movin' & shakin'

first and foremost, big bday shoutouts to the Watterbug & MC from Team A - both loyal followers of the freedom. membership has its privileges.

for me, it's back to the grind. last week was fun, the vacation from the vacation, which i know you all probably had a good little chuckle over. i know, it's ok.
but this is serious, i need to get busy, and fast.

teaching started up again this week, and as fast as i can drop English on my kids, my company signs me up for more classes. i still don't really understand how they operate. they are employing some sort of real-time inventory model. a class can be 24-hours away, and they come begging for me or someone else off their roster to help out. fortunately for them, i have very few excuses not to take what they throw at me. as it stands, i'm booked for classes every Wed & Sat for the next couple of months. woot.
i enjoy sharing classroom stories, and i promise this isn't turning into a kids say the craziest things - hong kong edition. i'm simply amazed just what exactly goes through their heads, especially when it involves me. i was waiting outside of my class with a teacher from the school, when a younger student looks at me, then says something in Cantonese to the local teacher. she quickly translates that the boy thinks i am 'very handsome'. i perhaps added the 'very', but either way, the kid is giving me props. it's an awkward flatter, coming from a young boy, however, it's just odd that it's part of the thought process. i'm fairly certain when i was 14 i didn't look at my teachers that way...maybe when i was 15 and it was the hot French teacher, but still...different.
on a similar level of vanity, the kids in my class took a stab at my age, suggesting i was 28.
'very good, class...'
i didn't correct them.
they also were quite fascinated by the size of my hands. this likely means that my nickname is now 'Mr. Big Hands'.
terrific.

with all these superficial comments going straight to my head, it's oddly coincidental that i got a call for a real casting today.
with wardrobe changes and all!
where do i begin.....

ok, well, how's about the part where they bumped me. twice....
for real, i got bumped...like a hack comic on a late night talkshow.
the casting call was 2-5pm, and being the mature model that i am, i was there a few minutes after the opening bell. waiting...waiting. finally, my contact comes out and apologetically asks if i can come back in an hour.
you see, Feraro (or something like that), another male model, had already jumped ahead of me. to add insult to injury, after my contact told me this, she asked 'oh, you must know Feraro?'...like he's the hottest goddamn thing to hit the runway since Hansel. pfft.
so, tail between legs, but still gliding, i have no choice but to wander around outside and come back later....
only to get bumped again.
this time, it was a client emergency, which really begged the question who i was actually here to see...as i thought they were the client. no matter, i wait again.
finally, attempt #3 to actually start my career was successful and i'm lead back into a fitting area, surrounded by a brotherhood of mannequins. the first wardrobe fitting is casual business attire - shirt, slacks, jacket - no tie, no problem. a small little area is curtained off for me to do a quick change. snap of the front, side, back and we're done. easy. i'm handed my next wardrobe and it's a cross between euro kidswear and euro kidswear pajamas. definitely not something i'd pick out for myself, but hey, this is a job and i'm a professional (in my head at least).
start my 2nd quick change, and i could be imagining this, but there's a certain scent on the clothes. a cross between ambercrombie cologne mixed with post-pubescent sweat.
it's model stink.
it's Feraro.
the bastard's in my head...focus Big Hands!
i repeat the triple turn, snap, and that's that.
the final portion of the test is a quick measurement session. tape out, and every inch of my body is recorded onto a stats sheet. i quickly scan and notice that there are targets imposed by the client for their 'perfect' model. was i a match across the board, you ask? no. not at all...but i have no idea how they grade this sort of thing. for the most part i was +/- 2cm on most of the criteria. i was then lead back out to the lobby and thanked for my time.
fingers crossed, i'll be back up in those PJs in a photoshoot near you.
if the day couldn't get any better, i was just asked to go for another casting tomorrow - to be a bag model. it's true what they say, big hands = big bag.
i'm a shoe in.

the London report

guess who's back?
hi folks, sorry for my rude drop-off after Day 1. i hit a spotty patch with the ol' internet for a few days, attempting to survive without the luxury of in-room wifi.
though extremely tough, what enjoyment i lost in surfing & blogging, i made up for with touring the amazingly vibrant city of London. i had such a good time. really.
maybe it's the Brit in me, returning to my roots.
or maybe it was the uncharacteristically sunny March weather. whatever the reason, i leave this place seriously thinking that i could live here one day.

now, that sort of bold statement might make one assume that i did everything on the tourist check-list.
let me take the initiative on the Q&A:

how were the museums, Rich?
don't know, i actually didn't go to any.

