I have these wonderful jeans that not so long ago were very comfortable to wear. A month ago, I noticed that I have to wiggle a bit more to get them over my ass, and that stopping to breathe helps to close the button. The scale confirmed my fears, 3 kilos more - oops, how did that happen? - and most of it seems to have gathered in one area.
Women have the right to have a little padding on their hips, right? Especially if they had a baby and are past their 35th birthday. And what do you shake in front of men if you have no ass? The only problem is to get new jeans. A big-assed woman, one head taller than the rest of the women in Hong Kong, doesn’t have too many choices. I went shopping last week, and could only find pants that were either too tight around the hips or too wide around the waist. It was frustrating, no fun at all… the ass has to go… and who is designing these ridiculous jeans anyway?
Where was I? Aah yes, I wanted to boast about my new work-out regime that I actually enjoy doing. No measurable impact on the ass yet, but I am having fun. Every morning after I bring little man to the school bus, I walk up the mountain behind my house at a brisk pace. The first time I arrived at the top I could hardly breathe, but by now it’s quite easy to do. Last Friday, I arrived at the top and even thought that it had been a bit too easy, so I decided to walk further along a trail I had never tried before.
I am so glad that I did. It wasn’t an easy walk. The trail was narrow and slippery from a tropical downpour a few hours before, but at times it felt like walking through an enchanted forest. There were lots of sparkly dragonflies hovering above rain pools. Yellow butterflies with brown dots that looked a bit like enchanted leopards, and black ones that were so big that I first mistook them for birds. I crossed creeks and marveled at the vegetation around me. Lush, green, and still dripping from the rain in the morning. Trees standing so closely together that there was hardly any light on the ground, ferns with elegant long leaves, and beautiful blossoms in yellow, pink, and red. The trail went along a mountain range directly at the ocean, and at times the views were breath-taking, and bit vertigo inducing. Would they be able to find me, if I slip and roll down the 200 meter slope to the shore?
I made it home intact, and as I was standing under the shower to get off the mud and sweat, I was thankful that Hong Kong, more known for its skyscrapers, still has these wild places. I feel very fortunate to live right at the edge between concrete and jungle.
PS: I have just looked at my popo in the mirror, and I could swear it’s a tiny bit smaller.
In an effort to not loose blogging momentum again, I am turning to TMI Tuesday for help. This week’s questions appeal to my sweet tooth…
1. Pancakes or waffles? With or without toppings?
That’s easy to answer… pancakes, plain or with orange jam, but I don’t scoff at waffles either.
No2. They say, “Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” What is the way to your heart?
Caring about me, listening to me, laughing with me, and spoiling me with attention, and if all that is done over a nice dinner, I am in heaven.
3. Have you ever gone to a topless/clothing optional beach? If yes, did you participate?
Lol… I am German. We are famous for it. We don’t need designated beaches either, city parks will do. I haven’t sun bathed topless in a very long time though, and would only do it in places, where I am not ogled at and feel safe.
4. What song reminds you of a previous relationship (for good or bad)?
Hmmm… can’t think of one for a previous relationship, but currently, I am very much in love with this song…
5. When, where and with who was your best kiss ever?
Thinking about it… every kiss I received was wonderful. I don’t want to rank them.
Bonus (as in optional): Does anyone not currently in a relationship with you have pictures of you or your body part(s) that you would prefer that other people not see?
No, I would never send such pictures to people I am not very close to, and that I don’t trust. Lol… and certain body parts will never be captured on film. There is a fine line between sexy pictures and anatomical bareness, and I am not keen to cross it.
“It’s a little bit risqué. So, if you need at any time… want to cover your eyes, you may do so. Here I come. Ready or not! …”
I would have loved to put the video of Shirley Bassey performing at Prince Philip’s 80th birthday bash here, but unfortunately embedding is disabled. So you have to click HERE to watch it.
