Sunday Mass... in the Jing

Today, I did something for the first time: I heard mass in Beijing.

Yes, I will be first to admit that I have been remiss in my duties as a Catholic -- why that is so is a different entry altogether.

Anyway, after living here for more than three years, today was the first time I actually went inside a church and heard mass. I was surprised to see many people inside the church, with the Communist Party's stand on organized religion being what it is (the government is officially atheist). I was not so surprised to see quite a handful of foreigners, Filipinos included. After all, this was one of only two weekly masses held in English.

I realized that the experience of hearing mass is the same as it is everywhere; I left with my heart feeling a bit more joyful, my burdens a bit lighter, and I felt ready to face the week ahead. But I also left with a sudden yearning for home, in particular the understated beauty with which we celebrate our religion: the solemn churches, the hushed crowd, and above all, the angelic voices of those who sing their praise.

What I wanted to drive at is actually very simple: I wish the church choir sounded a bit better... but anyway, I am ending this now before this entry starts to sound like a rant.

Being back in church was a good feeling, and to be honest, I am still pretty darn lucky to have a church to go to, all things considered. So I'll take what I can get, and try to start turning up regularly for my Sunday appointments with the Big Man again.

Memories of Birthdays Past

First thought today: Is it Thursday already?

Quickly followed by: Why are the days just breezing by? Where are they off to?

Then I realized. They must be in a hurry to get to my 26th birthday.

If I had a panic button, I'd press it now. Not because I'm worried about getting older, but because I have no idea how I'm going to celebrate this birthday. My best friends have left Beijing, my family is 1800 miles away, and some other special people are even thrice further.

I am scared that this might rival that birthday I spent in an overnight train to Milan, alone. God, please, I hope not. Well, at least I have a home in Beijing; I can cook spaghetti and buy some fried chicken and celebrate... even if I'm by myself. So maybe it won't be that bad. Sad, but not that bad.

Last month, I spent almost three weeks on vacation in the US and thought that would be enough to make this birthday special. An advanced birthday gift, I told myself. I guess I should have known better; I should have known that despite the wonderful trip I had, I still would like to do something to commemorate November 3rd.

It would be easy to round up people and throw a party; but I've always held birthdays in high regard, and it just wouldn't feel special if I celebrate it just for the sake of having warm bodies around me as I turn a year older.

So I twirl the date round and round in my head, and I dream of past birthdays spent with loved ones... old friends, my crazy family.

My parents would be up early to go to the market and pick up ingredients for the day's feast. The kitchen would be a mess and the smell of garlic prawns and inihaw na liempo would be wafting through the house, signalling that amazingly delicious food will soon be served.

The coolers are soon filled with ice to chill the beer, and set out by the garage, almost as a welcome to the guests. Chairs and tables would be arranged, and 'reinforcement' a.k.a. rented monoblocs would be arriving by this time, if deemed necessary. My brother would tinker with the audio and visuals -- speakers, projectors, amplifiers, what have you; because no party is ever complete without good music -- and bad music at that, courtesy of the videoke! And I would wake up relatively late to all this chaos (a benefit of being the balikbayan, haha), jump in the shower and soon join in the boring preparations fun.

The party starts when you hear Buster, our smelly but dear German Shepherd, bark at the first few guests approaching the gate. Then it's all good times from there. Stories, laughter, booze, more stories, singing, dancing, getting drunk, then drunken stories. In the middle of it all, I would probably be asked to rush to the supermarket to buy more ice, more beer, or more pulutan, and I would gladly oblige since it's my excuse to start picking my friends up from their houses (kayo yan songers! spoiled! haha). Towards the end (normally past midnight), we would start bringing out the coffee and batchoy so people can have something warm in their stomachs and make sure they are sober enough to find their way home.

Often during get-togethers like these, people would be doing their their own stuff: the adults in the garage downing the alcohol (special mention: Tita Cynthia!), the kids playing inside the house or watching cartoons, me entertaining my friends, my brother enjoying his Red Horse and looking judgmental at all the SMB drinkers (haha), my sister in a corner with her phone, texting, oblivious to everything (haha joke lang Tata). But despite that, everyone partakes in an atmosphere that is festive and happy, because the fact they we're all together is the most important of all.