how many shows did you get to?
none.

the view from the London Eye must be spectacular!?
i'm sure it is, but i didn't go up.

generally speaking, it wasn't that kind of vacation. thanks to a few loyal freedom fans, i was helped along in my travels with the unique knowledge that only a local can provide. the insider edge to the best places to go, the best cafes and pubs to indulge, and some cool neighbourhoods to explore that aren't necessarily going to show up in the city guide top-10 lists. in my opinion, you can visit somewhere based on what a book tells you, or you can experience it like a local would.
simply put, locals know.

of course, there's only so much you can do in half a fortnight. i'm sure there are plenty of things i missed out on (including the Oxford-Cambridge boat race), that i'll have to catch on the flipside. in the meantime, i'd like to pass along some of the learnings from my trip for anyone thinking of kicking it, London style.

Do - check out the many parks that central London has to offer, including Hyde Park and Regent Park.
Don't - go for a jog in the park without a map. I was limping around for a few days as a result.

Do - take advantage of the expansive subway system, known as the tube, & grab yourself an Oyster (pay as you go) card. All you do is swipe and you're in business.
Don't - get stuck in the tube without any money on your card. you won't be able to top up inside the gates and you'll be forced to nearly piggyback the guy in front of you just to sneak through the turnstile.

sticking with the tube for a sec,
Do - download the Tube app before you set foot on it. it's free and it helped me endlessly, with a route planner mode and easy access to the tube map. it didn't ultimately prevent me from going the wrong way on the tube about 5 times, but it could have been a lot worse without it.
Don't - run ahead of your partner when trying to catch a connecting train. One minute you'll be saying 'pick up your knees, hon!', the next minute you'll turn around and he/she will have hopped through the nearest open train door. Not good for many reasons.

Do - sample the amazing variety of cuisine a global city like London has to offer. I recommend a curry on Brick Lane (east London) or a secret wine bar/bat cave near Charing Cross.
Don't - eat McDonald's while on vacation. it's not becoming of you or anyone. did i eat McDonald's during my stay? well, yes i did...BUT, i had a really good reason. it was 2am, drinks had circumvented dinner...and i needed something....ugh. i'm guilty. if there's any positives from this, when i told my taxi driver to stop, i didn't refer to it as MacDonald's, like most Brits.

from a hotel perspective,
Don't - stay in an area called Docklands. far doesn't begin to describe the proximity between it and central London. 3-4 tubes and/or 40 quid for a taxi are what you'll be faced with. that said, i shouldn't/shan't complain about the hotel too much, given it was a freebie. given the choice though, Notting Hill was a much superior location. after my long days of touring & transport, the hotel did provide the comfort of my daily afternoon routine of workout/swim/hot tub.

Do - check out the various district markets, especially for fresh food and/or crappy vintage gear. Portabello market (Notting Hill) and Borough market (London Bridge) were two that stood out.
Don't - be afraid of Covent Garden. i had memories of this place being a little seedy and tainted with street performers. although the latter is true, and is somewhat a commercial stop, they have at least kept all of the original buildings intact. one of these so-called restorations just happens to be the Apple store, where a certain someone decided to line up for 6 hours on a whim and the prospect of buying the new iPad 2. am i crazy? yes, a little. was it worth it? not sure, check back when i have a buyer. that said, i don't think i have ever lined up for anything like that in the past. no overnight waits in the movie ticket line or Black Sunday queueing outside Wal-Mart. i figure we all should experience this kind of desperation meets humiliation meets geekiness at least once in our lives. check.

i'm writing this, having returned to Hong Kong. jetlagged a little, but happy to be back in the home space. romo is in good shape (thanks Team A), and now back to the mission at hand - make some money. teaching & iPads should help cover London...but Bali is a month away.
you want fries with that shake?

oh, and of course, some pics of the whole thing.

day 1 - fireworks & foot patrol

i shut myself down extremely hard last night for bed.
it was around 9pm local time i believe, which i must again reference was close to 5am back in HK. the couch could have been a cloud full of pillows for all i cared...it was good night wet nurse for me.
that is of course right up until the fireworks started.
yes, real light 'em up fireworks, colours and multiple bang type of fireworks.
i have no idea what time the festivities began, probably around midnight i suspect.
normally, i would use words like annoying and hooligans to explain my reaction to these types of events. yet, given my somewhat spacey orientation, i felt like the bunker was under attack...seriously. i couldn't understand what in the hell was happening. perhaps there was a major holiday in the UK on March 20 that i was unaware of....or somehow i had slept right through to the 4th of July (which doesn't make sense for a number of reasons i realize...)
it was crazy.
heart racing, eyes shifting, i finally simmered myself down after a couple of minutes and i was once again back to dreamsville.

