The weather was cold in China. Coming from Guangzhou this afternoon, I felt a bit of satisfaction.
You see, not often do you get to be in a presentation where grapes and tomatoes are served to your delight and cameras flashing while presentation.
They were an array of Chinese soldiers paying attention to the presentation that we call design intelligence. I was dressed. I was dressed well, too well I think. I found my presentation not in the best format i hoped it would be. I had to improvise and I did. It worked. At least that one did.
Not like last weekend in Stanley beach.
The water was cold. I nearly drowned. Well, that being not entirely correct, I actually nearly drowned twice. "Gay man drowned in Stanley", now that would have been a headline - at least in Volume it will. I didnt have flashbacks, nor did i experience fear. The first thing that came to my mind were my pairs of shoes.
But it was not my time, for I found myself in Macau hours later enjoying Zaia, Cirque du Soleil's latest offering, fulfilling a promise, given to someone worthy of my true love and devotion.
Did i say i was immensely busy with work too?
I hated the jugglers in that show. They dropped things when they're not supposed to. They failed to amuse and impress the audience and their mistakes were so obvious, they had to do more things to try and make up for their mistakes.
I really hated the jugglers in that show. Maybe because they reminded me of myself and my work.
Above all the show was great and left me wanting to buy a soundtrack. Then we came back from Macau, a hundred and twenty dollars richer.
Not bad.
This afternoon was a good presentation and a horrible train ride back to Hong Kong. The white man sitting beside me was snoring as if there was a T-Rex egg hatching, emerging to face the world. Thanks to Betty, I decided to cry on an episode when Daniel Mead brought his mom to a date. Rather hear prehistoric sounds beside me, I chose to create a diversion.
But still, as I have said - I was cold in China.
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