Listening: I'm a failure at heart, but it seems I succeed when my heart feels the need to be helpful. It doesn't happen much and as a result, it's a rare thing.
What's my problem? Not being organized enough
You know in spy movies when a spy is on the run and he needs to make a break for the border? You know how he opens a drawer and pulls out five different passports and several different currencies? Well, I have one passport and several different currencies. Just five minutes ago, I opened up my secret spot that holds several envelopes and pouches. After sifting through the contents, I pulled out my Hong Kong and my Thai currencies for my trip. That's right. I have multiple currencies at hand. Yes, it's true that some of those said currencies no longer hold any value (Czech Krounas), and some countries' currencies hold very little value (Cambodian Riel), but I hold onto them for the hell of it.
I realize that it's not much, but some of these currencies are going to be enough to buy me snacks at airports in Hong Kong and Bangkok, two places that I will probably be going through during this trip (unless I decide to ditch the familiarity of Bangkok for the possibilities of Kuala Lumpur). So, I currently have 210HKD ($27.07 USD) and 220THB ($7.35 USD). See. Small time spy stuff. A real spy would at least have a thousand US dollars of each.
Anyhow, I have almost everything taken care of for my departure. My visa was a bit of an ordeal. See, I went down to New York City on Thursday to submit my passport to get my Chinese visa. I opted for the expedited service so that I could pick it up on Friday so I could come back to Boston on Saturday. It didn't work out so well. See, on the website, I recalled that the office was open from nine in the morning until half past noon, and then again from half past one until five in the evening. So, when they told me to pick the visa up on Friday after two in the afternoon, I thought that it would be fine if I picked it up at three. I didn't bother to look at the claim slip or the paper on the door to the consulate. It clearly stated that the hours were from nine in the morning until half past two in the afternoon. So, when I rolled up at three, the place was locked up tight. BASTARDS! It had already been a bad enough day with me locking my phone in my buddy's apartment and missing the train that would have gotten me into town right on time to meet my other friend for lunch. So, I did go back up to Boston on Saturday and trek back down on Monday to pick up my visa. Eight hours on a bus in one day. I guess it was just training for my flight to China, huh? It's not like I haven't done long haul flights before.
The good part about my trip to New York City was that I went and ate at Fatty Crab. I have to say that this was really kind of like a place that I would want to own and/or work at. It's a tiny joint in the West Village that serves Malaysian inspired food. It was loud, dark and rowdy. The bar had four seats. The rest of the dining room had a cramped thirty-two seats. You could see into the three-man line. They were unabashed by their use of pork and deep frying. They used clay pots. The music was loud and unapologetically contained explicit lyrics. Honestly, I think that Boston needs a place like it. A family joint, it is not. And there should be a place in the restaurant scene for that. Unabashedly adult.
I ordered the crispy fried pork and pickled watermelon salad to start with. It had six or seven one-inch cubes of deep fried pork belly, six or seven one-inch cubes of watermelon, smaller bits of pickled watermelon rind, and a salad of thai basil, cilantro, and scallion on top. I say, "Ga' DAMN! that was a good salad." I followed that up with the Lo Si Fun, which were short rice noodles with chinese sausage and shiitake mushrooms in a really rich sauce. When I say rich, I mean RICH. It was so rich that I wasn't sure if I could finish it. It didn't help that they amused me, mid-coursed me and threw some dessert cake at me. I think everyone gets amused and desserted, but I got a very good mid-course of pickled roasted beets over a spicy mayo. At first, I wasn't so sure about the combination, but by the fourth bite, I was really digging it. And I don't even like beets all that much.
Anyhow, if you're in the NYC, go check out Fatty Crab. It's pretty cool. I almost think that I wasn't hip enough to be eating there. But I would try it anyways.
Well, it's late and I have to spend five hundred dollars on travel insurance tomorrow. It should be a good time. So cheers until next time.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Day 134: Last Sprint
Listening: They say time will make all this go away, but it's time that has taken my tomorrows and turned them into yesterdays. And once again that rising sun is droppin' on down and once again, you, my friend, are nowhere to be found.
What's my problem? Having no idea what it will be like in China.
I have a mere six more days before I make my exodus from this island and another fourteen before I skip the country. I can feel the tension in my shoulders slowly releasing and I feel like I can breathe a little easier.
I've been counting down the days until my exodus from the island for a long time, for almost half the season. I knew pretty quickly that it didn't feel right, but I am a man of my word and a man of commitment. So, I stayed. As I talk about leaving with glee, one of my friends seems disappointed in me. She loves the island. And, though she doesn't want to stay for the isolated, cold winters, she believes the simpler life is for her.
We had a brief conversation last night as we walked to a bar. I said that of the few things that I will miss about the island, one of them is the incredible view of the stars. She said that Nantucket was a beautiful place. And, to that, I said that a place can be beautiful and not for you at the same time. That's what this place is. It's beautiful and not for me at the same time. It's a place I would come to for a weekend to hang out at a beach and have a nice dinner, but I would never live here again unless something drastically changed in me. Nantucket, much like Lyon, France, was a beautiful place, but it just didn't sit well with me. It wasn't a place I wanted to spend much more than one single night.