I had so much planned this weekend, but we were grounded in our flat as the first typhoon of the season skirted Hong Kong, and brought lots of rain. Luckily, winds weren’t that strong, and no one got seriously hurt.
We had two inches of standing water on our kitchen balcony though. The rain came in almost horizontally and the drain was blocked. To prevent damage to the Korean wonder machine, I mopped up three buckets of water. So, despite of being indoors all day, I had plenty of exercise.
I also sorted through and uploaded pictures from a stroll through Mong Kok last week. Mong Kok is said to be the most densely populated area on earth. It’s a wonderful mixture of old and new, touristy and original, and - yes - it is very busy, even on a weekday afternoon. There are lots of shoppers, tourists, and people living and working in the area squeezing by along sidewalks, markets, and outdoor restaurants. I hope it will always stay as lively as it is today. I think it would be a real shame if street life gets sanitized and moved into shopping malls.
I started in Sai Yeung Choi Street South, which is a shopping street closed to traffic that runs parallel to the more famous Nathan Road.
School had just finished.
Looking for takers.
Hungry shoppers.
Entrance to Ladies’ Market, which is a bit of a misnomer. Tourist Market would be more appropriate.
Recently built apartment high-rise. One is fine, but my fear is that the whole area will look like this in a few years.
This shop is helping to fuel one of Hongkongers’ greatest passions. It’s wonderful to walk through streets and back alleys, and suddenly hear the clicky-dee-clack of Majong tiles and people chatting.
The Ladies’ Market in Tung Choi Street.
Chongsams in all sizes.
If you want to get lots of offers for “Tailored suits” and “Rolex”, wear a Stars and Stripes visor like this lady did. My strategy was to hide behind her.
They are probably not the safest buildings around, but I love how Hongkongers extend their living space by encasing roof terraces and balconies. And then, when the roof terrace looks like a proper building floor, why not build another roof terrace on top of it, and then encase it, and then build another, and another… ? Looking at this building it’s hard to see were the original building stops, and the upward extensions begin.
Bamboo scaffolding being set up. I got vertigo from just watching.
You’ve got mail!
“Toothpick” buildings are another Hong Kong way to deal with lack of space. My guess is that the building in the middle has a footprint of under 400 square feet.
I felt so lucky to have found these old market buildings on Reclamation Street. I had never been to the area before. As I rounded the corner, on the opposite side of a very busy road, there they were, row upon row of wonderful market buildings, run-down but full of charm. I did a bit of research on the internet afterwards, and learned that the buildings predate the second world war, and are still used for a wholesale fruit market.
When I was there, I assumed that the old white building was a market building as well, although I asked myself why it had received special treatment. It’s shiny white walls gleamed in the dark. It’s in fact the oldest surviving cinema building in Hong Kong. The “Yaumati Theatre” was built in 1925, but sadly had to close its doors in 1998. According to Wikipedia, there are plans to reopen it has a theater for Cantonese opera.
The wholesale fruit market.
Afternoon faded into evening, and suddenly there was a corner of golden light in front of me.
It was a store for altars and religious figurines, all carefully wrapped in plastic, which made them look like apparitions.
Once in a while, I like to get lost, stroll around and discover new things. Well ok, you have to make a real effort to get lost in Hong Kong, because there are street signs everywhere, and signposts pointing to the next subway station, but I didn’t look at them, and just walked. And then I rounded a corner and saw the stall selling vibrators, and I knew I was in tourist territory again. Then another stall followed, selling Nepalese bags and jewelry, then another, selling stickers (five sheets for HK$10 with Spiderman, Transformers, and other superheros little man loves), and so it became impossible to continue to pretend to be lost, because this was clearly Temple Street, Hong Kong’s famous night market.
I ate a big plate full of greasy noodles to celebrate the end of my adventure. Yes, that really is a roll of toilet paper on the table. I suppose it does the job of wiping people’s mouths just as well.
