In which I try to cultivate creativity and self-discipline and practice honest self-representation by blogging every day for 30 days. for twenty stupid minutes a day.
. . . and then one of you suggests you meet up. For a date. In person in real life face to face and well. This was the whole point in the first place, right? RIGHT?!!@
Hi, my name is Rachel, and I have seen the end of Tinder. Gather round, young ones, and I shall tell you my tale of woe. sorry, but who wouldn't want to date a landshark?! I’ve often used this blog... Continue Reading →
we love a fancy dress! It’s a crisp 65 F in Hong Kong. Locals are in puffy jackets, boots, scarves. The sidewalk carts roasting chestnuts over an open fire (a phenomenon which, before I moved here and witnessed in the... Continue Reading →
I give you: The Case of the Shattered Glass Ceiling.
*cue MUSIC! Intense MUSIC!*
literally crying of happiness to leave the hotel at midnight, come what may. You know how when little kids lose it, they go limp noodle, swing their arms around like they're boneless, and look up at the sky and just... Continue Reading →
Having one Qtip jammed up into my brain and then another one scraped against my esophagus by a stranger dressed in a hazmat suit while I am locked inside a hotel room was decidedly not how I expected to celebrate my four year anniversary of moving to Hong Kong, but here we are. Thanks, Covid.
Last summer, the two weeks quarantine upon arrival were in my apartment, which was hard for a laundry list of reasons, but I gotta hand it to the HK gov’t - they know how to make things much, MUCH harder! Luckily (I guess), after a year of going nowhere, even with the mandated hotel quarantine, I was desperate to get home so I took the plunge. In a way, I was almost looking forward to the adventure of returning to Hong Kong and trying out the new system. If nothing else, some character building and a good story, right?
I took myself out on a date.* “We” (me and my many opinions, appetites, fictional lives, etc.) went down to the promenade where I normally go at night to run and make weird faces while my lungs try to draw... Continue Reading →
100 percent you don't have to count the last year of your life if you don't feel like getting older. The pandemic has stolen a lot from us: I'm inclined to agree that it was a wash of a year,... Continue Reading →
We saw dolphins in the surf on the second night, and I sprinted into the ocean to try and make friends (if I recall correctly, I did an Ace Ventura impression. It did not work but by golly, I felt alive). I shivered on the walk back to the dining commons, made two trips to the pasta bar, and then by silent, mutual consent, the group decided running was hard and pasta was good, and sporadic dolphin chasing missions were more fun and probably counted as cardio.
Sunglasses Always Fit 