The schedule of my life over the next couple of weeks is pretty rapid fire. This weekend is Hogtoberfest at American Seasons, which should be even more amazing than last year. Whole roasted pig's heads on the tables and charcuterie up the whazoo. Tuesday, one of my best friends will be picking me up from the ferry. Hopefully, I'll get to see his new digs and maybe his new pup. Wednesday is another one of my friends' birthday. Hopefully I'll get to buy her a drink or a plate of pig tails. Thursday, I'll be heading to NYC to apply for and hopefully receive my expedited visa to get into China. I'll be down there for a couple of days, hopefully having dinner with some friends and just relaxing. I think I'll be catching a ride back to Boston with a friend of mine, so I can go to the 10-course Dante's Inferno dinner on Sunday with a few friends. Between then and November first, I'll be preparing for my trip to China.
I don't have a whole lot left to do for the trip. I have to book my first few nights of hotel in Shanghai so I can adjust to the time zone without the potentially crazy backpackers. I also have to buy my travel insurance. As far as gear goes, I think I only need to buy a new headlamp and maybe a few new pairs of socks.
The tough part for me will be the actual packing. I'll have to pack for my trip around China in late fall where it might get chilly and maybe a couple of weeks in southeast Asia where it might get steamy (the way I like it) all in my backpack. Then, I will need a separate suitcase for my time in San Francisco and Vancouver for the holidays, where it will be downright cold and I will also need some dressy options. I'll be leaving the nicer stuff in my suitcase in San Francisco while I'm in China, but it really will be hell trying to decide what's going where with me. As always, everything that I take with me abroad needs to be relatively quick-drying, and it can't be anything I would cry about losing or ruining while I'm on the trail.
The new addition to the pack this time around will be a netbook. I was thinking about buying a netbook to bring with me just in case the great firewall of China blocks me out of my blog and my photo storage site. The thing is that when I get back home, I'll never use the netbook again, because I'm a Mac guy. When it came to light that my brother was looking to purchase a netbook, the plan came together. He would buy the netbook, I would pay for some of it and I would use it until I got home and hand it off to him. It's a great arrangement. If something happens to the netbook on the trail, I just owe him the money for it. I'll be able to keep a great record of my trip and it'll be small and light enough for me to carry around.
So for right now I'm looking at travel insurance, Shanghai hotels, and maybe a few cooking classes in China. There's a culinary tour in Xi'an for $60 (roughly) which takes you around the Muslim quarter and introduces you to the Chinese Muslim (Hui) cuisine. There are also a few different classes that I have found in Shanghai as well. I really want to take a more intense course, though. The questions are is these types of classes are offered, how much they cost, and if I can afford the time.
Something else I'm really excited about is that if I end up going back to Thailand where it will be warm, I'm planning on going to Wat Bang Phra, a Buddhist temple where they do old school Buddhist tattoos of protection. I feel that these days more than in the past, I could use a bit more protection. It would be a really cool experience to get the tattoo in the traditional bamboo needle. I'll probably get one either on the back of one of my shoulders like the one that Angelina Jolie has. I think that the other place I would consider getting it would be on my calf or my left forearm. It'll have to be one of the last things that I do in Thailand though, if I want to hang out at the beach. See, you can't really go in the ocean if you have a fresh tat. If I'm in Thailand I will most definitely be taking a dip in the crystal blue water and hanging out on the soft white sand.
It's funny. Last time I talked to my mother, she said that she thinks that I should plan a family vacation for the four of us. When I think about doing it, I know that there's no way it would ever happen. Between the facts that my father likes his concierge, and I like hostels with bars with cheap beer and people doing things on a shoestring, I don't think the accommodations would ever line up. My parents like things to be relatively planned out, to be like cattle led from one grazing area to another, whereas I like being able to dip at the drop of a dime. I left Hue, Vietnam a whole lot earlier than I thought I would. The same thing with Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I also like that I stayed longer in Hoi An, Vietnam and Cinque Terre, Italy. When you're with three other people, you don't get that freedom. And I don't think that my parents would buy the whole, "I'm going ahead... I'll meet you in the third city on the trail in a week...." thing. Four people means that four people have to have their bladders synchronized, their food desires coinciding, and their interests catered to. It's almost impossible to do that with one other person, to spend an entire backpacking trip with another person for more than a week and not take time off. Forget the fact that they'd have to carry their luggage on their back and wash their clothes in sinks. So, yeah, I don't see it happening.
Anyhow, I have to go. It's my last night off on the island and it's also prime rib night at Kitty Murtaugh's. I love me some prime rib.
What's my problem? Having no idea what it will be like in China.
I have a mere six more days before I make my exodus from this island and another fourteen before I skip the country. I can feel the tension in my shoulders slowly releasing and I feel like I can breathe a little easier.
I've been counting down the days until my exodus from the island for a long time, for almost half the season. I knew pretty quickly that it didn't feel right, but I am a man of my word and a man of commitment. So, I stayed. As I talk about leaving with glee, one of my friends seems disappointed in me. She loves the island. And, though she doesn't want to stay for the isolated, cold winters, she believes the simpler life is for her.
We had a brief conversation last night as we walked to a bar. I said that of the few things that I will miss about the island, one of them is the incredible view of the stars. She said that Nantucket was a beautiful place. And, to that, I said that a place can be beautiful and not for you at the same time. That's what this place is. It's beautiful and not for me at the same time. It's a place I would come to for a weekend to hang out at a beach and have a nice dinner, but I would never live here again unless something drastically changed in me. Nantucket, much like Lyon, France, was a beautiful place, but it just didn't sit well with me. It wasn't a place I wanted to spend much more than one single night.
