Thanks Hong Kong :D ! Part 5

And so we come to the last section of our five-part Hong Kong miniseries. It's been great having you along for the ride but please put your seats in the upright position and restore your tray tables. And since planes seem to keep on flying another half an hour after these useless announcements, I'm just going to keep on writing.

On our second to last day Elliot went to to explore one of the islands near Hong Kong. He'd wanted to rent a bike and ride around and had planned on it since way before the trip so I said he should just go for it. Since I felt like hell, and not on high heels like the subject of the eponymous Motley Crue song, I decided it was time for more relaxation. I went off to find out exactly what foot reflexology entailed. According to Wikipedia, reflexology is an alternative medicine, complementary, or integrated method of treatment involving the physical act of applying pressure to the feet and hand with specific thumb, finger and hand techniques without the use of oil or lotion. It is based on what reflexologists claim to be a system of zones and reflex areas that they say reflect an image of the body on the feet and hands, with the premise that such work effects a physical change to the body. There were signs ALL OVER the city for it. Complete with neon-lit images of blinking feet. Now, I hate feet. I think they're gross and yucky and just bleh. But, I was willing to push aside my feet prejudices in the name research. Maybe by rubbing a certain area of my foot they could make me not quite so congested. And I really wanted a massage. Maybe one that didn't leave marks.

Our hotel was connected to a bigger one, it was like the satellite branch except they were right next to each other. Good job Hong Kong. So I went to their spa. It was on the bottom floor and made up of a series of rooms connected by short passageways. It was like a very dimly lit labyrinth where people went to get pampered and didn't come back alive. I said I wanted foot reflexology, a massage, and a manicure. I'm a girl, deal with it. They led me to a one person couch that was so comfy. Beaded curtains separated the hallway into partitions that each had a couch. They made makeshift rooms and each "room," had a couch, a table and small TV mounted on the wall. They gave me some tea and then I soaked my feet in warm water. The lady in charge of my treatments asked if I wanted the TV on and I said sure. They gave me little earphones, set the channel to National Geographic where a show about India was starting, then had me lean back and prop my feet up on a footstool.

And then I saw the DO NOT SCREAM sign. I'm not kidding. There was a sign fixed right across from me that read exactly that. Good grief, what did I get myself into?

Bliss. I got myself into bliss. Oh good God, it felt good. I mean, I don't know how "healed" I was, but it definitely felt nice. She rubbed my ankles and massaged my calves (who has knots in their calves? Me, apparently) and just applied the best amount of pressure to ease up my poor little feets. Plus, the show about India was really good. I learned all about cow wranglers. And then came a show about the tallest building in the world, Taipei 101, and I learned all about it. It has a special window-washing system made personally for it.

The reflexology took about an hour after which they graciously asked me if I need to use the bathroom (I did. I drank a lot of green tea) and then led me to the massage chamber where I changed into the same kimono top and shirts the other place had. And then I had the most miserable massage experience of my life. I'm not a hypochondriac or a fussy person. When I'm sick, and I say I'm sick, I am honestly sick. So when I had to lie on my stomach with my head propped on the padded toilet seat thing they have on massage tables for your face, all my mucus drained to the front of my head. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't sniffle without making a lot of noise and I could feel everything dripping. I couldn't even enjoy the massage because I was too busy silently willing my sinuses to cooperate. They didn't. At one point, I had a droplet splash down through the face hole of the massage table onto the ground. I felt so sorry for the poor Chinese lady having to touch the diseased white girl. But bless her she finally gave me tissues and had me rest my head on the side. That didn't work. I got a coughing attack and kept jerking around as she was trying to rub. Finally, she had me on my back and even tried to rub my sinuses but nope, I just felt too gross and too miserable. Thankfully it was over soon but I couldn't even hang my head and make my escape. I had my damn manicure. I was led back to my armchair (DO NOT SCREAM) and it was a different girl and I had the stupid glitter OPI nail polish that took about half an hour for her to remove. Then she basically scythed my cuticles with one blade of the nail scissors as I watched horrified. She left me there, after she was done applying whatever weird chemical-y nail polish she put on me, so my nails could dry but I just paid up and made my escape. It smudged. Thanks Hong Kong :D !

Elliot got back a little after I did and he was sun-burnt and a little let-down, as per Hong Kong usual. There were no bikes but he did get a lot of pictures. We hung out for a little while, got free coffee at the hotel's terrace cafe and then decided to give Indian food anther try. We found a place on the 6th floor of a building in Wan Chai and had a pretty decent meal. Much better than the Indian bazaar where I'm pretty sure I watched a woman agree to certain "services," for a creepy Indian man. I'm not just making this up either. Elliot missed the whole thing but I watched the man come in, talk to the woman (who I think was Malaysian. Definitely not Indian or Chinese), smile as she nodded, leave as she told him to go wait outside because she had food coming, and then come back in and inquire several times as to what was keeping her food to the girl working. When the woman got her food, he escorted her out. Something fishy definitely went on. After dinner we finally made it up to the Peak. It was so dark and the city was so beautifully lit, it was truly a spectacular view. Everyone should see it at some point in their lives. Of course, there was a lame couple making out like they'd never seen tongues before. We yelled, "EWWWW," at them. We are very mature.

It was with a hacking cough and more rib pain that I woke up on our last day. Elliot kept trying to convince me that we needed a doctor but I waved him off. We had presents to buy and bird markets to see. Though, I did get a little apprehensive about going to a Chinese bird market while sick. I mean, I joked about SARS and the bird flu but... we were in China and I had been growing steadily worse for the last ten days. I drank my weight in liquids though and off we went.

Hong Kong has a lot of markets. They have the fruit and vegetable markets set up on the streets during the day on Queen's Road where Elliot and I bought delicious crisp apples and sweet bananas. They have the night markets in Mong kok, the most crowded place on Earth, where they sell everything from vibrators to paintbrush sets to Super Mario figurines (we got them for our friends). They also have the two animal markets where, for once, you don't actually eat the animals. These are the bird market (or gardens as they were called) and the goldfish market. We went to the bird market first. It was this little area that had all sorts of birds in pretty wooden cages. There were African grey parrots I made Elliot take pictures of for my cousin who has one so she can see Gypsy's (that's his name. He's 19) Chinese cousins, and so many little budgies and parakeets. I think I saw some myna birds as well as blue and yellow Macaus, my favorite kind of parrots. It was a little uncomfortable seeing so many birds crammed into the cages though. Elliot is kind of a bleeding heart when it comes to animals, more so than I am, so we didn't really linger.