I hope you all had a wonderful Easter. We are still searching for that one chocolate egg, but I trust we will find it by Christmas.
I have been throwing away stuff today. I went through my closet, and threw away all the clothes I haven’t worn for at least two years. The yield was two big black garbage bags of clothes that I brought to the Samaritans’ collection container. Then little man and I sorted out one big bag of toys. Next went one garbage bag of bed and table linen, some of it received as wedding gifts from a marriage that is on the brink of oblivion. But that isn’t all of it. There is a big plastic container of pregnancy clothes in the storage room that I need to throw out, because as things stand now number two is not likely to come anytime soon. Problem is, it’s hard to get to. The storage room is full of stuff, that is not really mine - my husband bought it - but why do I have to live with it? I feel buried in stuff, and I want it gone… like yesterday.
After all the throwing-away, I saw a TV program about hoarders. Boy… at least our mess is confined to closets and storage rooms, but seeing the program reinforced the need to lighten the load. Of course there is that slightly guilty feeling of “you are throwing away things that are perfectly fine” but “I don’t want to be buried in stuff, that I don’t use” is much stronger.
So I am going to continue the theme over the next couple of days. There are more of little man’s toys to sort through, stacks of Cosima Inc. papers, shoes I haven’t worn in years, and nick nack that just gathers dust. I want it all gone.
And then there is the stuff that my husband bought, and has promised to take away soon. The promise was made a few months ago. The stuff is still here. Twenty kilos of electrical cables , an air cleaner that was switched on only once, a hi-fi system too complicated to use, hard case suitcase too heavy to take anywhere, and and and…
I spent a lot of time in my flat. It is my home as well as my work place, and I feel increasingly unhappy about the chaos in the corners. It needs to go.
Little man’s Easter holidays are going to start earlier than expected this year. The flu season is upon us, and yesterday the newspapers reported that three small children had died in Hong Kong during the last few weeks, who suffered from “flu-like symptoms”. Since the SARS crisis these outbreaks are taken very seriously, and apparently it was announced on the evening news last night that all primary schools and kindergartens would close a few days earlier for the Easter holidays, starting from today.
I had heard about the deaths, but hadn’t seen the news last night, so little man and I made our way to the school bus stop completely unaware this morning. Upon our arrival another little boy was saying to his mom “Maybe we don’t have to go school today”. I thought he said it because the bus was running a little late, and responded ” I think the bus is just a little late”. Then the mom informed me that she had just gotten a call from another mom, that there was announcement that all primary schools would close early for the Easter holidays.
Little man’s eyes lit up with anticipation of having an unexpected day of leisure and play. A woman came by, and seeing us stand with kids in school uniforms at the bus stop also told us about the announcement. Little man grabbed my hand, ready to go home. In my mind, I was already worrying about how to get the urgent work for Cosima Inc. done with little man around.
That’s when the school bus arrived with all teachers but a few less kids than usual inside. I told little man that he has to go to school, at the same time another mom announced that her boy wouldn’t go and that she would take him back home. Little man started to cry, and I felt terrible. After lots of promises about the fun things we would do this afternoon, and consoling by his teacher, little man’s tears stopped and he went inside the bus.
I am not worried that little man will get sick. He goes to a small school with open surroundings, and there has been no unusual increase of sick children in his class. Still, I think it’s a good decision to let the holidays begin a little earlier. Normal public schools in Hong Kong can be very crowded places with fifty children in one class, and it’s certainly wise to close them when a new strain of flu goes around.
I am usually not prone to panic. I don’t know if that’s wise or stupid. I believe in keeping a clear head and making your own decisions, on the other hand if something really bad happens we may be the last to attempt to leave the sinking ship, so to speak. Better safe than sorry? I also respect the other mom’s decision to take her son back home.