The schedule of my life over the next couple of weeks is pretty rapid fire. This weekend is Hogtoberfest at American Seasons, which should be even more amazing than last year. Whole roasted pig's heads on the tables and charcuterie up the whazoo. Tuesday, one of my best friends will be picking me up from the ferry. Hopefully, I'll get to see his new digs and maybe his new pup. Wednesday is another one of my friends' birthday. Hopefully I'll get to buy her a drink or a plate of pig tails. Thursday, I'll be heading to NYC to apply for and hopefully receive my expedited visa to get into China. I'll be down there for a couple of days, hopefully having dinner with some friends and just relaxing. I think I'll be catching a ride back to Boston with a friend of mine, so I can go to the 10-course Dante's Inferno dinner on Sunday with a few friends. Between then and November first, I'll be preparing for my trip to China.
I don't have a whole lot left to do for the trip. I have to book my first few nights of hotel in Shanghai so I can adjust to the time zone without the potentially crazy backpackers. I also have to buy my travel insurance. As far as gear goes, I think I only need to buy a new headlamp and maybe a few new pairs of socks.
The tough part for me will be the actual packing. I'll have to pack for my trip around China in late fall where it might get chilly and maybe a couple of weeks in southeast Asia where it might get steamy (the way I like it) all in my backpack. Then, I will need a separate suitcase for my time in San Francisco and Vancouver for the holidays, where it will be downright cold and I will also need some dressy options. I'll be leaving the nicer stuff in my suitcase in San Francisco while I'm in China, but it really will be hell trying to decide what's going where with me. As always, everything that I take with me abroad needs to be relatively quick-drying, and it can't be anything I would cry about losing or ruining while I'm on the trail.
The new addition to the pack this time around will be a netbook. I was thinking about buying a netbook to bring with me just in case the great firewall of China blocks me out of my blog and my photo storage site. The thing is that when I get back home, I'll never use the netbook again, because I'm a Mac guy. When it came to light that my brother was looking to purchase a netbook, the plan came together. He would buy the netbook, I would pay for some of it and I would use it until I got home and hand it off to him. It's a great arrangement. If something happens to the netbook on the trail, I just owe him the money for it. I'll be able to keep a great record of my trip and it'll be small and light enough for me to carry around.
So for right now I'm looking at travel insurance, Shanghai hotels, and maybe a few cooking classes in China. There's a culinary tour in Xi'an for $60 (roughly) which takes you around the Muslim quarter and introduces you to the Chinese Muslim (Hui) cuisine. There are also a few different classes that I have found in Shanghai as well. I really want to take a more intense course, though. The questions are is these types of classes are offered, how much they cost, and if I can afford the time.
Something else I'm really excited about is that if I end up going back to Thailand where it will be warm, I'm planning on going to Wat Bang Phra, a Buddhist temple where they do old school Buddhist tattoos of protection. I feel that these days more than in the past, I could use a bit more protection. It would be a really cool experience to get the tattoo in the traditional bamboo needle. I'll probably get one either on the back of one of my shoulders like the one that Angelina Jolie has. I think that the other place I would consider getting it would be on my calf or my left forearm. It'll have to be one of the last things that I do in Thailand though, if I want to hang out at the beach. See, you can't really go in the ocean if you have a fresh tat. If I'm in Thailand I will most definitely be taking a dip in the crystal blue water and hanging out on the soft white sand.
It's funny. Last time I talked to my mother, she said that she thinks that I should plan a family vacation for the four of us. When I think about doing it, I know that there's no way it would ever happen. Between the facts that my father likes his concierge, and I like hostels with bars with cheap beer and people doing things on a shoestring, I don't think the accommodations would ever line up. My parents like things to be relatively planned out, to be like cattle led from one grazing area to another, whereas I like being able to dip at the drop of a dime. I left Hue, Vietnam a whole lot earlier than I thought I would. The same thing with Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I also like that I stayed longer in Hoi An, Vietnam and Cinque Terre, Italy. When you're with three other people, you don't get that freedom. And I don't think that my parents would buy the whole, "I'm going ahead... I'll meet you in the third city on the trail in a week...." thing. Four people means that four people have to have their bladders synchronized, their food desires coinciding, and their interests catered to. It's almost impossible to do that with one other person, to spend an entire backpacking trip with another person for more than a week and not take time off. Forget the fact that they'd have to carry their luggage on their back and wash their clothes in sinks. So, yeah, I don't see it happening.
Anyhow, I have to go. It's my last night off on the island and it's also prime rib night at Kitty Murtaugh's. I love me some prime rib.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Day 83: Estimates
Listening: It's like the more money we come across, the more problems we see.
What's my problem? Taking stock of potential expenses...
Flight Boston-San Fran/Jose RT: Delta Dollars=FREE!
Flight San Fran-Shanghai, Hong Kong-San Fran: $900
Flight Hong Kong-Bangkok RT: $200
Hostel/Hotel for 49 nights: (Avg $30/night) $1470
Food for 49 days: (Avg $25/day) $1225
General train/bus travel in-country: $750
Flight San Fran/Jose-Seattle: $250
Bus Seattle-Vancouver, B.C. RT: $55
--------------
Minimum Total: $4850
*OUCH*
What's my problem? Taking stock of potential expenses...
Flight Boston-San Fran/Jose RT: Delta Dollars=FREE!