The goldfish market was amazing. I admit, I was kind of ambivalent about it because let's face it, goldfish are kind of boring. My family has had one goldfish or another in the house since I was a child and they just don't really excite me. Not like turtles, haha. But the market was not so much as a market as one street with all the shops next to each other and they all had rows and rows of plastic bags filled with water and fish on display right outside. Beyond just goldfish there were several other kinds of fish for sale too, including some really weird spotted ones. Of course, there were turtles too. I could've stayed and stared at everything for hours. We saw a little case of bright yellow frogs just swimming about like froggies do. This street also had pet shops and of course, I had to look at them. Elliot's stomach turned at all the kittens and dogs and bunnies on display, and I tried to make him feel better in between squealing. They wouldn't stock so many (and put them all together, like 7 kittens in one small enclosure) if there wasn't such a high demand, right? They probably sell them fast. But then I got distracted by a window filled with bunnies and stood there cooing. As we walked by apparently there was a giant bucket of guts right next door. I'm glad I didn't see it. Though it was odd that there were so many seafood restaurants next to the pet stores. I assured Elliot that the giant store with the big pawprint on the sign was probably just another pet store not a restaurant... thanks Hong Kong :D !

We'd finally managed to get in contact with Nikki and she asked if we were free that night. We were going to go to Jumbo, the famous restaurant that had a version in Boston, because it was our last chance to that night. But, we decided we could fit her in too so we used the free Internet at a Pacific Coffee Company (sort of like a Starbucks) to send her a message asking her to meet us at 8 p.m. by the clock tower in the Kowloon harbor. We went to lunch back on the Hong Kong side at this small, Chinese (doi big surprise) restaurant. A guy sitting next to us told us to get the set menus because they were cheaper and really good and told the waiter to give us the menus. The waiter got all fussy but did it and we ended up eating some of the best food on the whole trip. Noodles in clear, spicy broth and crispy pork in a honey glaze with fresh, crunchy cucumbers in garlic. Yeah, it was delicious. We spent the rest of the afternoon getting gifts including personalized stamps for each of our dads. We had to give the man an hour to make them so we made a plan. We'd go over to the Kowloon side for Elliot's final fitting and to give them the hotel address to deliver the suits (and free beer!), then come back and get the stamps, then make our way to the bus station to go and finally see Jumbo, then either take a cab or the bus back to Kowloon to meet Nikki, even though she hadn't responded back to us yet.

Elliot's suits were great and the tiny store was filled with energetic Indian men, all friendly and personable and measuring various customers. The stamps were made; my dad's with a carved horse on top (he loves horsies) and Elliot's dad's with a pig as he was born in the year of, and so we trudged back to the bus station. We'd had trouble finding the right bus earlier in the week but luckily, it was right there so we hopped on for a merciful half hour of sitting down. I was next to this kid playing, according to Elliot, God of War and he was not doing so well, also according to Elliot who was watching from behind us.

When we got to our stop it was right by the water. A few steps and we could see out towards some lights just floating in the middle. Jumbo. So we walked. We walked for half an hour and ended up at some car service district with no sign of water anywhere. Where the hell was it?! How do you get to the damn restaurant!? Finally, we gave up and went to pee at some food court we found. Needless to say, we were danm exhausted and we were pretty far from where we had to be so we found a bus stop rather than a cab and decided to just take it to the pretty much the end of the line. The bus rolled down the street in the opposite direction of where we'd been walking and it drove right past a giant sign, JUMBO. It had steps and a pier right to it. We'd gone the wrong way. At least we got a glimpse of it on the way back? We just didn't have time to get back out and go see it, we were already a little late.

We were at the clock tower a little past 8:30 but there was no sign of Nikki. You can kind of imagine how tired we were at that point (the market trips had been the same day) and we waited for almost and two hours but no sign of Nikki. We took turns getting hot coffee at the 711 or checking the internet and the heavy wind did not help my developing headache. We'd had a long day and at that point I hadn't eaten since lunch, nine hours earlier. After giving up on Nikki we got back on the ferry and crossed over to Hong Kong. I had a raging headache by this time and I just thought food was what I needed. We walked around trying in vain to find a roast pork place (or suckling pig. Elliot found out the name of what he wanted so we ended up walking into places, asking if they had it, and then turning around and walking swifly back out when they said no. We asked maybe 7 places. Note: this is a food Hong Kong is famous for) and after while, fed up, we ended up at the same building the Indian restaurant had been in. We picked a random floor and walked in to a restaurant. I think it was Taiwanese food. It was odd and I felt like throwing up because my headache was so bad. Elliot was getting increasingly worried, especially when I went to retch in the bathroom. No vomit though. Finally, I said I was just going to leave and grab a cab back but my darling boyfriend abandoned his meal, paid up, and led me out.

Back in the noise and mess and chaos of people we were. I had enough. I was just done with Hong Kong. A passing double-decker bus had an ad all over it for Turkish Airlines and Istanbul. Thanks universe. Your timing, as always, is super. I almost started crying, I wanted to go home so badly. This was of course, before my exchange with Cengiz Bey so Turkish Airlines was a sign of comfort not extreme hatred (haha their catchphrase is, "Globally yours." My dad cracked that it was, "Globally up yours." Amen sir!). We walked out on the street, stopping only so Elliot could get pork jerky from a corner store, and went to track down a cab. Our hotel wasn't too far away, but far enough distance walking so we had some trouble finding a cab but thank God one stopped. He dropped us off, Elliot begged me to eat something, I told him to get out as I did not want him to deal with me vomiting, he did, at which point I went to the bathroom and actually did start crying. This did not help my pounding head. And still no throwing up. That usually makes me feel better but I wasn't about to force myself. I'm pretty sure I burst some blood vessels from heaving anyway.

Elliot came back after a while with some yogurt but I had taken some Tylenol PM at that point (it knocks me out so I didn't want to take any earlier and I didn't have regular Tylenol with me) and was curled up in the bed. I've had migraines before but usually they're like once every six months or so. In Hong Kong I got two within three days of each oher. The Tylenol helped a little and I finally drifted off to sleep to the dulcet tones of CSI, my new friend.

The next morning I felt fine (well, still mucus-y and cough-y and gross but at least my brain didn't feel like it was about to come out of my skull) and it was kind of sad how happy Elliot and I were to be going home. We were almost giddy. We took a cab to the airport express terminal, got to check in our bags there (it's a subway station for just the airport in the city. You can check in and leave your luggage and it'll get to where it's going, no problem. Jesus, Hong Kong. You are so amazing at some stuff and so ass-backwards about others. It blows my mind), and then peacefully rode the subway to the airport. We got our last buns (pork for Elliot, cheese and mushroom and I think some pork too as I doubt they have anything without pork there. Yep, I was a bad Muslim this vacation) and I bought the sequel to the, "Girl with the Dragon Tattoo," as I'd finished the first one and we boarded Continental bound for that magical, glorious land; NEWARK.