*moment of silence*

This is the point where I would be sighing, swearing that I miss home so much so that I am tempted to go to the PAL website and book a ticket no matter how expensive it is. But no. No complaining.

I had considered just letting the day pass, shelve it together with the rest of those ordinary days of the year, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The day I disregard my birthday is the day I stop loving life -- and I'm not even thinking of going there.

No worries. Come November 3rd, I'll be happy with my spaghetti and fried chicken, and memories of birthdays past... and more importantly, dreams of birthdays to come. :)

It's Overrr

If I knew 2 weeks ago what I know now, well, things would have been much easier. I would have been calmer, not too many sleepless nights, not too many tulala moments. But then again, there is never a way to advance wisdom gained from experience, so that's that.

I say it's over - the whole surgery ordeal is over. And in record time! Only 8 days after the procedure and I feel pretty much like my old self, save for some minor pains and inconveniences here and there. I did not expect it to happen all so quickly; in fact, I was trying to prepare myself for weeks, if not months, not only of physical but also emotional recovery. But today I find myself doing and thinking pretty much the same things that I did and thought about prior to finding out that I had to have that fateful cyst taken out.

I thought this was going to be pivotal - you know, all dramatic and poignant and dear-diary worthy. But only a few moments were... like having to pull out my brave face time and again to mask the fear that truly felt, my dad giving me a kiss before I was wheeled into the operating room, waking up after the surgery knowing that it's all over, my mom's giant hug when she arrived on my third day post-op. The rest of it was pretty much routine.

I did learn two very important things though: First, in a time of need, the support of the people in your life can come in many forms but they all count for something -- far more than you expect it to count. Despite being physically away from 98% of the people who sent me their messages, sentiments, advice, love and prayers, I felt that I somehow mattered in other people's lives. And that can trump out fear most of the time. Not all of the time, but it's a huge, huge help. So again, thank you very much to everyone who left a comment, sent me messages and emails and texts, and even those who did not respond but did think of me.

Second, I don't think anyone will love me (and my siblings) more than my parents do. Their dedication is unwavering. Flew to Beijing 4 days after I got the news that I required surgery, without question. Said nothing when I rouse them middle of the night to help me up because I needed to pee. Until now, as I walk at half my speed, they patiently slow their pace down too just so they can walk beside me. They work their way around how I feel - am i tired? hungry? in pain? sleepy? bored? in need of a laugh? It amazes me. My parents, hands down, are the bestttttt. E-ver. :)

While it will probably take a few more months to be completely healed (you know, be able to ride a rollercoaster and stuff), this chapter is pretty much over. I look forward to having a greater awareness of the value of health, and hope this is the start of a gradual lifestyle change for the better. Nothing else matters if you're anyway dead and can't enjoy it!

So, onto the next great adventure. What that is... only time will tell!

:)

My Update: 3 Days Post-Op

It's Saturday afternoon, Day 3 here in the hospital and the boredom bug is starting to bite. I am very very happy to report that I am recovering and healing quite well. :) The whole experience has been a pleasant surprise. Well, okay, maybe not pleasant, but it was much better than I expected it to be.

The day before the surgery was a busy one. We went to the hospital in the morning to do my blood work and sign consent forms, and also met with the doctor performing the surgery and also my anesthesiologist. They were both very nice ladies and put me at ease about the whole procedure. Even Papa was feeling confident that everything was going to be okay. After that, we walked around the area so I could show Papa that Starbucks was just right down the road to the hospital, as well as some international grocery stores and restaurants where he could go get food to eat. Then we headed to Ikea (to look at furniture), Siyuanqiao (to look at car accessories), Bainaohui (to look at gadgets) and Qianmen (to shop at H&M). Like I said, busy day! I was ready to crash after that. Forget about being well-rested for the surgery!