Flight San Fran-Shanghai, Hong Kong-San Fran: $900
Flight Hong Kong-Bangkok RT: $200
Hostel/Hotel for 49 nights: (Avg $30/night) $1470
Food for 49 days: (Avg $25/day) $1225
General train/bus travel in-country: $750
Flight San Fran/Jose-Seattle: $250
Bus Seattle-Vancouver, B.C. RT: $55
--------------
Minimum Total: $4850
*OUCH*
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Day 72: Need.
Listening: I saw her today at a reception. A glass of wine in her hand. I knew she would meet her connection. At her feet was her footloose man.
What's my problem? 200+ covers even on Mondays
Just a quick note. Maybe a longer one down the line. Sometimes, when it's been raining for the past three days off that you've had and you're not talking to anyone outside of your place of business and you're not stimulated intellectually, the world throws you what you need.
This morning, I woke up earlier than normal. I ran some errands. I was supposed to have breakfast with my pal, but he didn't respond to my text in time. So I went to Black Eyed Susan's on my own instead.
There was a pretty sizable crowd outside the joint. It is the apex of the season, and the people wandering around the streets are enough to make me go bonkers. But, as a solo diner, I was able to secure a seat at the bar rather quickly.
I was seated next to this other solo diner who struck up a conversation when she saw that I was reading a book about Bangkok. From there, the conversation just flowed. It was a solid intellectual conversation, probably my first in months. It was nice to just connect with a real person, if only for a couple of hours while we drank our coffee and nibbled on our scrambles.
It was a complete breath of fresh air. I wish I could find more like her on the island. Unfortunately, she's really only here for a week, though she owned a bike shop on the island for 12 or 14 years.
It would be nice to find more like her. Maybe I just need to find more solo diners. Where I would find them on a vacation island, I have no idea. See if they're reading a book and comment on it. Never know when someone's going take your mind off of tomorrow and put you in a good place in the present.
What's my problem? 200+ covers even on Mondays
Just a quick note. Maybe a longer one down the line. Sometimes, when it's been raining for the past three days off that you've had and you're not talking to anyone outside of your place of business and you're not stimulated intellectually, the world throws you what you need.
This morning, I woke up earlier than normal. I ran some errands. I was supposed to have breakfast with my pal, but he didn't respond to my text in time. So I went to Black Eyed Susan's on my own instead.
There was a pretty sizable crowd outside the joint. It is the apex of the season, and the people wandering around the streets are enough to make me go bonkers. But, as a solo diner, I was able to secure a seat at the bar rather quickly.
I was seated next to this other solo diner who struck up a conversation when she saw that I was reading a book about Bangkok. From there, the conversation just flowed. It was a solid intellectual conversation, probably my first in months. It was nice to just connect with a real person, if only for a couple of hours while we drank our coffee and nibbled on our scrambles.
It was a complete breath of fresh air. I wish I could find more like her on the island. Unfortunately, she's really only here for a week, though she owned a bike shop on the island for 12 or 14 years.
It would be nice to find more like her. Maybe I just need to find more solo diners. Where I would find them on a vacation island, I have no idea. See if they're reading a book and comment on it. Never know when someone's going take your mind off of tomorrow and put you in a good place in the present.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Day 65: Fit.
Listening: I’m getting weary waiting for the harbor lights to change. I’ve forgotten what I do it for but I tread water just the same.
What's my problem? I'm a bit of a square peg.
When I was six, I moved from outside of Boston to the suburbs of St. Louis. In St. Louis, I was the new Asian kid. I didn't fit in very well or find myself well-liked by the masses. When I was twelve, I went to a new school. It was a Catholic school. I was a devout Athiest. From there, I moved to Chicago and I was exposed to this whole multicultural world that I had never been exposed to. In Chicago, I had friends in all sorts of cliques, but I don't think I really ever belonged to any of them. After being there for five years, I became a city kid. And what did that city kid do? He went to a college in rural Maine. So I was the city kid in the rural college. I was also the kid who liked house music. I wasn't the kid who was jammin' on Phish or Dave Matthews Band. I came out of college with an English degree, and not so promptly got a job as a mutual fund accountant. I wasn't exactly the model of the accountant. I could get the job done though, and I hated doing it. When I finally got my head out of my ass and quit the day job to become a cook, I was finally doing what I loved and I was hanging out with people I wanted to hang out with. However I was still the cook who was a white collar worker. Now I'm a cook on an island full of rich people. In a kitchen where I fit but I don't.
The whole point of that bit of exposition is just to show you how I have never felt like I've belonged anywhere that I've been really. I think that the only places that I really have felt that I have belong were in hostels as I have been traveling. It just dawned on me that the reason I felt like I belonged there was because I was in a place full of other people who didn't really belong where they were. We were all people from different parts of the world who were in one place that wasn't home. We all belonged as people who didn't belong. Epiphany.
Sometimes I just want somewhere that I'm supposed to be. I want to feel like I belong somewhere. I don't feel like I fit anywhere. Sometimes it kills me. I want some full time cohorts. A mob. A gang. Even if just like Mao, a gang of four. It's tough being at the age I'm at and doing what I'm doing. Many of my friends are making bank and are settling down with marriages, houses and kids. Sometimes they say to me that they're envious of the life I live, cooking for a living and traveling the globe. Don't get me wrong. I love traveling the globe and I enjoy cooking. The money isn't great though and the security is even worse. The hours are so bad that the only people you meet are the people you work with or the people at other restaurants.