Now, we were spoiled by Cathay Pacific so we didn't have high hopes for our Continental plane. Boy, were we wrong. Every seat had a TV with probably hundreds of movies and a fair amount of TV shows. They had Dexter! They gave us food and snacks and even though I was in the middle seat, I was quite comfortable the fifteen hours back. I watched Desperately Seeking Susan because it was a comfort movie with my Madonna in it and I realized I'd never seen it all the way. It's not very good. The problem is, it has a decent plot and the writer(s) gave reasons and alibis and explanations for everything so that it would be plausible. But, they got so caught up with making sure everything made sense that the actual story and movie fell by the wayside. It was kind of boring but fun. Madonna was amazing though, just because she's so cool. I mean, acting is so so but she's just so cool! My darling muse was there right when I needed her. Oh, and her outfits? MAN. She had a pair of sequinned boots I would very happily sell my cat for. No, I LIED. NEVER. Not my Egglet. Oh I just got a heartache-y pang. I have to go hug her right now. No, not my cat. My sister maybe. I love you Mina. Rosanna Arquette talks and looks like Sarah Michelle Gellar, by the way. It was really odd. I think that might be way I like her. I always wondered why and assumed because she kept appearing in mvoies with my loves, Madonna and David Bowie (The Linguini Incident, one of my favorites), but it might very well be because I love SMG and Rosanna and she do have a fair bit in common. She's in Desperately Seeking Susan too, I didn't just randomly start talking about the best Arquette.

It wasn't until we reached Newark that I saw I had a message from Nikki. She slept through everything. Oh Nikki. Good job :D

We got home and were immediately greeted by an ecstatic Egg. She spent the rest of the afternoon and night going from my arms to Elliot's and slept curled up close to us all night. It was good to be home.

I wouldn't say it was a bad vacation but I also wouldn't say it was the best. China is not for the weak. Especially those with a crappy immune system (my cough went away a day after I got back home but I remained congested for another week). But, I guess I'm still pretty happy I got to go and see it. It was an experience and well, maybe next time it'll be for 3 days rather than ten. THANKS HONG KONG :D !

Goldfish market



Bird gardens.




Hong Kong from the Peak at night.



Us. Where will we end up next? My vote is for Australia.

Thanks Hong Kong :D ! Part 4

All right, I got my German bowel-movement tea (don't ask) and my King Diamond DVD waiting for me so I'm ready to finish this sum bitch up. Bring it on Hong Kong.

:D

I have no idea where we left off so we're just going to start off with the nice Korean dinner we had one night. There was a huge sign outside the place that read, "WE SPEAK ENGLISH," which seemed kind of odd but we went in. Yes, they did speak English. Very well. It kind of weirded us out. I don't know why but hearing an older Chinese (Korean? Wait I don't remember if it was run by Chinese or Koreans) spit out rapid-fire, amazing, English and then throw in some slang was just odd. But the food was so delicious. We weren't hungry enough for Korean barbecue (except I kind of was but I didn't want to bully Elliot into eating sizzling meat, hur hur that's what she said) so I got my stand-by Jap Che noodles and Elliot got... something. They were like tubes of noodles with veggies. Both very good.

The next day, we decided to go see the big, giant Buddha. Now, I was kind of excited about seeing the big, giant Buddha. It's a big, giant Buddha for crying out loud! All peaceful and big and giant. Who doesn't want to see a big, giant Buddha? Pish tosh. Oh, and to get to big Buddha you have to ride up by cable car.

!!!

I love cable cars. They were my favorite part of the skiing vacations my family used to go on. Besides the tost (grilled cheese) and tea/hot chocolate we'd have in the little restaurant at the bottom of one the slopes. And the game room with the pinball machine. Not to mention the foosball machine. Back in the days when I used to be good at it. Grr. Okay, I liked all the supplementary stuff to skiing. Skiing itself is kind of a take or leave. Since we haven't been in years it's more of a leave. But anyway, cable cars = good, creaky fun high above land!

Yeah the cars went rather slowly and swayed quite a bit and they had gaps where freezing wind snaked in and made me feel like we were in a rusty deathtrap but we lived. We went up a pretty long way but it was so cool seeing the big, giant Buddha slowly come into view. It lay just beyond one of the highest hills and even though it was a hazy day, it looked so majestic. And that was about the only impressive thing about it. The place was like a bizarre theme park. China Presents : Buddhism! There was a Starbucks, a Subway and various other fast food places and fake snow and Christmas music piping out of everywhere (you could get your picture taken with Santa!) and cheap, touristy crap. They also had an animated feature starring monkeys named Doofus and Clever. It was the most underwhelmed I've ever felt at an international landmark. The Buddha itself was all right. I'm actually surprised it wasn't plastic seeing as how commercial the entire place was. But it was big and we could climb the 300-odd, yup OCD me counted, steps up to it's base. Of course, I was excited because I didn't do my research and thought it was a historic place. It's barely 15 years old. The spiritual, mystic monastery right next to it? Still under construction.

I had fun laughing about it with my equally disgusted boyfriend. It became a running joke, "So help me God, I'll take you back to Ngong Ping!" That was the name of the place. But the most magnificent thing happened on our way back. We passed this couple, we can only assume a husband and wife, and the man looked like he was ready to kill himself (or more likely, her), he just looked like the most brow-beaten man ever. His wife was this rather large lady and all we heard her say, for about a full minute was, "MungmungmungmungMUNGMUNGMUNGmungMUNGmung." She said it maybe 15 times and she had no teeth and I sincerely hope she wasn't having some sort of stroke because oh how we laughed. I mean, we walked away really fast before we cracked up, but still. Hilarious. I guess you had to be there.

Then we got stuck in the cable car, suspended above water, with a Korean family for about half an hour. We assume someone threw up even though the announcement said there was just, "routine maintenance." Suuuuure. We did get a nice view of the sewage treatment informational facilities though. And the airport. Yes, the view was a little lackluster.