Papa had cooked his delicious sinigang and even more delicious daing na bangus... pure Pinoy food heaven. I was advised not to eat anything after midnight as the procedure was scheduled for 8:30am the next day, so I managed to finish that dinner by 11:00pm (talagang photo finish! haha). I was not thinking so much about my 'impending doom' until we had finished packing and I got to bed past midnight. I barely slept that night, despite having to be up by 5:30am to be at the hospital before 7:00am.

So I was still quite groggy when we arrived at the hospital. We checked into the room at 7:00am (which really looked like a hotel room, only with medical equipment) and I was quickly prepared for the procedure: changed into a hospital gown, started an IV, shaved the area where the incision was going to be. I was able to squeeze in sending a few messages to my loved ones before they said that it was time for me to be wheeled into the operating room. I remember feeling calm but praying the Angelus over and over again and just asking God to take care of me and telling Him I am confident that he will not let anything bad happen to me.

I met my cheerful anesthesiologist inside the operating room. She asked me where I was from and I told her I am Filipino, after which she asked me if I could sing for her. I told her I'll do that after she sedates me. Hehe.

I was transferred to the operating table, and I felt my arms being strapped onto it. I remember saying hi to my surgeon and asking her if she was having a good day. She said yes and she told me that she was sure I was also going to have a good day. The last thing I remember was asking all the people in the room if they watched Grey's Anatomy (they don't) and telling them how people kept asking me if I got a McDreamy or a McSteamy. My anesthesiologist asked me if I was feeling dizzy, but I wasn't and felt I could still chat up a storm over the next hour or so. But then she must have put in the magic potion, since the next thing I remember was the nurses waking me up and telling me that the procedure was over. I checked the clock: it was only 10:30am! That was quick.

It turns out that only an hour after I was wheeled into the operating room, my doctor had already called Papa to tell him that the surgery was over and that everything went well. In fact, it went better than well. They did not have to take the ovary out, just got rid of the cyst, which means I got to keep all my body parts. The anesthesiologist took a photo of my healthy ovary and the cystic ovary, and it is unbelievable, but since I don't want to scare y'all, I'll keep those photos to myself. :)

A few minutes later I was already brought back into my room. I could feel the wound but it was not painful, it was only uncomfortable. It was much, much better than I imagined it to be. I was slipping in and out of consciousness but I remember talking to anyone who would listen to me; the nurses, Papa, my doctor, even Gauri and Kim who came to visit at lunchtime. I was feeling good.

Already that evening I asked them to take the catheter out. I wanted to be able to be back to normal as quickly as possible. Well that was quite an experience, but I'm not going into details. Let's just say that was the most uncomfortable experience throughout my stay so far. But by that evening I was already able to get up and walk around a bit, and even go to the bathroom by myself.

The next day, Day 2, only 24 hours after the surgery, my doctor was happy to see me up and about and cleared me for taking a shower. That felt sooooo good. By then I was already eating normally and walking around. They discontinued my IV and I was even able to manage to chat with my mom and sister on video, although I still looked like a hospital patient. I was having a hard time not laughing because Papa was making so many jokes! I also had another visitor, Kuya Krick - my friend Mai's brother - and his kids came to see me. It was nice to be able to chat with them. The dietician also came in to pay me a visit to talk to me about over-all health and how this can be the start of a healthier lifestyle for me.

So now Day 3 rolled around and aside from a little bit of discomfort from the incision, I'm feeling great and seem to be recovering well. I did have a migraine attack in the morning but it went away around lunchtime. Most, if not all of my bodily functions are back to normal which means everything must be working well inside. I was even able to put on my normal clothes (i.e. get out of my hospital gown) and walked around the hospital. With my laptop here we were able to play good music and it took all my willpower not to dance when Chris Brown's Forever came on. Haha. I can't wait to be able to move a little bit faster again, but all in good time!

Looking back I think it was also helpful to have expected the worst, because it gave me a sense of accomplishment when I was able to quickly get back on normal routines shortly after the surgery. And though I am not as religious as my Paulinian mentors would have wanted me to be, I know that I owe it all to the Father was with me every step of the way and still is holding my hand until all of this is over, and beyond.