I like multi-dimensional people. I'm not saying that restaurant people aren't multi-dimensional, but if you get a bunch of us in the room together, the only things we talk about are restaurants, food, how much we drank or who we fucked and we got them to do. Even if two restaurant workers went to the same foreign country, they'll only talk about it for five minutes before it comes back to food, booze and fucking. I want to hang out more with people who bring other things to the table, and sometimes foray into the arena of food, booze and fucking. I want people who talk about books and far off places. I want to be down with people who want to talk about technology and agriculture (from here on out to be referred to as T&A). I want to talk with people who have different views on what art is, what's good for the body and good for the mind.
So, I'm looking forward to getting out again. China, China, China. I have already e-mailed my friend Isa in Shanghai and my friends Candy and Simon in Hong Kong, who I visited last time I was in Hong Kong. I've bought a Rough Guide book for China and have started researching on the internet whenever I get a chance to. I know that I'll be starting in Shanghai and I'll be going to Guangzhou. Suzhou is so close to Shanghai that I'll have to take a trip out there. What I'm debating is whether I try to get up to Xian to see the terra cotta warriors, or whether I should try to get up to Beijing, or whether I should stick to the southeast and then head back into Vietnam and Thailand where it'll be warmer. Really, I'm just looking forward to belonging where I don't belong again.
A bit about guidebooks... Frommer's sucks. Fodor's sucks. Both have their information really shoddily put together. It doesn't tell you really much at all about the cities or what besides the few touristy things there are to see. They're much more geared to the people who want to be spending $100+ for a hotel room every night. The Frommer's China book that I got from the library has the most awful maps as well. There is no scale as far as how far things are from each other and how long it takes to get from point A to point B. It just blows all of the way around.
Lonely Planet is, generally, a good guidebook. The problem with Lonely Planet is that everyone and their mother has the Lonely Planet guide to wherever from here to Timbuktu. This means that any hostel that's in it is going to be 90% booked up, and the prices will be much higher than in the book. The same goes for any restaurant in it as well. That's why I decided to go with the Rough Guide. If I really want to get the Lonely Planet (who by the way has EXCELLENT maps), I'm pretty sure I'll be able to find a knockoff copy of it somewhere along the way, or even just pick up one that someone has left at a hostel. I have looked at a few different Rough Guides and they have good information that's well organized, good maps and it's not just the touristy things.
I can't wait to book my airline tickets. Once I do that I REALLY know I'm going. I'm sure I'll book them sometime in September or maybe in October. I got me some time.
So, today I got a text message from the world's best ex-roomie, who sent me a package of treats and some DVDs to pass the time with. She said I should join Facebook finally. I'm still giving some thought to it. For a long time I have been adamantly against it. I don't know what Facebook would really do for me. Most people know where I am and what I'm doing. But, increasingly, other people are using it to tell other people where they are and what they're doing. Should I join and make it "easy" on myself, or should I fight the fight and fight for my friendships? I mean, if they're not connected to you outside of cyberspace, why should they be connected to you IN cyberspace? I have no idea the answer to this question. All I know is that I can't really think of any of my friends who AREN'T on Facebook. And it's not like I'd be posting pictures of me scantily clad taking hits from a beer bong and improperly fondling a senator's daughter. But who would be my "Facebook friends?" My real friends? People I met during my travels? Cooks? To join or not to join... Next thing you know I'll be twittering my face off about how I haven't shaved in a week and my face is itching. No one wants to know that shit.
Anyhow, I've been at the coffee house ALL DAY LONG, as it has been raining, yet again, on my day off. The woman at the counter just called her daughter "princess." I think she's setting her daughter up for massive disappointment or an ego that no one wants to deal with. Irresponsible parenting. I'm going to look at some airfares before I bounce out of here. The place is about to close anyways.
What's my problem? I'm a bit of a square peg.
When I was six, I moved from outside of Boston to the suburbs of St. Louis. In St. Louis, I was the new Asian kid. I didn't fit in very well or find myself well-liked by the masses. When I was twelve, I went to a new school. It was a Catholic school. I was a devout Athiest. From there, I moved to Chicago and I was exposed to this whole multicultural world that I had never been exposed to. In Chicago, I had friends in all sorts of cliques, but I don't think I really ever belonged to any of them. After being there for five years, I became a city kid. And what did that city kid do? He went to a college in rural Maine. So I was the city kid in the rural college. I was also the kid who liked house music. I wasn't the kid who was jammin' on Phish or Dave Matthews Band. I came out of college with an English degree, and not so promptly got a job as a mutual fund accountant. I wasn't exactly the model of the accountant. I could get the job done though, and I hated doing it. When I finally got my head out of my ass and quit the day job to become a cook, I was finally doing what I loved and I was hanging out with people I wanted to hang out with. However I was still the cook who was a white collar worker. Now I'm a cook on an island full of rich people. In a kitchen where I fit but I don't.
The whole point of that bit of exposition is just to show you how I have never felt like I've belonged anywhere that I've been really. I think that the only places that I really have felt that I have belong were in hostels as I have been traveling. It just dawned on me that the reason I felt like I belonged there was because I was in a place full of other people who didn't really belong where they were. We were all people from different parts of the world who were in one place that wasn't home. We all belonged as people who didn't belong. Epiphany.