My Elliot and I don't really fight that often, and we usually resolve it in minutes, but we did have kind of a tiff in Hong Kong. He kept saying I looked miserable and I kept trying to tell him I was fine. Dumbest argument ever. I mean yeah, I was sick the entire time so I probably did look terrible but I don't ever really exclaim like a crazed banshee when I'm having the time of my life either. I absolutely hate it when he thinks I'm having a bad time and feels guilty about it because come on, I'm not a child. If I'm not enjoying myself I'll excuse myself and go do something else. Hell, I've done it with my other friends. Some nights I just don't want to laugh at fat hipsters at our bar. I'll bid them all have fun and hang out by myself at home or whatever. I was getting mad at him for being overly concerned and he was getting mad at me for not making any plans to see places and I guess it was secretly that we were both kind of disappointed with Hong Kong and taking it out on each other. I guess we assumed it would be like Japan where we had a blast but eh. But we cleared that up pretty fast. And then spent the rest of the time taking Hong Kong with a grain of salt. Thanks Hong Kong :D

Hong Kong is known for it's tailors and Elliot wanted to get a suit made so he found one of the more famous places, Samm's, where his dad and grandfather had also gotten suits and went in for a fitting. They had a pretty great marketing scheme for customers; offer them beer. It's Hong Kong, nobody cares about anything! So after every fitting (there were 3) Elliot would just walk back out into the city, carrying his open, and free, beer. He got two suits made there and they're excellent. One is a deep charcoal color with bright orange lining and the other is dark, dark navy with subtle pinstripes and a royal blue paisley lining. Yeah, my boyfriend has Iranian taste in his clothes. Loud and paisley. Thanks Hong Kong :D !

On one of these days we also ventured back to the Walk of Fame and took pictures of all the stars' names we recognized, both for our friends and for ourselves. We found Jackie Chan and Michelle Yeoh and Chow Yun Fat among others. I also took a picture of Elliot with the Bruce Lee statue. There were a bunch of school kids prowling around the area too, and they were conducting surveys for class. We got stopped a couple times each and asked questions. One girl who interviewed me also took my picture. I assume it shall become a Chinese internet meme soon. The questions were mostly about Hong Kong and the food in Hong Kong. They were short and kind of fun, actually.

We still hadn't heard from our friend Nikki so we went on making plans by ourselves. The next morning, after getting a breakfast of French toast at this little place run by a sweet old Chinese man, we rode one of the subway lines all the way to the end, outside the city, to try and find a certain monastery. There were signs pointing uphill and I was still a cauldron of boiling mucus (yep delightful, I know. I woke up every morning hacking and coughing and spitting out chunks of green phlegm. I am the most attractive girl in the world) and walking was cause for a weird stabbing pain in my ribs (I seriously was falling apart for ten days. When did I become such a weakling? Need to start hitting the gym again, I guess) so I asked if we could take a cab up. The guidebooks even recommended we do that. But the one cab that stopped was kind of a jerk and it just turned Elliot off of the whole deal so we decided to go find something else. We got on another train and followed a path to a secluded little garden. Elliot had looked up locations from Bruce Lee movies he'd wanted to visit and this was one of them. It was so quiet and so pretty; lots of big trees and small pools filled with giant carp and turtles again. Yay, turtles. There were archways and a couple buildings that we weren't allowed in but we could see inside and they had just rows and rows of pictures of people and incense burned everywhere.

There were big cauldron-like things set up everywhere and what looked like incinerators. Oh. It took us a while before we realized it was a type of crematorium center and those little flakes floating everywhere weren't leaves or blossoms, they were ashes. Human ashes. Thanks Hong Kong :D !

It was still pretty cool though and we got back to the city in time for lunch. This is where we gambled with our lives and picked a random place off the street to eat. Elliot and I both ordered our food, and milk tea which everyone around us was drinking and it looked really good, and waited in trepidation. There was an Istanbul Kebap branch right across from us so that was our back-up plan in case we were served something particularly inedible. That day I learned that lo mein in China is THE SAME AS IN AMERICA. It kind of blew my mind because I thought that was an Americanized dish. But nope, totally had noodles with sprouts and meat served to me. But I don't know what kind of meat. I'd like to think pork. Let's say it was pork.

Oh who am I kidding, it was probably horse.

Elliot had a dish of beef and rice and we both ate quite well. Our tea was also delicious, and let's just try not to think about how the the glasses probably hadn't been washed since they were first delivered to the restaurant. Everyone on the street was watching us eat too. There was a group of Indian men just staring. When my food came, a man walking by looked down, looked back at me, gave me big smile of approval and walked on. I guess I passed some sort of test?

That night we went to our stand-by of Japanese. How sad is it that we had to have Japanese as our stand-by? Poor Elliot. All he wanted was roast pig and we couldn't find one place. Hong Kong really let us down in terms of food. We went to this Indian arcade type place that was all stuff from India and we had lunch there and although I enjoyed the music videos (all of whom I recognized and could name the stars in them and the movies they were from) the food was kind of bad. I guess I'm a meat snob because the cuts of chicken there were terrible and the rice was not at all good. I also really wanted to try the crab with chili, a Hong Kong trademark, but I knew it would just come served as is; this giant crab staring at me from the plate and I would stare at it and it would stare back and I'd have no idea how to eat it and it would just be an ordeal. Next time I guess. Or we'll go to San Francisco and try there. We did find a restaurant that Anthony Bourdain went to, though. His picture was splashed across the door. Anyway, Japanese was good and I decided it was finally time to have my Tsing Tao. Yes, I ordered Chinese beer at the Japanese restaurant. It came in a bottle the size of a large, wine bottle. Elliot didn't have more than a couple sips, his tailor had supplied him wit enough earlier, so I drank most of it. I was feeling no pain by the time I got up from that table.

Wan Chai is simply the best place to walk around when you're buzzed. I wasn't drunk or tipsy but I was at that nice point where you really can't work yourself up about anything but you've still got your wits about you. It was a nice state to be in as we walked around the hooker and "dance" club section of the city. And by dance I don't mean dance. It's unfortunate though, every time one of the "dance" ladies called out to us, it just broke any spell her looks may have sought to cast. Yeah, the language of love, nay seduction, it is not. Then we rode the double-decker tram back to the hotel. I got a nice hot Nescafe from the 711. I really enjoyed the trams and the cans of Nescafe drinks, hot or cold.

Thus ended another night in Hong Kong. We still hadn't trekked out to the metal bar a MetalSucks reader had sent me a message about, or to the "old" Jumbo, but hey, I had my beer. Still prefer Kirin. But thanks Hong Kong :D !

Up with the cable cars.


The big, giant Buddha


The animated monkeys. You may wonder why one's head is up the others' ass. I wonder too.


Jackie Chan!


Elliot and Bruce Lee.


Peaceful crematorium garden.


Where we assume they dump the bodies.


The tram during the day.


On the the tram, empty street at night.



Warnings on a bus. Hee, boobies.

Thanks Hong Kong :D ! Part 2

Okay, I have notes from our trip because I'm lame and always take notes wherever I am in case it can make good writing later (I told you I'm lame) but some of the days kind of blur into one another. I'm gonna do my best to remember each day as accurately as possible but I may mix up certain meals and events because we did a lot in ten days and well, I was out of my mind tired with jet-lag and diseased more than half the time.

