Sunday, September 23, 2012


I was meeting an old friend for lunch. I was a bit early, so I quickly dropped by Hollister. I didn't have much time, but I managed to buy a pair of electric blue (think Stabilo) shorts and ogle at the handsome staff cum models.

Once we met up, I asked my friend what she thought of my purchase. She flatly said the color was not age-appropriate. Her usual candidness adds to why I love her to pieces. And she merely confirmed what I already knew.

That I look my age.

After she left, I went back to return the item. I stood in the middle of the store, surrounded by young and gorgeous Hollister men that I would never measure up to, and held up the bright-colored garment one last time.

As I was lost in thought, a Chinese hunk showed me a shirt and asked where he could find his size. I absent-mindedly pointed to the other end of the hall where I saw a stack of the same items earlier.

A few minutes later, a beefy guy asked me where he could pay for his stash. I looked around me, but none of the Hollister staff were in sight. I gave him directions to the counter where I paid for mine that morning.

I was still beaming when I got home that afternoon and told hubby about my day. And in case you were wondering, I ended up keeping the electric blue shorts.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012


I quickly locked up and rushed to the waiting elevator before it closed. The doors slid shut behind me, and everything went silent. Save for my audible panting, which turned into a drawn out coughing fit once I noticed my gorgeous neighbor in the cabin.

Particles of dust danced under the glare of halogen lights, as Pachelbel's Canon in D played in the background. I stared at our reflection on the polished metal. Both in suits, we looked perfect on top of layers of fondant. I smiled, and he started to blush.

I let out a few more stray coughs before we reached the ground floor. The doors opened, and I braced myself for the loud applause, rain of soft petals, and gentle pelting of grain. He lunged ahead with quick, long strides. I reached for his hand. 

And grasped at nothing. Outside the lobby's glass doors, I saw Romeo gasping for fresh air.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Summer's End

The temperature here in China suddenly dropped, as summer finally gave way to hubby's and my favorite season. The days are more pleasant for long walks, and the nights are perfect for snuggling.

But being my usual restless self, I started complaining to hubby that summer has passed and we look as pasty as ever. At the same time, I also worried about the coming winter, wondering if there would be heavy snow.

Hubby had to stop me, as I rummaged through our stuff in panic, searching for our swim wear to catch the summer's tail-end and heaters in preparation for the chilly months ahead.

He patiently explained that what is perfect now would just pass me by, if I dwell on both things past or have yet to come. He helped me with my singlet and shorts and led me out for that pleasant autumn walk.

Thursday, September 13, 2012


I stood inside the train, responding intently to work-related e-mails with my Blackberry, when a pair of sweatpants came into view. I put the phone down and slowly looked up.

A plain white t-shirt that struggled to contain his massive pecs and biceps. A beautiful face, with tailored stubble that framed his luscious lips. That peaked side crop that everyone seems to be sporting these days.

He was such a vision that my eyes had to retrace their steps, before settling on those sweatpants that left little to the imagination. I had to remind myself that it was rush hour and my officemates could be in the same car.

I buttoned my coat, which was a size too small but framed my torso nicely, and pretended to use my BB to be able to continue staring. It took every ounce of restraint to keep myself from snapping away with the phone's cam.

I'd like to think that it was the handsome suit, rather than the heavy drooling, which got him to take notice. He would steal glances, but I continued to ignore him, which further stoked his interest.

The doors slid open to the sound of loud beeping. The guy looked up at the blinking light on the train network map and realized it was his stop. He quickly rushed outside before the doors shut tightly behind him.

I edged closer to the doors, as he turned around to face me. I placed my hand on the panel that separated us. The train started to move, but I still held his gaze, until all I could see on the glass was my own reflection.


Wednesday, September 12, 2012


The company paid for me to attend a three-day seminar. The major industry players were present, and quite a number of the delegates were Chinese guys who were either born or bred overseas.

Bananas, as American or British-born Chinese are called here in China - yellow on the outside, yet white inside. I can single them out by how they look, even before they speak, and I personally find them attractive.

I focused on the topics presented, injected humor in the discussions, and pretended not to notice the cute guys and their accents. And by the time they served lunch, I knew who among them was checking me out.

We broke up early for the day, but I lingered in the function room. The guy I was eyeing across the room (and vice versa) also stayed behind. He approached me after a few minutes and introduced himself.

We exchanged business cards and were surprised with the identical logos. I quickly came up with a lame excuse for leaving, and reminded myself of a painful yet valuable lesson I once learned.

Don't ever shit in your own backyard.

Friday, September 7, 2012


I used to dream of a number of things. Thousand dollar shoes. An 84-inch LED TV. A year in Eastern Europe. A villa by the beach. Things I thought I could have one day, if I worked hard enough.

It's been years, but my oxfords are still nowhere near a four figure price tag. Our TV more closely resembles an iPad. I've given up fantasies of doing porn in Prague. And a villa when I can barely afford my mortgage?

I'm still working (too) hard. But the only things I dream of these days are the weekends.
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