I was in Hong Kong during the SARS outbreak. It was a little eerie to see so many people in surgical masks on the streets, and people stocking up at the supermarket. The firm I was working at closed their offices for several weeks, and we were all working from home (which by the way worked out rather well). But the real outbreak seemed very distant. Most of the people who died lived in the same high-rise apartment block, which had inadequate ventilation on the back-side of the building. Windows there faced a deep, narrow U-shaped recess, through which used air from the flats below was pushed upwards to other flats.
I don’t think that politicians in Hong Kong have really learned that much from the SARS outbreak. The papers still report how inadequately Hong Kong’s public hospitals are equipped for major flu outbreaks (and this in a city that had budget surpluses for the last couple of years). And ventilation in high-rise buildings does not seem to be a major concern either. New high-rise apartment buildings are build even closer to each other than before.
It’s already Monday in these longitudes, and I really should be doing other things, but can’t bring myself to do them. I found the song below among my other iPod possessions while walking along the beach this morning. It made me smile. I don’t know if that smile translates to English, but I hope it does. Have a wonderful day!
Nice Day
(“Schönen Tag” by Tom Albrecht, translated by Cosima)
Good day! My name is Tom, and I am twenty-five years old.
This song is not really important,
and is something between nice and superfluous;
a bit silly too, “superkalifragilistisch”.
Maybe it turned out a bit too simple,
but I just want to say: I wish you…
a nice day.
One or two sunny thoughts.
Wish you a nice day.
And if the sky gets dark,
it’s not as bad as it seems.
A nice day.
It may be ridiculous,
but I sing a bit, sing a bit,
sing a bit only for you.
This song wants to hide behind you and not
arouse incentives to buy. No.
I have written it in four quiet five minutes.
It appeals introverted to your good inner core, and wishes you…
a nice day.
One or two sunny thoughts.
Wishes you a nice day.
And if the sky gets dark,
it’s not as bad as it seems.
A nice day.
It may be ridiculous,
but I sing a bit, sing a bit,
sing a bit only for you.
Have fun ironing, driving your car,
reading the papers, riding the tram,
while queuing in the supermarket.
I wish you a nice day.
Have fun eating, watching football,
making love, and building.
You homo sapiens listen up: I wish you a nice…
Yes, I know, this song isn’t really clever,
is not a hit single, not a commercial super success.
This song, you can love or hate it.
Take it into your arms or make faces at it, but it wishes you…
a nice day.
One or two sunny thoughts.
Wishes you a nice day.
And if the sky gets dark,
it’s not as bad as it seems.
A nice day.
It may be ridiculous,
but I sing a bit, sing a bit,
sing a bit only…
We were up at seven this morning. I am still trying to teach little man the concept of sleeping in on weekends … lol.
But we made up the early start by spending a few lazy hours afterwards in our PJs. Little man told me in detail last week’s school adventures, we simulated space shuttle lift-offs, and tried to transform his new transformer toy without breaking it. It took a while, was only slightly simpler than solving Rubik’s cube, but finally we managed to change the police car into a robot.
Before little man could say “and now please transform it back into a police car”, I suggested making pancakes. This was happily accepted.
Pancakes are our preferred lazy morning food, and little man has gotten quite good in helping me to prepare them. We make the European variety, thinner than American pancakes with more eggs. In German, they are also called “Eierkuchen” (egg cakes).
It’s funny how everyone has a slightly different recipe for these very simple dishes. Naturally, little man and I think ours is the best in the whole wide world :D.
Mix 200 grams of non-raising flour, 3 tablespoons of brown sugar, and three eggs in a bowl until the mixture is reasonably smooth. Then whisk in milk little by little until you have thin, smooth pancake batter. The amount of milk needed varies, but I would say it’s about half a liter. Let the batter stand for 10-20 minutes, to make it more elastic and avoid excessive flour taste, then whisk one more time.
Little man has become an expert at whisking. He started whisking before he could talk… lol. Attracted by the cool kitchen toy, he demanded a share of the action very early in life. I am glad to say that the spillage is now down to a minimum. This morning, he also cracked an egg… trying to fish the egg shell out of the batter slowed us down a bit.