4:30am comes and i'm wide awake, yet somewhat happy at the same time for putting in almost 8 hours. refreshed & excited, the first thing that came into my head, strangely enough, was to go for a run around Hyde Park. hmm...odd choice really, given i really don't run back home. i guess there's just something about a large well-known park that makes people convince themselves that it needs to be enjoyed at pace, i.e. Central park or Jurassic park (give it up for the 90's, people).

i gear up, including a borrowed toque from my so-called roommate given it was a little frosty this morning and start the stride. if i were to compare my running style today to someone else, there's no question that i was definitely Forrest Gump out there.
and i quote:
"For no particular reason I just kept on going."

well, actually, there was a reason. i'm crap at directions.
the plan, before i left home base, was to run in a straight line to the park, do a portion inside the grounds and basically circle back and return as i came.
didn't quite turn out that way.
who knows what happened; maybe i got caught up with all of my fellow early morning runners out there, to the point where i think i followed a few of them the wrong way out of the park. for real.
a few minutes go by and i'm definitely not remembering any of these streets and certainly cannot see any of the breadcrumbs i'd dropped.
screw it, i'm lost.
lucky for me, i'm running with my iPhone...and even though it continues to prevent me from connecting to 3G, i still have the gps/location services working.
come on, blue ball, tell me where i am....
it does just that and it's confirmed - i'm nowhere near where i should be.
for a real runner, this wouldn't be a problem. just figure out the proper route and hightail it back. for me, i was already spent. nothing left in the tank. in fact, i would need to run even further back home than the first half of the leg.
nothing left to do but suck it up and start the jog-walk combos.
jog then walk. jog then walk.
you're gonna make it, buddy, even if it takes you til Noon, you can do it!
and i did. hooray for me.
all-in, a funny (typical) experience for me.
here's the Family Circus/Google Map track for you to see. i will remind you, this should have been one straight line from A to B and back.

how was the rest of your day, Forrest?
well, actually it was great.
covered a lot of ground, from Covent Garden to Leicester Square, Big Ben, Parliament, kids (yes, i already used that one yesterday, but you gotta give it up for European Vacation). my dogs are barking, enough for one day i say. some much needed downtime, perhaps a quick nap, and then a few pints to round out the evening in all likelihood.

a quick post freedomites, i know....with little-to-no real London content; yet i ask you,
are you not entertained!?

have blog, will travel (aka London, baby)

13 hours.
13 fun-filled hours, confined to an airplane seat.
trapped like a rat.
in economy.
that's what i'm currently dealing with.

oh, hi folks, just checking in from 35,000 feet above Siberia at the moment...or is that Mongolia down there...?
not quite sure, but either way we're headed across Asia, over Europa until we reach our final destination of London.

it's a funny thing, all this time.
some choose to sleep or read...maybe a little bit of work.
to each his own.
me on the other hand, i'm indulging in the all-entertainment avenue.
after a short 5-minute catnap on the tarmac, i moved quickly to the tv shows, movies, and music...and in-between, staring blankly at the business class curtain divider.
did i mention Aline is up there?
all stretched out & comfy...almost too much room, wouldn't you say?
i can imagine the bottles are popping, the chocolate fountain flowing, all of them up there laughing in their splendor.
gee, i'd sure love a warm brownie & ice cream back here in 'low-class'..., i mean economy.
i actually stole that line from one of the fabulous features i've taken in thus far.
here's a quick rundown so far -
1 x The Office (UK version...when in Rome)
2 x Modern Family
2 x Curb
Due Date (where the aforementioned reference came from)
In Bruges, followed by another 3 Modern Familys.

as for the food, it's not bad.
7/10 maybe....
started off with an omelette for brunch, followed by the pasta for lupper.
i have no general issues with eating meat, i just find the pasta is usually the best/safest option to go with when flying.
yes, it likely screws over 'vegetable lasagna', sitting all the way in the back of the plane, but that's his fault for not checking in online earlier.