Sometimes I just want somewhere that I'm supposed to be. I want to feel like I belong somewhere. I don't feel like I fit anywhere. Sometimes it kills me. I want some full time cohorts. A mob. A gang. Even if just like Mao, a gang of four. It's tough being at the age I'm at and doing what I'm doing. Many of my friends are making bank and are settling down with marriages, houses and kids. Sometimes they say to me that they're envious of the life I live, cooking for a living and traveling the globe. Don't get me wrong. I love traveling the globe and I enjoy cooking. The money isn't great though and the security is even worse. The hours are so bad that the only people you meet are the people you work with or the people at other restaurants.
I like multi-dimensional people. I'm not saying that restaurant people aren't multi-dimensional, but if you get a bunch of us in the room together, the only things we talk about are restaurants, food, how much we drank or who we fucked and we got them to do. Even if two restaurant workers went to the same foreign country, they'll only talk about it for five minutes before it comes back to food, booze and fucking. I want to hang out more with people who bring other things to the table, and sometimes foray into the arena of food, booze and fucking. I want people who talk about books and far off places. I want to be down with people who want to talk about technology and agriculture (from here on out to be referred to as T&A). I want to talk with people who have different views on what art is, what's good for the body and good for the mind.
So, I'm looking forward to getting out again. China, China, China. I have already e-mailed my friend Isa in Shanghai and my friends Candy and Simon in Hong Kong, who I visited last time I was in Hong Kong. I've bought a Rough Guide book for China and have started researching on the internet whenever I get a chance to. I know that I'll be starting in Shanghai and I'll be going to Guangzhou. Suzhou is so close to Shanghai that I'll have to take a trip out there. What I'm debating is whether I try to get up to Xian to see the terra cotta warriors, or whether I should try to get up to Beijing, or whether I should stick to the southeast and then head back into Vietnam and Thailand where it'll be warmer. Really, I'm just looking forward to belonging where I don't belong again.
A bit about guidebooks... Frommer's sucks. Fodor's sucks. Both have their information really shoddily put together. It doesn't tell you really much at all about the cities or what besides the few touristy things there are to see. They're much more geared to the people who want to be spending $100+ for a hotel room every night. The Frommer's China book that I got from the library has the most awful maps as well. There is no scale as far as how far things are from each other and how long it takes to get from point A to point B. It just blows all of the way around.
Lonely Planet is, generally, a good guidebook. The problem with Lonely Planet is that everyone and their mother has the Lonely Planet guide to wherever from here to Timbuktu. This means that any hostel that's in it is going to be 90% booked up, and the prices will be much higher than in the book. The same goes for any restaurant in it as well. That's why I decided to go with the Rough Guide. If I really want to get the Lonely Planet (who by the way has EXCELLENT maps), I'm pretty sure I'll be able to find a knockoff copy of it somewhere along the way, or even just pick up one that someone has left at a hostel. I have looked at a few different Rough Guides and they have good information that's well organized, good maps and it's not just the touristy things.
I can't wait to book my airline tickets. Once I do that I REALLY know I'm going. I'm sure I'll book them sometime in September or maybe in October. I got me some time.
So, today I got a text message from the world's best ex-roomie, who sent me a package of treats and some DVDs to pass the time with. She said I should join Facebook finally. I'm still giving some thought to it. For a long time I have been adamantly against it. I don't know what Facebook would really do for me. Most people know where I am and what I'm doing. But, increasingly, other people are using it to tell other people where they are and what they're doing. Should I join and make it "easy" on myself, or should I fight the fight and fight for my friendships? I mean, if they're not connected to you outside of cyberspace, why should they be connected to you IN cyberspace? I have no idea the answer to this question. All I know is that I can't really think of any of my friends who AREN'T on Facebook. And it's not like I'd be posting pictures of me scantily clad taking hits from a beer bong and improperly fondling a senator's daughter. But who would be my "Facebook friends?" My real friends? People I met during my travels? Cooks? To join or not to join... Next thing you know I'll be twittering my face off about how I haven't shaved in a week and my face is itching. No one wants to know that shit.
Anyhow, I've been at the coffee house ALL DAY LONG, as it has been raining, yet again, on my day off. The woman at the counter just called her daughter "princess." I think she's setting her daughter up for massive disappointment or an ego that no one wants to deal with. Irresponsible parenting. I'm going to look at some airfares before I bounce out of here. The place is about to close anyways.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Day 58: Security
Listening: On a different day, if I was safe in my own skin, then I wouldn't feel so lost and so frightened. But this is today and I'm lost in my own skin. And I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore.
What's my problem? I don't know where I'm going or how I'm going to get there.
Fifty eight days on the island. A third season. I really thought it would be better this year, but not so much. It's not to say that it's as bad as the place I was in Cambridge, but it's certainly not going as well as I would have hoped.
I think my winter in Cambridge shook my soul a little bit and I haven't quite recovered. It doesn't help that there's much more of an insider/outsider vibe in the kitchen this season, of which I'm on the cusp at best. Add onto that I'm not cooking my best for some reason and it becomes a pretty stressful workday.
Socially, well, I'm not all that social. I've been pocketing ninety percent of my take, doing my best to spend as little as possible. I have very limited internet access and no television. So I end up watching movies on my computer or reading. I've been reading so much that I've finished five of the seven books that I brought down to the island with me. For a while I was going through a book a week. If this continues, I'll have to be purchasing some new reading material.