I cannot wait to be discharged from the hospital (that's scheduled on Monday) and be back in my apartment where I can watch my Filipino channels, and also have Papa cook some good Filipino food again! All in all this experience has been better than I imagined it to be, and I am both happy and thankful to have been through the worst. I hope it only gets better from here.

An Unsolicited Update

So here's the deal. Three weeks ago I had some pain on the lower left side of my torso. Went to the hospital, had it checked, got a (blissful) shot of morphine for the pain, and they ran some tests. Turns out it was caused by relatively small kidney stones, which in fact I unknowingly passed in the next few days. Two weeks later I came in for a follow-up with my urologist, he cleared me for kidney stones, and sent me on my way to get an ultrasound just to be extra sure that there's nothing left.

True enough, no more stones. But alas, something else was there.

After getting the results of the ultrasound, my urologist gave me a call and told me that while the stones were gone, they had found a mass in my lower abdomen. He booked me for an appointment with a general surgeon the next day. The general surgeon was a jolly old Chinese guy who spoke flawless English; I quite liked him. But then he told me that the mass was neither connected to my digestive nor excretory systems and therefore was not his area of expertise. He referred me to the gynecology department and the next available slot was for the next day. And so after another day of not knowing what the hell that mass was all about, I came in last Wednesday for a consult with a gynecologist.

To cut the story short and also so that I won't go into any details that might make you cough up your lunch, the mass is a cyst in my left ovary and it needs to be taken out. Perhaps the only detail I'll share is its size -- because it's so big, it's ridiculous -- it's 10x12x7cm, which is roughly the size of your two fists put together (!!!). The doctor compared it to a baby's head. And here I was thinking I wasn't ready to have a child yet!

Anyway I have come to terms with the fact that I'm going to have to go into surgery. In fact I've booked my time -- it's Thursday next week Aug 13th -- and my parents are coming over to Beijing to help me through this (they really are the best!). It's about a 2-3 day stay at the hospital and a 2-week recovery period. I'm pretty sure one of the questions you have is whether or not I can still have a child -- breathe a sigh of relief, friend, because I still can. And the other -- any chance that it's cancerous? While any abnormal growth within your body will always have a certain risk of being malignant, most dermoid cysts are benign and only 1-2% of them are cancerous. And while I've somehow gone against the grain other times in my life, I am hoping that in this instance I will be part of the majority. :)

I'm not really worried about the surgery; I'm pretty much gonna be out when they slice me up anyway. What unnerves me a little is thinking about recovery. Maaaaan I cannot imagine not being able to laugh! (It'll put a strain on the abdominal muscles which the wound pretty much goes through.) I can also not imagine not being able to lift things. I have never stayed in a hospital for more than 5 hours, tops. In that sense, I've always considered myself relatively healthy. Not to be defensive, but for the record the cyst was not caused by anything I did or did not do -- dermoid cysts are congenital defects, and those that are in the ovaries commonly manifest themselves during a woman's reproductive years. So ladies, not to scare you or anything, I'm just saying, go do your annual health checks and take them seriously. I had my last one 2 years ago, missed the one last year, and boom! See where it got me.

I'm trying to be really brave, but over the last few days there were times when I would wonder -- will I ever be the same again after my surgery on Thursday? I know I might be overreacting a bit; come on, I'm not the first person EVER to go through a surgery like this! And I am of course better off having it taken out, it's really not an option to leave it in there. It's just that I love roller coasters and I would really really REALLY hate it if I have to give that up on account of the surgery. Haha! I know you might be laughing, but I just can't imagine living the rest of my life not being able to ride roller coasters! But also, what if that cyst were the source of my talents, my skills? You know, like Samson and his hair! Now that would just be so freakin' sad. But okay, I'll stop thinking about that!

The other thing is, you know, September 29th. :) I have been counting down to that date since forever! Well okay, since March 2009, but still. I would hate to cancel my vacation, specially not now when I've finally succeeded in convincing Jaim to go with me to visit Lucy and Joel and also see New York! I really hope 6 weeks is enough time for me heal and to be able to take a long haul flight, lug around a 20kg suitcase (or two, hehe, of course I'm going shopping there!), and endure walking around for hours. I'm crossing my fingers... and my legs and my toes and my eyes too, if those will help!