don't get me wrong, i'm certainly not complaining about the 'situation' i'm in.
am i a little jealous about Aline's 'situation'? yes.
am i a little uncomfortable in my 'situation'? a touch.
that said, we're inside 4ish hours from touchdown at Heathrow and the start of my vacation.
yes, you heard me - vacation!
i'm working now, i deserve to throw that word around again.
my only hope is that Aline is able to join in on the festivities eventually on this trip.

i packed ultra slim for the jaunt, rocking only 2 carry-ons.
nothing checked but the rent.
it's the epitome of liberation and efficiency to walk straight through to the airport exit, via the EU line (i gotz the passport) and bypassing that horrible luggage roundabout.
as I type though, i'm still mulling my 2 options to get from the airport into the city - either by the tube or an express train to Paddington.
the latter is 3x faster, yet 6x more expensive.
hmmm.
for those that know me well, that math is easy.

upon arrival, i'm meeting up with a friend of a good friend to pick up keys to said good friend's flat, where i'll lay it down for the first 2 days of the trip...
after which, the bank is ponying up for our hotel for the duration.
when i say 'room', you say 'service'....
(of course i would never dream of it, sweetheart.)

oh, the places you'll go when in London.
there's Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Parliament, kids....
yes, i will likely see these landmarks in passing, as i play my trademark "Get Lost - London Edition" game.
but i'm actually more excited to check out some cool neighbourhoods, get a taste for some local faves.
Team Oz member, Lou, was kind enough to provide me with the inside scoop on her must-see's.

editor's note - as i pound the keyboard, my neighbour across the aisle is watching Black Swan, and i can't help notice that in the last 5 minutes, both Natalie and Mila have been doing a lot more than dancing.
note to self: watch this flick on the way home.

the plan for this evening -
grab a pint, grab some bangers & mash, and likely crash out on the couch while watching Countdown.
so pretty much what i'd normally be doing, just in a different area code.

if any freedomites have any suggested itinerary additions, feel free to fire them up.
remember, this is as much your trip as it is mine.
oh, the places you'll go.



-------
real-time update>
i made it safely into Notting Hill, via the more expensive/quicker express train. shocking, i know. met up for the pad keydrop followed by a great pub meal & pints in me from the local down the road. aside from my mobile not working and word that Aline is without her luggage in Manchester, things are good....well, at least for me i suppose.
eyes heavy, 3:30AM HK time. bed imminent.

Jew or not a Jew?

stop me if you've heard this one...
a man walks into an education office for an interview.
he meets with a lady and she asks him 3 questions:
"Do you have a HKID card?"
"Do you have any teacher training?"
"Do you have any teaching experience?"
The man, somewhat defeated, responds "No" to all 3.
The lady pauses for a moment, then says "When can you start!?"

it looks like i really impressed with that subbing duty on Saturday, as they have now extended actual full courses my way. in fact, i just returned from my first lesson as part of said course. allow me to break it down for y'all.

it's an 'intro to journalism' class, where the students will go through the process of creating their own school magazine, from design, to photography, layout and writing.
neato!
i'm actually quite excited about the material, as i never had the chance to be part of one of those super cool high school newspaper teams we all remember from 90's TV. eat your heart out, Zuckerman.
i received all of the course materials the night before, and unlike last time, i was sober and eager to review. class couldn't start soon enough.

one catch, of course, is that the school is FAR. i'm talking New Territories far, kids. though that region likely doesn't mean much to anyone back home, with a name like that, it just screams 'why the hell would you go there?' it's in a town called Fanling, and i have definitely never been this far away from the safety of Hong Kong Island. i was probably another 15mins away from mainland China.
no worries though, my work contact tells me there's a direct bus from Wanchai, get me there in just over an hour. fair enough.
yet, for it to be a 'direct bus', there actually needs to be a mother f'n bus. standing at the bus stop like a jerk for about 45 mins, seeing every other bus come and go about 5 times over...and yet still no #373 to speak of. Rich is starting to get concerned. flip my assistant a text to let her know of my difficulties and she talks me through it.
the result?
4 MTR lines, 13 MTR stops and a $150 taxi ride later, i finally arrive at the school 15 mins late. and although i realize this isn't a life&death type of gig, i definitely owe it to these aspiring beat reporters to be there on time. and i failed. at least next time i know what to do.