Where did I leave off? Oh yes, breakfast. After breakfast I went to lay down a but because I was still kind of sickly and early enough in the day that I didn't feel the need to start conquering China like my Energizer bunny boyfriend. Apparently on his lone exploration he stumbled on a music video shoot for a pretty big star. The back-up dancers were wearing shiny big pants and there was a pink Chinese dragon.

We met up for lunch and ventured around the hotel. The Luxe Manor is right off of Nathan Road, a sort of Newbury St./Istiklal Caddesi for the Kowloon side, so right out the door we were smacked with food stalls, stores, massage places, and Indian men hell-bent on selling us, "Copy watches sir? Copy purses madam?" They didn't even bother pretending their articles were genuine! Throughout the next ten days, Elliot would get approached more often than I did, weirdly enough, because along with fake watches and bags, they were hawking tailor services. "Tailor suit sir?" This question was often delivered in a low, machine-gun fire rhythm that had us staring uncomprehendingly at them for a second before realizing that no, we did not want a suit. After a while we started snickering to ourselves because the thought of toying with them was kind of irresistible. Like, seriously what would they have done had we stopped dead in our tracks, opened our mouths wide and just went, "REALLY?! YOU HAVE COPY WATCHES?! WHY, SHOW ME, MY GOOD MAN, SHOW ME!," What would they do? And on a related note, have they really attracted anyone with that sales pitch? Hong Kong is so cheap, you can get the original at probably a very reasonable price. And people do judging by the mansion-like Louis Vuitton, Prada, Coach, and various other stores on every block. I'm not exaggerating. Hong Kong is the city of labels. Every woman, and I mean every, single woman and most men had the LV monogrammed bag and each store was at least two stories tall or more. Not to mention, the giant malls everywhere. I kind of regret not going into to one to compare prices actually because again, Hong Kong is cheap. I will refer back to this several times.

Anyway, we found a nice little restaurant not far from our hotel, though not on our street. I don't know why but I guess the street we stayed on was wedding dress central. Every other store was a bridal shop. And some of the dresses, whoooo-eeeee. I wouldn't be caught dead in them as a joke on Halloween. The first place we chose to eat at in Hong Kong, the center of quality Asian cuisine, was a Japanese place. Another thing that will get reiterated a lot; the comparison between China/Hong Kong and Japan and the fact that we ended up at Japanese places more often than you'd think in a world food capital. I guess we couldn't quite shake off our first big vacation together. Elliot had some udon in black sesame broth and I had my trusty katsu with curry and rice. We decided to head back to the hotel for a quick nap (Elliot still hadn't slept unless you count the couple hours on the plane and I was still sickly feeling and hadn't gotten any more rest that morning. I accidentally spent it watching The Powerpuff Girls on Cartoon Network Asia. I don't know what it is about travel but it always makes me watch cartoons. My sister too, every time we've been in India we've ended up falling asleep to Dexter's Laboratory and various other kids shows). It was around 2 pm by this time so we set the alarm for 5 and curled up like cats.

We didn't wake up until 4 am the next morning.

Sure, we set an alarm but after hitting snooze several times, and after convincing a zombie Elliot that no, we would not be missing out on anything by sleeping because if we wandered around like sleepwalkers that'd hardly be "experiencing" Hong Kong either. So we turned off the alarm and slept for 14 hours. I woke up a few times drenched in sweat which I took to be a good sign that my fever had broken (yep, had been chilled/hot this entire time) so by the time we were up, I felt much better. Elliot decided to go take pictures of the city waking up and I stayed in the room and finished The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. It was a bit long-winded and I didn't get completely sucked in until well over 200 pages but the ending was infuriating which is why I am now reading the second book, The Girl Who Played With Fire. I like the main character and she reminds me of me sometimes. You know, besides the psychotic passive-aggressive sociopathic tendencies.

It's was a short walk from the hotel to the bay and ferries that cross back and forth between Hong Kong and Kowloon. Though we were in Hong Kong technically, we were staying on the Kowloon side, just to clarify to avoid confusion. It's like Boston and Cambridge or Istanbul with it's Asian and European sides. Along the way was the Walk of Fame with various Hong Kong stars' names and handprints on the ground as well as a huge statue of Bruce Lee. Elliot had explored there in the morning but I didn't go until later on in the trip, just caught glances as we walked by it. The ferry across to Hong Kong from Kowloon was about 30 cents and we used it often. My first time we did it early in the morning and the view was kind of awe-inspiring. Hong Kong looks like a very modern, very alien settlement with a very geometric and tall skyline. It towered over us in the daylight but it was beautiful at night when we were crossing back and all the lights were on. Except for the tacky season's greetings signs plastered and lit up all over the buildings. Seriously, I don't think I've heard, "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," as often as I did it there. Christmas music was blaring everywhere. From the underground subway stations to the malls to the random crappy little restaurants on the streets. You have not lived until you've listened to, "Feliz Navidad," surrounded by screaming Chinese women. That's another thing. People never had normal conversations there. Because of the language, everyone just sounded like they were yelling at each other all the time. It was not a place for quiet reflection.

We made our way up to the Peak, one of the highest points in Hong Kong by way of a tram. We headed up the hill on the steepest incline. We were sitting down but it felt like we were about to flip over and go sliding back down to the bottom. There was also a Madame Tussaud's at the Peak and we took a couple pictures of the Bruce Lee figure for Elliot who is a huge a fan. At the top we had a beautiful view of the city and Kowloon too and we had delicious drinks of milk tea with coffee before heading back down where we wandered, quite by chance, into the Botanical Gardens and Zoo. There were all these gorgeous orchids and I saw a Venus Fly-Trap in real life! As well as a, um, raccoon. You see, I love raccoons (thank you childhood viewings of Pocahontas) and I've never seen them except in movies and they had one in a cage at the zoo. It was so fat it looked like it was wearing pants. I loved it. There were also several swinging monkeys, chimps, a bunch of turtles and giant tortoises, and many, many birds. I saw a crane for the first time too. I've never really cared for cranes and barely paid attention to them in artwork such as Japanese, but they were so big, and so elegant I couldn't take my eyes off them.

As we wandered back down the hill (the gardens and zoo were at the base of the Peak but still uphill) we followed our ears to some music. We came across a marching band celebrating... something. I'll have to ask Elliot what it was for but they were amazing. At one point we both realized we knew what they were playing. The band was dancing and waving their trumpets and trombones in unison while they played Lady Gaga. Yep, 'Bad Romance."