Then the frying begins, and getting the temperature just right, makes a good pancake in my opinion. I have a gas stove, which lets me adjust the temperature instantly. I start by heating up the skillet at maximum heat for several minutes, only then I add a teaspoon of oil. When the oil is hot and evenly distributed in the pan, I turn down the heat to a minimum and add batter, just enough to cover the bottom of the pan after a little bit of swiveling. Heating up the pan thoroughly avoids the infamous first spoiled pancake.
After all the liquid has evaporated, I turn the pancake. I am a chicken and use a spatula, but one of these days I have to learn the cool throw-it-in-the-air trick to impress little man. The kitchen ceiling needs a new coat of paint anyway.
Little man tops his pancakes with extra sugar or orange jam, but I think they also taste good on their own. The recipe above yields about eight 7-inch pancakes, which we didn’t eat all at once… really.
I have neglected my statcounter reports ever since the swell of people searching for “underwater sex” and “boobs underwater” became overwhelming. Never underestimate what one post can do for your google rankings! But last week, I had a look again, and - I admit it - a good chuckle or two. Some of these search terms call out for a response.
“smelly sock lovers” - Eeeeeeeeeew!
“what is tea flavoring, rats” - They put rats in tea? Double Eeeeeeeeeeeeew!
“i am underwater” - Good for you!
“what do you call it if you are stuck underwater and you cant breathe” - Not so good for you. I would call it a dicey situation at best, and drowning at worst.
“kien hair stylist” - Kien seems to be a jack of all trades.
“What are a dirndel?” - A dirndl is a traditional dress worn in Bavaria and Austria on special occasions, for example the Munich Oktoberfest. That’s when one million Germans and two million Americans sit in giant tents, drink too much beer, and try to yodel.
In the north of Germany (where I come from, can you tell?), wearing a dirndl draws the same attention as wearing a Trekkie costume.
Dirndls worn in Bavaria are OK, I suppose, but what I don’t understand at all is the southern custom of drinking beer out of gallon-sized glasses. Bäääh! The beer gets stale and warm. Southern barbarians …
“how to ask for condom german hast” - Always glad to help :). It depends on the situation. If you are in bed with someone, who you know intimately, use the informal du: “Hast du einen Kondom?” (Do you have a condom?)
However, if you are in a shop asking a shop assistant, it’s better to use the formal sie: “Haben sie Kondome?” (Do you have condoms?) or “Wo finde ich Kondome?” (Where do I find condoms?).
Which reminds me of an AIDS-awareness-spot that was shown on German TV twenty years ago, and is now considered a classic :) … “Tina, how much are the condoms?”
“swedish word for from small hole” - Sorry, you are on your own with that one. I am only proficient in IKEA furniture names.
“cosima underwater” - You are at the right place :). Welcome!
“cosima lingerie” - I should have applied for a trademark.
“tall woman, little guys” - It happens. Don’t let it stop you from finding the love of your life. I know several couples who breach the conventions in that respect. They seem to be as happy (or unhappy) as couples who conform to the norm. I am 5′ 7 1/2” myself. Nicole Kidman (below) is 5′10 1/2″. To read the funny side of it go here.
“strong tall woman kills men “ - Gosh… there is the next Oscar winning performance for Nicole Kidman.
“japan clothed underwater sex” - The Japanese always seem to add an extra kinky twist to things and are very specialized in there preferences, don’t you think?
“minnie mouse underwater” - I hope this isn’t sexual. Here you go:
I have these wonderful jeans that not so long ago were very comfortable to wear. A month ago, I noticed that I have to wiggle a bit more to get them over my ass, and that stopping to breathe helps to close the button. The scale confirmed my fears, 3 kilos more - oops, how did that happen? - and most of it seems to have gathered in one area.