belated, the class gets going and what a difference a few days make. these kids couldn't be any better behaved. finally, some attentive students facing forward and not throwing their pencil cases each and every way. i did have to speak up a little as i introduced myself though, as the school band practices right next door with glee. decided to ditch the 'Mr Rich', opting for 'Mr Morgan'- the phonetics making much more sense.
i reiterate, the kids are listening...it's brilliant.
i even brought along some real-life materials for discussion - Aline's 'US' vs. My/Atila's 'Rolling Stone'. the class was eating it up.
took a slight detour for a second, when i questioned the merits of archaic print magazines to the super hot digital iPad editions...but figured that could be saved for another day. next, i explain the various roles of a magazine team, from editor to coffee-fetching interns. i ask everyone to get into teams of 4 and appoint roles for the creation of their own magazine company.

things are going well, and i start on my personal tour of the classroom...it's all about 'connecting' with these honour rollers.
a few general questions about the roles, and then i was stopped by a student who had a really pressing question for me -

Student (in broken English) - "Sir, are you a joo?"
Me - "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you, can you repeat?"
Student - "Are you joo?"
Me (still not getting it)) - "I'm sorry, a what?"
Student (turning this into a spelling exercise) - "J-E-W."

yikes.
apparently, the student made the comment based on my nose.
now, don't get me wrong, i certainly don't condone racial profiling in any way, but that's not the point AT ALL.
do i really have a big nose?
shit.

with the awkward near-miss of the anti-Semitic portion of the lecture, the rest of the class was a breeze.
it actually flew by, and i was forced to give the kids homework (read: bastard).
a few kids stuck around after class, and nose notwithstanding, a few suggested that i could be, get this, a model....!
"huh, you kids are wise beyond your years...i'm actually looking to break into the...."

no. not yet, Rich. wait til they need a cover model for this mag....then we'll see who's a model teacher.

the duck likes nuts very much

this post is dedicated to all the teachers i've ever had or ever known.
you are truly saints.

let me back up to Friday night.
it's 5pm, and i'm glued to all of the devastation unfolding in Japan.
insane.
at the time, it still wasn't completely clear just how bad it was/would turn out to be.....and i'll admit to briefly thinking of the possibility of a tsunami coming down this way.
fortunately, this did not come to fruition.

the reason for this preface is so i don't sound like a total a-hole when i tell you i turned off CNN 30 mins later to jump in a taxi, on route to the HSBC employee-bar. no disrespect to the tragedy unfolding, simply a few bankers needing a pint and i got the call. as we pulled up to HQ, i unintentionally short-changed the cabbie while at the same moment receiving a ring on my mobile. it was Queenie (real name) from the English teaching company i was referred to, looking for a last minute sub to teach a Saturday morning class.
"Queenie, i'm in."

now, you may ask if, in fact, i have any teaching experience?
that would be a very definitive no.
no teaching, no teacher's college, not even a camp councilor gig for god's sake. no, the closest i suppose i've ever been to teaching would be playing 'manager' for creative teams in the advertising game. not really the same thing.

cut back to the evening - a few pints at the bank, a bottle of wine down the road, a small dinner, and another couple of beers and our Friday night was fully completely. get home, and with eyes nearly wide shut, i open the email with tomorrow's teaching materials attached. ah, looks easy enough, it's English for children, i'll be fine. at that point, i was more concerned with how long it was going to take to get to the school, which just happens to be at the very far end of HK in a place called Tsuen Wan.
need sleep. deal with it tomorrow.

8am - rise & shine, teach! i shake last night's haze off, pick out what i consider 'teacher gear', and set on out. as soon as i jumped on the MTR, i counted the stops til my destination - 15, plus a short mini-bus ride to follow.
fantastic.

to be honest though, i was happy i had the time to review exactly what i was going to be teaching. yes, i was a little nervous. not for the fact of having to get up in front of a classroom full of kids...that's easy enough. it was more the idea that i still wasn't really sure what the hell i was supposed to be instructing, given i had received multiple PDFs of course material. it reminded me of that dream we all have, when you've somehow forgotten to attend a class all year and then realize you have an exam that day. deer in headlights, not a good look.

nerves settled down though once i arrived and met up with my assistant for the day, Lucy. she told me not to fret, that each class (i had 2 different levels that day) had the printed materials in the room and there was a specific lesson from the material to be taught.
ok, let's do this.