After that little show we headed to Queen's Road which is the Newbury St. counterpart in Hong Kong and wandered among the vendors. I got myself one of those bags used for carting rice with a picture of an elephant. I love these bags and have wanted one forever but they went for upwards of 100$ in the States. I got it for 100$ Hong Kong dollars. Which is about 14 dollars. Hong Kong is so cheap! We had lunch at a mall called The One right by our hotel. It's a place that's 10 stories high with various, hilarious, store names (such as Rapee Living) and we had the best pork buns I have ever tasted in my entire life. Oh dear Lord they were heavenly. Soft and juicy and flavoured with scallions. I almost wept. I also had noodles with chili and peanut sauce that burned my mouth to high heaven but were so worth it. Elliot had a few other steamed dumplings and a noodle dish and our meal, in a really nice place, came out to probably like 20$. Hong Kong is so cheap!

I bought a shirt with a bunny that says sex on it from there. The mall, not the pork bun place.

Hong Kong is 13 hours ahead of Boston and I got tired pretty fast in the day. I can walk a lot but am no match for Elliot (and my mother in some cases. Man, traveling with those to two together would really be a special kind of hell. I love you guys, just kidding. But while you two would hike up a mountain, the rest of us would probably die on the trail). There's a restaurant in Boston called the New Jumbo and it has a huge panoramic painting of Hong Kong so one of our goals was to go to the original and have a drink there. But seeing as how we were so tired, we kind of called it an early night again, though we did send an email off to our college friend and my first RA Nikki who lives in Hong Kong. We had many night activities planned, including a trip to the metal bar a reader at MetalSucks had told me about. Thanks Hong Kong :D !

I know Elliot wants to save and show off the pictures himself but here's a sneak. He took all the photos as he's our excellent photographer.

The dancers.


Sun coming up over Hong Kong and the bay we crossed with ferries everyday.



The street right outside our hotel.


At the top of the Peak.


Bruce Lee at Madame Tussaud.


Orchids at the Botanical Gardens.


Marching band.


Stores at The One.

Happy Hindi Day! Yesterday...

Yeah, so you people make fun of my country on Thanksgiving (huh huh, do you have a lot of turkeys in Turkey?) so I'll pass on the favor and make fun of India because in Turkish, Hindi means turkey. Oh how clever of me.

I joined my boyfriend and his family for Thanksgiving this year. The joy of having an American boyfriend and friends; their families are always so generous and absolutely insist on inviting me over too. In high school, my best friend Kit's mom would cook a whole Thanksgiving feast in her apartment in Istanbul and she always had the best food so I've been kind of spoiled for all others but yesterday was delicious. We went over to Elliot's aunt's house and I'd met them on several earlier occasions so his cousins and I were already pretty comfortable around each other. Kung Fu Panda was on TV and we managed to get some quality viewing time as we waited for food. I did get to meet his uncle and grandmother for the first time, though. They were equally pleasant and welcoming and when we picked up his grandma and she came to the car carrying a pecan pie, well then. I followed her around much like cats at the fish market in Istanbul. I love pecan pie. It's my favorite. I just love pie. And cheesecake. Those are my top desserts and they had both. Elliot's cousin had made this delicious pumpkin spiced cheesecake with caramel and walnuts and there were cocoa cookies with white chocolate chips. But that was dessert. For food we had turkey, of course and it was delicious and I had a little bit of the white meat too even though I'm a dark meat girl through and through. You have my permission to lewd that up in any way you like. We also had a rib roast and stuffing (my favorite) and sweet potato puree and asparagus wrapped in bacon.

Miraculously, I didn't quite eat myself stupid. I was okay by the end of the day because today Elliot is taking me to the Afghan restaurant we went to the first time I came to visit his family and it has the best saffron chicken I've ever had in my life. Shh, don't tell my dad or my fellow Iranians.

Tonight I think we're meeting up with his old high school buddy for food (again) and at some point today I think I might coax him to drive me to an H&M. As my fashion blogger friends know the Lanvin and H&M collection premieres today and I've been really looking forward to it because all the pieces look amazing. Especially the Chanel-esque furry coat.



If the crowd look too daunting, since it is Black Friday, we'll avoid it but I'm going to take a peek at some point. I know every girl worth her weight in couture and online fashion will have a piece from the collection but I never buy anything that's "in fashion," just because it is, anyway. If I like something, I'll get it. Not because everyone has it. Like those Jeffrey Campbell Lita boots. They're not at all my style but I know at least three people who have them. Good for them, I admire people who can clomp around in heels all day. I'm good with my Converse sneakers and Iron Maiden Vans. Though I did recently switch it up and get a purple pair since my Maidens are falling apart and I always get black or grey shoes.

Other than that, I was just in New York visiting with my mommy and sister. My cousin and her family were also there (as well as another cousin who also attends NYU with my sister. Yes, I have a large family and we're together constantly). Now I know I've always come back from NY spewing vengeance and hate and crying out for the blood of the city, especially cab drivers. But I am allowed to change my mind. It was the best trip. Not only did I get to see family and have a long, fun lunch with them at this little Mexican place (La Rosa Mexicana by Colombus Circle. They had really good guacamole and my cousin expressed her wishes to have one of their succulent avocados. So I sneakily hi-jacked one as we were leaving. No one saw. I am a master thief) where we talked and I showed off my most prized "possession," my kitty (in pictures. I didn't actually bring her though I know some wouldn't put it past me. I mean, she's here in Virginia right now... yeah we drove 9 hours from Boston with the cat), but my mom and I met up with Carlito Dalceggio who I've talked about here. He's become sort of like a foster son to my mom because she has this bright, wonderful energy that draws people to her. Plus, he was just in Istanbul with her and got sick and stayed at our house. He has converted to Zeynepism. We went with him to an art gallery where he kind of had an "audition," and the owner really loved his stuff so hopefully that wiill come to some sort of fruition.



We also met up with my dad's cousin (I told you, large family) who hadn't seen us in 15 years. She had an art show too, which I unfortunately couldn't attend, but she came to lunch with us and Carlito the day I left.

My mother and I had dinner with Carlito and his girlfriend at some point. I was there from Thursday to Monday but the days kind of blur into each other. She's the sweetest, kindest girl ever and we all had the most, well I don't want to say profound because that sounds dumb and pretentious, so pretend I didn't say it but an evening along those lines. We went for drinks in Brooklyn at this cute little bar and then to dinner at a Vietnamese place which of course I loved as it is my favorite. I had pho. Surpirse. We just talked about EVERYTHING. From travel to dreams to food ("Our food had no taste in Poland, it's all potatoes!"), to weird connections between people. I was wearing my peacock print coat and they brought me a single peacock feather that Carlito had decorated with his signature acrylic, bright red dot.


