. I needed the massage done before my lunch appointment. So I shrugged and said to myself “Oh well, why not”.

Entrance located right next to the reception at the lobby level. Men’s locker and relaxation room are located on the second floor. So I went up and got my locker opened by an male attendant. I was provided with a towel and told it’s mandatory to take a shower. Odd, I thought again. And so I did have my second shower that morning, being an obedient tourist that I was. After I got out, he gave me a pajama-like kimono to wear. All these instructions were given in a special sign language for tourists, since I don’t speak Chinese. We understood each other well enough to exchange a smile once or twice.

He then led me to a dimmed-light air-conditioned room at the end of the floor, filled with older gentlemen relaxing in leather recliners. Many were dozing off, while some were watching something on the mini television attached to their recliners. All were wearing the same kimono I was wearing. A female attendant in black was waiting. At spotting my presence, she welcomed me. The male attendant left. The female attendant asked what kind of a massage I would like to have. “A Chinese massage or a Thai massage?” she asked softy. I chose a Chinese massage. It’s no brainer. When one in China, one chooses a Chinese massage, no? But there were no questions asked on what type of massage oil I’d like to use (green tea or jasmine or whatever), or if I prefer a male or a female masseur for strength preference. The kind of typical questions one would get if one were to visit a “true” massage parlor. The language barrier prevented me to ask. She just gave me a room key with a number, attached to a rubber bracelet so I could wear it on my wrist. She told me to go upstairs (3rd floor) to find my room. Odd, I thought once again.

Upstairs, I passed many rooms. Very quiet. Very cold. Very surreal. The lighting made the surrounding and everything looked sepia. The whole thing seemed getting weirder by the minute. It gave me goose bumps. Once I found the room number that matched to the number on my key tag, I unlocked the door and found inside a dark tiny room with a massage table on the left and a used bed on the right. A BED! Why would a bed be doing here? Then it struck me. OH NO, I thought to myself. WHAT HAVE I GOT MYSELF INTO??...

my heart goes out to those of you who reside in japan or have family and/or friends there. hope the disaster that has taken so many lives there will soon be a distant past and be a spice that boils the people's courage and determination in rebuilding the country's spirit. may japan stays beautiful as it has always been.

it continues. there is something seriously wrong with my brain. last week, a friend brought home a Phoenix bird. not golden or fiery, but yellow just the same. and last night, i chased after a truckload of female convicts, all dressed in bright orange overalls, just so i could get a ride home. i can't phantom the fact that i start having dreams again when i barely had any last year, let alone weird ones like these.

seriously, i think my mum dropped me on my head when i was little. sigh... i think i may need a CAT scan

ok, i know i may be too old to like this kinda stuff BUT i can't seem to get enough of this video by a korean girl band no matter how many times i've seen it. why? i just do.

and for a little laugh, here's a parody on the video above by 2 korean boy bands.

hope you'll get a few laughs out of this, which is always a good way to start 2011

i have just finished watching a little segment on the history of P-town. who knew that the city of Provincetown, in the state of Massachusetts, USA, is actually the first landing spot by the American forefather. the Portuguese took over the role from the Native Americans as the settlers and made the once bare empty land into a real civilization. the place then turned into the true origin of American drama and inspired many artists and writers, such as Michael Cunningham, Jack Kerouac, Gore Vidal, and Tennessee Williams, to mention a few. P-town also played a key role in starting the AIDS campaign during the turbulent year of presidency of Ronald Reagan in the 80s, due to the increasing death from the AIDS virus. tragic years.

i have been to P-town and stayed there only once, and at the time with little... errr.. actually, NO knowledge of what so ever on the history and meaning of the town, found nothing special about the place. knowing what i know now, looking back i can only say, with embarrassment, that i had wished i took the time to get to know the place and why it meant so much to friends of mine who live in the States. it makes me rather regretted the fact i had not made an effort to visit the place before i returned to Asia, along with places like Washington DC, New Orleans, and Alaska. all i can say now is that if the town is good enough for those artists and writers, then it's good enough for me.

and yeah, as few of you probably can tell, i MISS New England, despite the snow storms and all

i dreamt of rabbits last night. don't know why. in my dream i had them put to sleep by keeping them in the refrigerator. i intended to cook them. they woke up when i took them out of the refrigerator. couldn't resist their cuddly cuteness. i ended up taking them to the living room to play. don't remember how many. so freakin' weird...