P1 aka "Terror Tots"
my first class was P1, which i was lead to believe is 6-7 yr olds. the protocol is to gather your class, who were all lined up in the open air mezzanine (good start) and take them up to the room. aside from the 'no running!' i needed to throw out early and often, i figured this was going to be easy. i actually started to think more about my teacher 'schtick', including writing "Mr. Rich" on the chalkboard and looking desperately for a ruler or a pointer...a standard teacher 101 tool.
unfortunately, i fear the kids saw right through the act. i barely had a chance to pick up the chalk i'd broken after scribbling my name down that the madness began. 20 kids, in theory here to learn English but obviously not interested in doing anything but yelling/poking/wrestling etc. apparently most had also downed a 2L tetrapak of Vitasoy prior to class, asking in sequence to go to the toilet. no joke. it was all going downhill before it began, and Mr. Rich was perhaps going to crack if not for the kid in the front row. finger in nose. pulling out the merchandise. i smiled to myself....let's begin.
it wasn't easy, but i got through it. i don't know if any of the kids truly learned much from their workbooks, but to be honest, i feel like half the battle is simply for them to soak up the English words that are coming out of my western mouth. i did the walk-around, interacting with little pockets of the kids vs. trying to engage them all from the front. we even finished off with a riveting game of 'Simon says', where i unleashed the patented 'Simon says - go to sleep'.
One down, one to go.

P4-P6 aka "Older & Wiser"
Same routine as before, more or less. Smaller class fortunately, of kids aged 10-12ish. generally speaking, they were much easier to handle aside from the 2 rowdy boys in the back. there was even a super keener girl at the front of the class, the type of student i probably would have made fun of as a peer, now as a teacher, i call her 'the golden child'. they all made a presentation of what they liked to do on weekends, not one of them mentioning how much they enjoyed English class on Saturdays. we finished strong with a game of hangman, then ring the bell - school is out.

all-in, aside from the slight headache, it was a unique experience and one that i will certainly carry fond memories for. i'm actually hoping that more teaching opportunities will come my way, as it was indeed a paid gig. going to put in a request for gym class next though...and the kids will forever let it be known as "Hangin' with Mr. Rich".

short comings

been one of those weeks, loyal freedomites, where the weather hasn't engaged the adventure in me. been a bit quiet, but i'm pleased to announce that i will soon be taking the Freedom on the road for some international man of mystery blogging to London (England, not Ontario). more details to come next week and yes, it is notably a bit odd to take my first trip while living in Asia to the UK. alas, i simply go where the wind takes me (aka Aline).

so quick rundown for the week starting with perhaps the most exciting bit of news - i'm back on the iTrain, the iPhone has come home to daddy. reluctantly had to give up my previous iPhone when Tribal was done with me. i had been on a pretty good streak, about 5 years of company mobiles, alleviating any need for me to worry about my own personal device. having lived here for over 2 months, i was going a little stir-crazy without a phone; how would my 2 friends & modeling agencies ever get a hold of me??
so, biting the proverbial bullet, i decided it was time to throw down for my own phone.
easier said than done.
you see, in Hong Kong, and pardon the expression, but you ain't shit without an HKID. nothing crazy about that acronym, it is what it sounds like - a Hong Kong ID card. to get one, you either need to be born here or be lucky enough to be married to someone with one. scratch both of those and i'm out of options. no HKID means no to a lot of things, including a mobile phone. one loophole is to register a business, which is fine, but you also need to provide proof of a business address.
i'm screwed again.
fortunately, the wisdom of team America shone through and i was told of a great deal through HSBC provided Aline would be my guarantor. done.
perhaps the best part of the whole experience was the fact that 3 days after the first communication, the phone was delivered to my door...(another cool thing about HK, everything can be delivered, and usually free or minimal cost).
i've missed you so much, iP4.
for a good time, not a long time, call 9506 6205.

as i was saying, deliveries are super common here. once a week, i get groceries delivered, same-day couriers for about $2 CAD, and even master Romo's fancy organic pine fresh litter comes to the door. no wonder i never leave the flat. although, i did motivate myself to pop down to the local post office this week. you see, we had a rebate cheque sent to us here, from Canada, and i needed team Parents to help me get paid. yes, i'm riffing on a snail mail bit here......tough crowd. anywho, i was thinking this postage would run me at least dbl digits, so i packed my pockets with shrapnel and set forth. here's the payoff - for an air mail stamp and even a nice crisp envelope, it cost me $4. $4 hkd or $0.50 CAD. are you kidding me? basically i'm making money on this deal. what a shame that snail mail is total crap, short of greeting cards to the grandparents. otherwise, you'd all be getting a personal note signed & sealed from your fave asian misfit.