His girlfriend had written a poem in beautiful calligraphy in her native language, Polish, for my mom (my mom gave her an evil eye bracelet the day before and she'd loved it) and Carlito had presented her with a small picture with a key attached. My mom collects keys. He had no idea, he just said he felt like the portrait needed something extra and the key seemed right. It was such a lovely night and won't get into too much detail because I'm saving the conversations for my novel. Man, I'm just filled with pretention with this post. But I was at a block and our night will translate so well into it. It was kismet. Oh, you might have actually seen his girlfriend. Her name is Magdalena Frackowiak. She's a pretty amazing model. Her modeling ice queen shots are the polar opposite of her personality.





My mom is actually off to Montreal today to see Mercan who I've also talked about in the same post with Carlito and more so here. He and Carlito did the opening of the Music House and he's another "spiritual" friend of my mom's now. I swear, when she's 90 she'll have reached guru status.

I also met up with a few friends. People might raise their eyebrows at the concept of an, "Internet friend," but in this day and age, when so many of us have blogs and websites and rely on connections through them, why is it still weird? I mean sure, watch out for them pedophiles, but I think a few of my closest friends now are those I've met through reading about their lives and vice versa. Three of these ladies came to stay with me last year for a couple days and I hadn't seen them since. So, last Friday two, Beth and Chelsey, came by to my mom's hotel where we met up at the bar where we treated ourselves to Bellinis (Proseco and peach juice. Let's send this into pretension over-drive because though it was good, I prefer them in Venice. Hey, I can be picky, I'm not a sweet alcoholic drink person anyway) before heading out to an improv show and a few other places. I love how my friends identify me with liking metal. I do, it's true, but rather than laughing at me, most support me and want to show me a good time by taking it into consideration. Like my best friends treating me to Kuma's corner, the heavy metal buger place, in Chicago. I love this. Chelsey said there was a metal bar in Brooklyn so we ended up in Williamsburg at 12 at night in this most excellent little basement bar, Duff's. It was absolutely wall-papered in posters and fliers and had a nice little back room with booths. It was so empty. We definitely got stared at by the few patrons but the friendly bar lady offered us free shots on the house because, "we looked cold." The night may have been disappointing on some counts (for my friend) but for me it was so fun just getting to hang out with the girls and even getting to know them a bit better. No more awkwardness for us.


There was a third lady in the group that visited me last year and she and I met up for drinks on anther night. I think my family and the way we function amused Hilary to no end. We were in the hotel bar again because it's comfy and hey, charge it to the room! But my sister came by, my cousin came by, then she came by again with her boyfriend and another friend, then my sister came by once more and Hilary basically met half my immediate family and their acquaintances right there.

I did some shopping too because I'm a girl and we have to. But I mostly got books and make-up. So my intellectual side and my superficial side were pretty balanced I'd say. I got Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil because I always thought I'd read it but my friend actually had and told me about it and I'd seen the movie so I figured it was time to go through it myself. I also got Modoc, it's about this boy and an elephant and it's the true story of how they went from Germany to India to a circus in New York in the '40s and all about their adventures and friendship. I'm sure it'll make me cry but it was written by one of the first Hollywood trainers to use love and care when handling animals (so hopefully I won't get all upset by animal cruelty. Yes, I like fur and leather and I eat meat but you kick a dog and I will stomp on your testicles till kingdom come) it'll be something interesting to read on the 16 hour flight to Hong Kong.

Oh yeah, Elliot and I are off to Hong Kong this coming Wednesday. Wacky adventures to follow. But seriously, I'm looking forward to another weird trip with him (we went to Japan a couple years ago and we're still boring our friends to death with stories), pissing him off by quoting Cassandra from Wayne's World every time we catch sight of Kowloon Bay, ("Oh my GOD! I WAS BORN IN KOWLOON BAY,"), meeting up with my first RA Nikki (who I haven't seen since freshman year), and eating in one of the foremost food capitals of the world. Yeah, everything comes back to food doesn't it?

Because Unlike Some Other Robin Hoods, I Have a British Accent

I just sent my sister off back to New York after a weekend of shopping and fooding including a particular night where I put way too much chili oil in my pho and basically sweated out the soup as I was eating it. Mm, delicious I know. Pho is great. It's my favorite. Spicy noodle soup with scallions, onions, and beef. I mean, it's nothing earth-shattering but I could probably have it for a week straight and not be sick of it. To think I never used to have it because it had cilantro. Cilantro is godawful. Don't you argue with me, you know it's true. But pho! You can make it spicy, you can make it all hoisin plum-y, you can switch up the meats or the noodles. It's just goodness. My favorite is really spicy with good beef and lots of noodles, easy on the onions.

So I'm just sitting here eating my lunch and Robin Hood: Men In Tights is on and of course I have to watch it because like that's even a question. The first time I saw it, I was in 4th grade and it was the movie the class voted on to watch as part of the year-end , "Yaaaay we don't have to do work but still have to be in school," times. I loved it. And I loved Cary Elwes. I didn't grow up with Princess Bride which is when every other girl fell in love with him but funnily enough, I kind of get a loophole with that. You see, when I was in elementary school, we had a horrible snowstorm one winter. One other older girl and I were the only kids who actually made it there on time. I remember a particular teacher, one I never had but who had a reputation for being "cool," took us both to the main building (this was on my old campus where the school was spread out in a variety of former apartments and trailers. Yes trailers. Big, tin metal trailers. We froze in the winter and got heat-stroke in the summer but it was still infinitely better than the shit hole we moved to when I was in 9th grade. You could fucking see Bulgaria from where that campus was. We used to dream of making a break for it and escaping through the fields on cows and sheep.) and sat us down and put a movie on. All I remembered from that movie was that there was a girl and boy walking through some swampy land and her dress caught on fire. Years later, I realized it was Princess Bride so I kind of did have it in my childhood like everyone else.

But anyway, Cary. Oh Cary.


He's what older, classy women in Turkey (and probably France, as that's where we got the word) would describe as a jeune. He was just such a leading man. Charming, eloquent, and a star. In movies that were hilarious, wonderful classics no less. Then I saw him in Saw and in Liar Liar and he was chubby and angry and, well, there went that fantasy but for a while, Cary Elwes ruled the world of comedic period pieces.

Last night, a bunch of us watched Aladdin. There's no shame in that, quit judging me. All I know, I've gleaned through Disney movies. But thinking about the star of that film, Jafar (duh), made me realize my, "ideal," celluloid men might be a little different than other normal, little girls'.

