Santa and one of his elves

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Sign of Solidarity...

... and compassion.

Tedious Destination

What the hell is this place up to?

Where is their justification for raising prices on admission and drinks?
Consumer prices are coming down in the midst of looming deflation. Hello?

The security guys are a downright rude bunch of goons: perhaps a good thing if you hadn't already bought an (overpriced) entrance ticket and were just loitering about and looked like a gay-basher.


One last photo of summer


Welcome me back!

From the final days of summer, to the return to Beijing, I'm back.
Reading back on the posts I kept under wraps while I sorted out my Vancouver departure, I realised I'd left not a moment too soon. I was obviously not myself without my better half those lost six months. The past 8 weeks here in his arms are just what I need to put my suspicions to rest and get on with our lives together.

The man, the bag or both?

A Louis Vuitton Man-Bag,
a fine accessory
for a fine guy.


No love lost

Another drunken excuse for another missed call. It makes me feel that much less important when he can't do what he says he will. Every night this week I left any engagement to be home early enough to catch him upon awaking at noon. I even went as far as waking up early enough to be there when he said he would. At least we could chat on the phone, but it wasn't the same, nor was it enough.

Some kind of nag I must be, which according to many means I must really love him. And I suppose for many, this kind of nagging is appreciated as a sign of love. I do understand that, but I don't agree with it for two reasons. The first is, I don't handle this stress well. The second is, I don't have to accept this stress. I don't find any justification for love under stress.

Meanwhile, he doesn't nag me about anything. I doubt his lack of nagging is because he doesn't love me. He says he does - all the time. Conversely, my nagging must mean I love him. Tricky.

So instead of changing my Facebook relationship status from 'engaged' to something else, I won't.  It clearly doesn't have any value to any number of people anyway, least of all his Best Friend, who is cutely 'engaged' to their mutual girlfriend. Just empty words. At the same time, I don't want to alarm others, such as family, prematurely.

Does that mean there is hope? Symbolically, I no longer wear the ring he gave me. There's no love lost.

Ring-less

It has to be written about. Just as much as it had to be talked about. But then it's sometimes easier to give up and hang up. Ignore it altogether? Not quite.

The 'cultural difference' card was played. Married men and women in Asia don't usually wear wedding rings. I'm glad I was told this before I married an Asian.

On a show I watched this afternoon, an American guy, no less a polygamist, who was falling for another woman realised he was still wearing his wedding ring upon knocking at her door. (Shouldn't he have been wearing 3 of them? One for each of his wives?) He promptly removed it before she answered.

In a later scene, the significance of the ring was discussed at a meeting with fellow polygamists. For most, removing it implied intent to have an affair, to fuck around or to cheat on their wives. Yeah, that's a big cultural difference.

So, why have I decided not to wear the ring any more? Mostly because I need to know how it feels to go without it. It can easily be forgotten, left at home or even lost. Yes, it sure can. And with it a lot of significance.
And how does it feel? A lot like those other situations where I know I shouldn't be so sentimental, lest I feel utterly out of control of my emotions. I've let those be manipulated in the name of trust. And so the trusting begins anew.

The nondescript wait

NokiaAugust026 
Could be I waited for the wrong reasons.
Gave in to the wait with no plan for myself.
Destined myself to getting help in waiting rooms.

P8200071

A cold, wet and windy Sunday

Earlier in the week I'd regretted not enclosing a birthday present fodsc_5401r Xiao Lin in the pricey package of papers I'd sent by courier the week before. I still do. But I had planned to call this  weekend. Most certainly, I would call.

Though as the the weekend drew closer, I felt a hastened distance and sensed an unsettling obfuscation. I wouldn't call it intuition (because there have been too many revelations over the past couple of months and numerous more in recent days) that did not have me call him after all.

The usual, careful refrain from even mentioning Jason's name in passing had become so commonplace that even with baited breath - devoid of teasing - could I eventually elicit some twist of the truth. An account of the birthday party left Jason dangling as an afterthought. Until the startling revelation he'd spent the night and day sleeping (?) alone (?) at Jason's place.  

Despite his first real step to come clean and acknowledge his actions, he chose instead to throw up a flurry of excuseNokiaAugust017s as to why he had to stay at Jason's. Deep down he must have been relieved not to have had to lie again, and so it was spun that he thought that this was what I had wanted. Of course, it is! Anything, but the lies. However, what in fact happened was still not even worth mentioning. One step at a time.

I am hardly upset or at all surprised. I grateful there was no malice in telling me what I'd rather know than not. Everyone wins. Xiao Lin can be more relaxed in Beijing. Jason, too. The summer was - and still is for another month - theirs.  The puzzler: how is it I knew better than to call and disturb him, I mean, them?  That's where I win.