finally, i'm happy to report that i was 1 for 3 this week on the circuits. figure it should increase as time goes on, but for now, it's something i need to build up to at the end of each week.
today's rating - a 3 out of 10. i would agree for the most part, aside from the 'warm-up' which usually always kicks the two scoops out of me. we actually had a bunch of groupies today in the park, some mimicking our movements and some giggling and pointing as we finished up with some downward dogg style stretches.
for what it's worth, i gave them a few extra pumps of the guns, my version of the cap tip.
also, it looks like i've found my way onto a hockey team through the circuit crew. first game is this Thursday, and do not fear, i'll be keeping track of my stats for you all.
and before you say it, allow me - "they play hockey in Hong Kong??"
sure, a few anyway. it doesn't compare to the pick-up gymnastics on every corner, but it's growing...

tacos & tootsies

i'm happy to report that the united nation of freedomites is getting bigger by the week; thank you kindly, all. big shout outs to the latest fans - Team America & Team OZ over here with me on the eastern hemisphere side. not to make anyone jealous, but these lucky fans also had the opportunity to sit down for dinner with Mr. Freedom himself on Friday night, over a platter of kick-ass tex mex. yes, even Hong Kong can whip together a nachos grande.

keeping with that sentiment, i feel there's perhaps a bit of a misconception of the culinary delights of this new city of mine. many a friend have asked how the 'street food' is and/or how much dog i'm fetching for supper. While the former is certainly an option (called Dai Pai Dongs), and i'm sure if i tried hard enough i could find a place to carve a little off lassie, it is definitely not the go-to for breakfast/lunch/dinner. Hong Kong offers the full spectrum of global cuisine that one would expect to find in any World-class city. yes, i am including the tex mex on this list, but it goes way further than that. French, Italian, Sushi, Nepalese, if a country has a kitchen, its cooks have infiltrated this city. perhaps i am sticking a little close to the western part of my palette still, for which you can shake your heads. Me..., I'm gonna keep rolling the way i am - strictly first-class international fooding.
Come join me, won't you?


From food to feet, and from 1st class to 3rd-World, allow me to take you on a little impromptu escape into the realm of a local foot massage -

a Saturday spent shopping, rendering us both a little beat.
i ask, what better way to unwind than someone rubbing on those feet?
soothing and soaking, i expected to drift away,
like laying on a beach, the ocean flowing, the palm trees sway.
just a word of advice though, don't open your eyes.
the dream world uncovered, an unkind surprise.
for your feet are submerged in a janitor's bucket,
the ocean's a toilet, clearly wish we'd said f*ck it!

ah poetry, so underrated. the experience i rhyme about was sadly fairly bang on. now, far be it from me to be all snooty and compare this local thai massage business to a fab spa at a 5-star hotel. it clearly wasn't that kinda place. a simple abode on the first floor of a very typical local-style building. the sign out front perhaps gave it away - '45-minute foot massage for $80hkd'. that's all of $10 CAD, so fairly cheap. still, i at least figured i'd get something similar to the picture to the side here.

instead, the place was straight out of a David Fincher flick (not the Facebook movie).
Super dark, not really dingy, just poorly illuminated, the place had 4 chairs back to front in a row. it was somewhat busy, so i got relegated back to the cheap seat. yes, i was sat right next to the little stall of a toilet, and who would have imagined that so many people required to utilize it after a 45-minute massage. and yes, some made the very most of it. combine this with one of the ladies, wearing super tight jean shorts and eating her lunch snack in my ear, as i also happened to be right next to the kitchen. again, i'm not intending to make fun of this home/parlour, it's just a commentary on the situation i happened to be ankle-deep in. finally, the actual massage itself was pretty good. a little pain through the tenderness of it all....Raúl really knew what he was doing down there. no joke, when we finished and headed for home, i felt like i was walking on a cloud. perhaps just happy to make it out in one piece.
that's it folks, la bon fin.....

bi-Friday's

it's your end of the week "double dose" of Freedom for Friday, March 4. (btw, we're now 2 months into the Kong, if anyone is counting).