My dad raised us on action movies. I remember clearly watching Die Hard with a Vengeance on a plane and shrieking in anger when they cut it off because the stupid plane had the audacity to prepare for landing. More than action movies though, we loved the world of "action" and the actors. My dad took me to the Naked Gun movies in theaters. When he found out Arnold Schwarzenegger was in a kiddie movie, Kindergarden Cop, he didn't even think twice about taking me and my cousin. My cousin got scared and wanted to leave. I shrugged and said no, I was fine when my dad asked me. My cousin is a boy and a month older than I am. When we were on a cruise with fourteen members of my family, we found out that the ship's movie theater was showing XXX: State of the Union, and all trooped in to watch it. It sucked. No one holds a candle to Vin Diesel when he's in the Xander zone. The first person I sent a message to after watching The Expendables was not my dad, but it was to my mom to tell her to tell my dad to see it. We love action movies. And movies with excessvie violence. My dad took me and my sister to Inglourious Basterds. In a full theater, we were the only ones to come out with broad smiles and warm, fuzzy feelings in our bellies. Everyone else just looked kind of green. Don't even get me started on Christoph Waltz. I won't stop. No I really won't.

Aw, look at his happy Nazi face.


As I got older, I was introduced to Mafia movies and shows. My dad loves The Sopranos and can quote Scarface at length. And will do it, even though it's mostly to piss off my mom. She always makes faces at our "manly" tastes but I think it's all an act. Her favorite scene in Pulp Fiction is when Marvin's head gets blown off as they're driving over a pothole. She will laugh until she cries at the mention of it.

Then came martial arts movies, which my boyfriend also loves with a hearty passion. I remember going to The Protector and coming out feeling so exhausted because we were so engrossed in it, it felt like we kicked and fought our way through film too..

The Protector; The loving story of what a man will do to get his elephant back.


We will watch, or try to watch, anything that has Jackie Chan in it. Especially if it's Around the World in 80 Days with Steve Coogan and ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER AS AN OTTOMAN SULTAN.


We love our action movies and action stars. Except Jean-Claude. He's just not as worthy. But that high kick is pretty impressive. Oh JCVD, you try so hard.


I like action movies and action stars. But I absolutely love the villains. Hans Gruber, Jeremy Irons as Jeremy Irons in everything Jeremy Irons has ever done, Prince John. I mean, you could probably explain this away with oh, I'm a girl I like the bad boys. I mean, I like rock stars too. However, it goes beyond that because well frankly, I'm not some bimbo who chases bad seeds because I feel I can "change." Piss on that, I have better things to do with my time. I think it's because although we like to cheer the hero on, the villain is just so much more interesting to watch. And that's what I want from my characters; some unique thing that separates them from the herd. In this way, it's not just a the bad boys or whatever. I will sit and yell for the good guys too if they give me something to yell about. Take for instance Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I was raised on that series.


My cousin and I had all the collectibles, we got the tapes, and we had themed sleepovers. I had to be Donatello because he wore purple which is girly but I liked Michelangelo best. That show toyed with my emotions like no other because as much as I loved each of my turtle boys whether they were the party dude or the one who, "did," machines, I couldn't help but love Shredder too, even if they didn't cut him no slack.


Why don't they make shows like that anymore? I grew up in Turkey but I lucked out because every single family member would tape episodes and buy stuff for me and my cousin whenever they travelled. We were not denied any American pop culture especially when they were heroes in a half-shell. Ugh, the British version was Teenage Mutant HERO Turtles. Yuck. How stupid. Everyone knows ninjas are just cooler and more bad-ass than simple-minded heroes. Way to go Britain, you ruin everything.

There's also Disney and all my male figures therein. Unlike the other girls (except my friends who were just as smart as I was), I turn my nose up at the princes. Come on. The one in Snow White says and does NOTHING. He kisses some hot girl who might as well be dead for all he knows. Sorry, not good enough. If he drop-kicked the evil stepmother after foiling her plans to take over the kingdom with help of German terrorists, that would've been a different story. Cinderella's prince has a more interesting father (don't you love bumbling kings? The sultan is another great one) but at least has one funny saving grace; he yawns at the gawking females during the ball (my cousin and I always thought this was hilarious). Prince Phillip in Sleeping Beauty, kind of had personality, actually. It was just boring. Beast from Beauty and the Beast was only awesome when he was a beast. I'm serious. He was so scary and intimidating and you couldn't avert your eyes every time he was on-screen. When he turned back into a human, he became a Ken doll. Literally, like all the sexual tension and attraction was gone. Between him and Belle I mean. Of course.

I liked Jafar. He was so cold, so calculating, so devilish, and his beard was so... twisted.



I liked Scar. Because he was Jeremy Irons as Jeremy Irons in everything Jeremy Irons has ever done.


And his song, "Be Prepared?" WITH MARCHING NAZI HYENAS? I was terrified and thrilled to the point where had I wet myself, I wouldn't know for what reason.

Again, it's not that they're bad boys. No, if that was the whole truth I'd like Frollo from Notre Dame who sings that song about wanting to rape Esmerelda (listen to it again, it's beyond disturbing). This is just further proof that we, mostly I, need characters, not bland cut-outs because I liked the good guys as well. But only if they had some great characteristic going for them. I liked Disney's Robin Hood. He was a fox, (hur, hur). He was charming and daring and cute, and man, don't look at me like that, I was not the only one admiring a two dimensional animal. I liked Zazu and Iago because I like self-righteous angry bird-men with crabby attitudes (one is a good guy the other is Gilbert Gottfried). I liked Stitch because he was a psychotic super smart alien hell-bent on destruction who had moves like Elvis. He was "bad," but then he was, "good," and he's still my favorite Disney character.

I liked Gaston because even though he was a pompous peacock and used antlers in all of his decorating, he wasn't just freakin' wall-paper like Prince Valiant or Prince Charming. God, they even had dumb names.

Hang on, they're doing the eponymous song on Men in Tights.



Sure, there are girls who like the bad boys and the rocks stars and the rebels. You like them because they command attention and are sure of themselves. They have character. They don't fade out. That's what it comes down to. As long as you're not something bland like, I don't know, terrible lo mein from Nan Ling, I will admire and like you. But you can be a "nice guy," and still have that. Half the action stars usually do, I mean, have you seen True Lies? Best Arnold movie ever and he's just a nice, normal family guy (Harry, who're you kidding with that accent?) and then it turns out he's like Superman with a secret identity and has to save everyone. He's amazing to watch. Take for another example, my boyfriend. He's a nice guy and I love him for it. But he's the best kind of nice guy, he has a motorcycle, loves metal, and thinks I'm the bees knees. He's like Pho Hoa's pho, familiar and tasty.

THAT'S IT. I like men, movie and otherwise, like I like my pho; delicious with that certain kick that makes you sweat.