Anyhow, lately I've been down a little bit thinking about my future. See, my parents are so paranoid about the future that they have passed part of it onto me to the point where sometimes I can't enjoy now because I'm too busy worrying about my future. I despise this. The only time I can really let go of it is when I'm traveling. I think that this is because when I'm traveling, the future is in such small increments of time. Where will I go tomorrow? Will I pick up and leave or will I stay another day? Should I push back my flight? I don't have to worry about my next paycheck or how I'm going to pay for my Depends when I'm old. I just have to worry about where I'm going to lay my head and what should I stuff my face with.
But I have been thinking lately.... I've been thinking about actually starting my life. How am I going to do it? What will I be doing? Where will I be? Who will I be with? How will I afford it? It sucks and I don't want to think about it. Furthermore, I have been wondering if I am, in fact, talented enough to achieve any of my potential dreams. And even if I am talented enough, will other people think I'm talented enough? How will I be able to pay to get myself off the ground?
Sometimes thinking about all of this makes it hard to keep the faith or believe in anything. Do you stay the course and potentially end up alone, broke and forgotten, or do you suck on the shotgun that is my parents' way of thinking of sell-outing-ness and security with a bland life? The ideas of either sickens me to the pit of my stomach. It makes me want to suck on the non-figurative shotgun at times (but we won't be doing that... the taste is too minerally, I'm guessing).
What do I do? What do I do?
Since I haven't really been able to find what I'm looking for in Boston, and certainly not on the island, I have been thinking about moving cities. The short list right now is San Francisco, Chicago, Portland and Seattle, mostly in that order. I can't say if I'll find what I'm looking for in any of those places, but I know that right now, Boston isn't working for me. Actually, ideally, I would be working outside of the country. How I would do that? I don't know.
Maybe I just need to go. They say that "Necessity is the mother of invention." Maybe I need to go and I need to feed myself, therefore I will find a job. If that were to happen, I know my parents would be freaking the fuck out. But the question, I would pose to them (and I am in a sense, because I know they read this) is would you rather have a child that is out there trying to make it happen, or a child who is sedentary and who wants to suck on the aforementioned shotgun? I just want to enjoy my life, including the times in between travel itineraries. But the eternal question, yet again, how will I afford those Depends?
On a subject that won't lead back to adult diapers, a number of people have told me that I should write a book. To that, I have told them that I wouldn't know what I would want to write about. I've been thinking about writing a book about leaving... leaving towns, cities, jobs, people, ideals.... That's my current thought. I even have an idea of an introduction which would summarize why they shouldn't listen to me about anything and who they should listen to. Maybe I'll start working on that.
Right now, I'm getting kicked out of the coffee shop. So, no more internet for me. Hope you enjoyed this foray back into blogging.
What's my problem? I don't know where I'm going or how I'm going to get there.
Fifty eight days on the island. A third season. I really thought it would be better this year, but not so much. It's not to say that it's as bad as the place I was in Cambridge, but it's certainly not going as well as I would have hoped.
I think my winter in Cambridge shook my soul a little bit and I haven't quite recovered. It doesn't help that there's much more of an insider/outsider vibe in the kitchen this season, of which I'm on the cusp at best. Add onto that I'm not cooking my best for some reason and it becomes a pretty stressful workday.
Socially, well, I'm not all that social. I've been pocketing ninety percent of my take, doing my best to spend as little as possible. I have very limited internet access and no television. So I end up watching movies on my computer or reading. I've been reading so much that I've finished five of the seven books that I brought down to the island with me. For a while I was going through a book a week. If this continues, I'll have to be purchasing some new reading material.
Anyhow, lately I've been down a little bit thinking about my future. See, my parents are so paranoid about the future that they have passed part of it onto me to the point where sometimes I can't enjoy now because I'm too busy worrying about my future. I despise this. The only time I can really let go of it is when I'm traveling. I think that this is because when I'm traveling, the future is in such small increments of time. Where will I go tomorrow? Will I pick up and leave or will I stay another day? Should I push back my flight? I don't have to worry about my next paycheck or how I'm going to pay for my Depends when I'm old. I just have to worry about where I'm going to lay my head and what should I stuff my face with.
But I have been thinking lately.... I've been thinking about actually starting my life. How am I going to do it? What will I be doing? Where will I be? Who will I be with? How will I afford it? It sucks and I don't want to think about it. Furthermore, I have been wondering if I am, in fact, talented enough to achieve any of my potential dreams. And even if I am talented enough, will other people think I'm talented enough? How will I be able to pay to get myself off the ground?
Sometimes thinking about all of this makes it hard to keep the faith or believe in anything. Do you stay the course and potentially end up alone, broke and forgotten, or do you suck on the shotgun that is my parents' way of thinking of sell-outing-ness and security with a bland life? The ideas of either sickens me to the pit of my stomach. It makes me want to suck on the non-figurative shotgun at times (but we won't be doing that... the taste is too minerally, I'm guessing).
What do I do? What do I do?
Since I haven't really been able to find what I'm looking for in Boston, and certainly not on the island, I have been thinking about moving cities. The short list right now is San Francisco, Chicago, Portland and Seattle, mostly in that order. I can't say if I'll find what I'm looking for in any of those places, but I know that right now, Boston isn't working for me. Actually, ideally, I would be working outside of the country. How I would do that? I don't know.
Maybe I just need to go. They say that "Necessity is the mother of invention." Maybe I need to go and I need to feed myself, therefore I will find a job. If that were to happen, I know my parents would be freaking the fuck out. But the question, I would pose to them (and I am in a sense, because I know they read this) is would you rather have a child that is out there trying to make it happen, or a child who is sedentary and who wants to suck on the aforementioned shotgun? I just want to enjoy my life, including the times in between travel itineraries. But the eternal question, yet again, how will I afford those Depends?