booty camp

last week, i skimmed through a high-level review of a couple of war flicks. as was mentioned in that specific post, Full Metal Jacket depicts a platoon of soldiers going through basic training, physically preparing for the rigours of war by participating in obstacle courses & running...lots of running. now, don't get me wrong, i absolutely know i have no place in the army. however, i have always been interested to see how i would do when pushed to my limit. i do tend to workout a lot, but i often go easy on Lil Richie, given i'm such a nice person...
plus, i always kinda made fun of people for bragging about "going to see my trainer". it just sounds like yuppy bullshit.
regardless, enough is enough, it's time to go extreme and get bikini-ready. via a newly-acquired expat buddy of mine, i was turned onto a circuit training group that meets M-W-F over lunch in Hong Kong park.
today was the maiden voyage and as a result, tomorrow will likely be the fetal position. reason being, i kinda got my ass kicked, which probably shouldn't come as a surprise. here's a quick breakdown -

• squats up steps, broken up by push-ups on the landings
• lunges up a hill, followed by more push-ups
• abs, including planks for what felt like an hour
• more push-ups, burpees (always thought this was a stupid name), and a few other no-pain-no-gain exercises. i'm spent.

will i be back on Monday? let's call it a game-time decision...but it can only get easier from here, right? (side note: i was told today was a 4 out of 10 on the pain scale). game-time decision...

introducing......RPM Productions

not sure how to really get into this post, given the internet is one big digital admittance on the record FOREVER. so, let's start from the top. i technically don't have a work visa in this country. but i would like to think that when i'm ready to get back into the game, i'll be able to do so without much of a hassle. as such, there needs to be a way around all of these so-called 'labour laws'....
-cross fade-

Welcome to RPM Productions, the business-minded producers with a creative edge.

the first rule of RPM Productions - you don't talk about RPM Productions...well, actually, you don't talk about the person/persons behind RPM Productions.
now that we have that straightened out...(blank stare emoticon), let's get down to business. the company, founded in January 2011, offers 'consulting services' primarily focused on the web/ad space. however, RPM Productions may also find its way into teaching, bartending, banking, importing/exporting...you name it, they can do it. RPM was built on a dream..and on a WordPress template. simple & clean, a few people were involved in helping this get off the ground - GMac & Kiwi, kudos to you both. i, like many, look forward to following the progress of this newly-formed company and keeping you all informed when (if) they get themselves a client.

Oh, one last thing. businesses in Hong Kong have a very unique and important tool that is not shared with businesses back home. I present to you, the company chop. a chop is more or less a stamp, kinda like what you would have found in a librarian's hand in the 80's for inking those precious due dates in the back of Hardy Boys novels. normally back home, an official document can be merely signed; not in Hong Kong, my friends. you need to chop that document like your life depended on it. only once you've got your company seal on it will the deal be done. that's your HK insight for the day.
unfortunately, 'don't dip your chop in the company ink' seems to get lost in translation over here though.

cut.it.out.

we're living in a crazy time right now.
unrest in the middle east & Africa.
persisting global economic worries.
Charlie Sheen.

when you lay it all out, it's really not all that dissimilar to the issue i was faced with today: i needed to find a place to get my hair cut.
for you see, it's the simple things in life that we oft take for granted. gone is my cozy little 'salon' on Granville, where Brandie would always have a cold beer ready for me to get me nice & relaxed before the chop.

that was then.....this is Hong Kong. doing a little bit of research, there are a couple of different tiers of cutters in this town. you have the higher end 'salons', like Tony & a Guy (or something like that), where you'd end up paying a ton of cash. i don't think my hair deserves you, Tony.

on the complete opposite end of the scale, i found a very unique approach to a barber shop. it's called an alley, with a chair and an old man. now this is Hong Kong, people! i was actually really psyched to go check this out, as it's merely a few blocks away from us. unfortunately, it just so happens that they are throwing up another condo on that block, so the old guy has certainly picked up and moved to another little nook (archive image below).

Third option is the chop shop, figuratively and literally. there is a very efficient mentality to these types of barbers - get 'em in and get 'em out. one place even brags to offer the '10-minute haircut', and goes as far as to breakdown their patented efficient system to haircutting. to be honest, that is very much ok with me. the beer notwithstanding, i would have been ecstatic to escape the chair short of an hour on average back home. this ain't no magic cuts either...., there is still some TLC in those sheers. average cost of a cut here - $50hkd ($6 CAD); now that sounds like magic cuts.

so, which place did i end up at? actually none of these. i found a somewhat normal looking place not far from the condo development, walked in and within 15 mins & $100hkd, i was freshly shorn. i suppose it's the hybrid choice for my hair. next time out though, i'm gonna take a poll and you, the Freedomites, will get to choose a hair style for me. (fine print - if i have a real job by then, this offer is null & void).
oh, and here are a few random shots that have very little to do with a hair or cutting.