Well this has been a pretty long note, so here's my last point: some people may have qualms about sharing their health problems with others, and if this has put you in an uncomfortable position or has scarred you for life, then I apologize. But I'd like you to know that I did this for two reasons: first, so that all of you, specially the women, can put a premium on your health, and as I mentioned, to not overlook your annual health checks. In fact, if I had gone to last year's check-up, then the cyst would not have been as big, and I would not require such a long recovery period. So think about it, okay? Second, one can never underestimate the power of prayer, so I humbly ask you guys to please keep me in yours for the next few weeks -- and thank you in advance.

I know I'm gonna be okay... well, I'm really hopeful, at least. Since I'm only human, I also get those dammit-I-wish-this-would-never-have-happened moments, and I guess I will continue to do so until I have fully recovered and am fully able to jump around... not like I jump around a lot now, but still, I'd like to have the option! :) Anyway, I will most likely post other updates throughout this whole experience -- not gross ones, don't worry; I'm just thinking it might help alleviate some of the boredom while recovering, don't you think? Now if only I can request for wifi in my hospital room...

A Price Tag on Education

It is a harsh realization for me, finding out that education is indeed an expensive commodity. Perhaps because I attended a public university, I took for granted the price that some people have to pay to get a good education. I never really understood how it must have felt like for smart, talented, hard-working students belonging to lower STFAP brackets (UP's Student Financial Assistance Program) who can barely afford the commute to school. I did not understand it until now.

I have always wanted to pursue higher education. I am an advocate of the value of learning. I believe it is the single best investment you can make - it is the only thing that no one can ever take from you. Over the weekend I had a Eureka moment when I figured out what and where I would like to study. With my interest and passion being inclined towards communication, I found two outstanding universities that offered outstanding Master's programs in communication. Granted that it was in a couple of very expensive cities in terms of cost of living -- London (London School of Economics) and Los Angeles (University of Southern California) -- but I still had faith that it was feasible.

I did more research, got all excited about the courses (the geekazoid in me was in heaven as I read through the course descriptions) and started thinking just how soon I could start the process and get myself back in school. Then there it was, the rain on my parade. I came to discover just how expensive it can be.

As an international student, you have to provide proof of financial support, that you are able to pay not only for tuition but also your living expenses for your first year in school. Immediately, regrets about not taking savings seriously during the past two years of my expat employment started flooding in. Two years and nothing to show for it in the bank. Of course, my numerous gadgets or travel experience or bags and shoes do not count as collateral.

I thought about aiming for a promotion come October when my contract is renewed, then saving feverishly for the next year so I can at least have enough money in the bank for tuition. And for the other half, I would have to swallow a bit of pride and ask my parents to back me up. I figured, when my brother got married when he as 27, my parents sold one of their cars to finance it and help him get started with married life. In another year I'll be turning 27 too -- so can I just have the same benefit (i.e. the cash equivalent of a car) somehow like an advance, and just promise to pay for my future wedding myself? :)

I can see a few roadblocks along the way, and of course bits and pieces of hesitation and uncertainty here and there... Would I be able to live again as a meager student after working and pretty much financing myself for the last 5 years? Will it be easy to be away from home? (C'mon, as long as you're on the same time zone as 'home', it really doesn't count as much.) Is it simply too much to dream for such expensive education when I am anyway a daughter of a developing country?

Regardless of those questions, I have set my heart and mind to this objective and I feel very very strongly about it now. And I'm putting it out there, because they say if you share with the world what you desire, then it will find its way to you (or you find your way to it, or whatever).

Here's to hoping that it does.

Staying put... and the jumbled thoughts that come with it.

This weekend I attempted to start packing in preparation for my apartment move come end-February. I'm switching apartments, but staying put in Beijing.


I took some boxes from my friend Irene's place and as we hauled them into a cab, she asked me how I felt about everyone leaving and me staying behind.