On a subject that won't lead back to adult diapers, a number of people have told me that I should write a book. To that, I have told them that I wouldn't know what I would want to write about. I've been thinking about writing a book about leaving... leaving towns, cities, jobs, people, ideals.... That's my current thought. I even have an idea of an introduction which would summarize why they shouldn't listen to me about anything and who they should listen to. Maybe I'll start working on that.
Right now, I'm getting kicked out of the coffee shop. So, no more internet for me. Hope you enjoyed this foray back into blogging.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Day 7: Yeah... Barely Been Here A Week
Listening: I guess there's got to be a break in the monotony, but, Jesus, when it rains how it pours.
Throw on your clothes, the second side of Surfer Rosa, and you leave me. Yeah, you leave me.
What's my problem? Going through internet withdraw.
Just like on Lost I haplessly got marooned on an island. After being there for a good amount of time and weird stuff, I get off the island. Just when I think my life might return to normal, I have to willfully go back to the island.
So, here I am. Back on the island.
I'm back working on The People's Republic of Nantucket after an attempt to get back to working in America. I had every intention of staying at the job I started in January. I believed in the project, but found myself not being believed in and also not having respect for some of the workers. I was frustrated and disappointed. I dreaded waking up to go to work in the morning. I found myself wanting to stab my sous chef. I ran the image in my mind over and over, much like one of those delusions that Ally McBeal used to have.
When I arrived on the island, I was welcomed with warm hugs and high fives. It's really quite touching knowing that so many people are excited to work with me and see me again. The even better thing about the staff where I'm working is that there are only two new people in the kitchen (we have six people who are staples or repeat offenders), and there is only one new person in the front of the house (there are eleven staples/repeat offenders). All of them were psyched to see me. I can't even count the number of squealing "OH MY GOD"s I got over the past week.
Unlike the past couple of seasons, I'm not living in the staff housing above the restaurant. Instead, I am living on my own in the cottage behind the restaurant. I have to say that it's nice having my own space. Sometimes I wish I had someone living with me too, but I definitely don't miss sharing a room with another cook.
The downside to this is that there's no internet in the back cottage. The guys upstairs are stealing internet off of someone around the neighborhood, but due to the fact that the cottage is directly behind the walk-in refridgerator and at ground level, I don't get any wireless signal. They're thinking about getting internet upstairs, so I might be able to get a signal from them, but there's no guarantee.
Anyhow, I have to go back downstairs now. I have my first day off on Thursday. As it has been over the past couple of seasons, it's supposed to rain. To make it even better, the movie playing at the movie theater that night is going to be Sex In The City II. Yeah. Like I'll be going to see that. The good thing is that I'll probably just stay home or go to the coffee house. I plan on putting a rod in the closet of the cottage so I can hang my clothes. But other than that It's just reading and writing. It should be a good time. Maybe I'll make some use out of my Nantucket library card. They're almost as good as Netflix, and they're cheaper.
Anyhow, off to bed.
Throw on your clothes, the second side of Surfer Rosa, and you leave me. Yeah, you leave me.
What's my problem? Going through internet withdraw.
Just like on Lost I haplessly got marooned on an island. After being there for a good amount of time and weird stuff, I get off the island. Just when I think my life might return to normal, I have to willfully go back to the island.
So, here I am. Back on the island.
I'm back working on The People's Republic of Nantucket after an attempt to get back to working in America. I had every intention of staying at the job I started in January. I believed in the project, but found myself not being believed in and also not having respect for some of the workers. I was frustrated and disappointed. I dreaded waking up to go to work in the morning. I found myself wanting to stab my sous chef. I ran the image in my mind over and over, much like one of those delusions that Ally McBeal used to have.
When I arrived on the island, I was welcomed with warm hugs and high fives. It's really quite touching knowing that so many people are excited to work with me and see me again. The even better thing about the staff where I'm working is that there are only two new people in the kitchen (we have six people who are staples or repeat offenders), and there is only one new person in the front of the house (there are eleven staples/repeat offenders). All of them were psyched to see me. I can't even count the number of squealing "OH MY GOD"s I got over the past week.
Unlike the past couple of seasons, I'm not living in the staff housing above the restaurant. Instead, I am living on my own in the cottage behind the restaurant. I have to say that it's nice having my own space. Sometimes I wish I had someone living with me too, but I definitely don't miss sharing a room with another cook.
The downside to this is that there's no internet in the back cottage. The guys upstairs are stealing internet off of someone around the neighborhood, but due to the fact that the cottage is directly behind the walk-in refridgerator and at ground level, I don't get any wireless signal. They're thinking about getting internet upstairs, so I might be able to get a signal from them, but there's no guarantee.
Anyhow, I have to go back downstairs now. I have my first day off on Thursday. As it has been over the past couple of seasons, it's supposed to rain. To make it even better, the movie playing at the movie theater that night is going to be Sex In The City II. Yeah. Like I'll be going to see that. The good thing is that I'll probably just stay home or go to the coffee house. I plan on putting a rod in the closet of the cottage so I can hang my clothes. But other than that It's just reading and writing. It should be a good time. Maybe I'll make some use out of my Nantucket library card. They're almost as good as Netflix, and they're cheaper.
Anyhow, off to bed.
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