There was a time when Beijing was home to numerous expats -- and most, if not all, of the twenty-somethings have become my friend in one way or another. I've often felt like a veteran, an old hand in this city, having been here since 2006; sometimes more like a welcome wagon when a new expat arrives -- introducing them to the group, getting them acquainted with life in this new environment which to me now feels like a second home.


But as our company, like most others, rolled with the punches of the current economic situation, it was inevitable that employees as expensive as expats would be one of the groups to be most hit. Over the last six months, our group has shrunk so considerably -- either going back to their home bases or moving to other cities in China. I, on the other hand, have just extended my contract here for another couple of years. By the time July 2009 rolls around, I know I will be the only one left (unless, knock on wood, something happens to my team) amongst what was once a 20+ group of young expats in Beijing.


Before I confirmed the extension of my contract, I tossed all the considerations inside my head to try and justify whatever decision I would make. Of course, it did not help that I was given only one morning to confirm my agreement. I called all the important people whom I thought should have a say in this decision and they unanimously agreed that the wisest thing to do would be to stay put; another couple of years in Beijing, another chance to save (yeah right hehe), and hopefully a few more chances to advance career-wise along the way. And so my boss received a yes from me by the end of that morning.


Although the decision has been made, I guess to one part of me it still hasn't sunk in that the contract has been extended. That part does not really want to think about how life is going to be over the next couple of years, specially in light of all of my friends leaving. I remember when I first came here, all I could do was count down to 2009 when I can finally go back home. Of course a lot of things have happened since then, but that is not to say that the feeling of wanting to return to the Philippines has completely gone away. That one part still expects that change which was supposed to come in 2009.


When I first expatriated, it felt like I put my life on hold. And back then, I was fine putting it on hold for a couple of years, give or take a few months, in the name of goal-fulfillment and career advancement. But now I sit here, two years hence, and facing another two years of not being in the Philippines, and I think, am I willing to keep my life on hold for that much longer?


And that's when I wondered why I ever thought that this, right here, was not life.


Going back to the Philippines seemed like the milestone after which I was going to re-start my so-called life; revive friendships, do the stuff I used to always do, live the way I've always used to live. But time, it seems, no matter how long or short, will always change you and the people around you. You can never pick up where you left off. So from the very start, there was no 're-starting' of the life I left... but I did not know that then.


It's not easy, accepting that being away from my family and friends and being in a place which is not where I grew up has become my way of life. But what is there to do? Resistance is futile. And at one point, what I have now was everything I ever wanted... so what am I whining about?


It's just that... I still get those moments when I wonder if there's anything better out there that I should be doing with my life.


I dunno.


What do you think?

A Reason

I used to keep a journal*... but ever since I've been with you, it's been hard.

There's so much to say and the pages are better left blank.

I'll remember it all anyway... :)

= = =

*Applicable to blogs too!

2008 In Retrospect

As I stood at the threshold of the new year 2009, feeling compelled to give a look back to the year that was, I felt a bit... ambivalent. For some reason, I could not remember the things that happened earlier in the year, or how it felt. I knew I have had new experiences, undergone changes, had some achievements and failures and, from all of these, picked up lessons along the way. But it seemed to have been overshadowed by a single event in late 2008 that showed me that good things come to those who wait – but that event deserves a totally separate entry, so let me leave it at that, for now. :) So onto other things...

In 2008 I seemed to have developed a better appreciation for this city I live in. My eyes were opened to just how vibrant Beijing is, and to a certain extent, I fell in love with it; I found new friends, explored new places, even witnessed some once-in-a-lifetime events during the 2008 Olympics. When I came here a couple of years ago, all I could think about was how much I was looking forward to 2009 and going back home. Now I know when that time comes, it's not going to be so easy saying goodbye to the Jing.

2008 was also a year of traveling to cities I've never been to – Guangzhou, Shenzhen, Macau, Hong Kong, Xi'an, Qingdao, Chicago, Las Vegas, Los Angeles; and indulging in the occasional luxuries – my Macbook, that helicopter ride, that photography course, DSLR’s, shopping sprees... Though I do realize how big of a dent all those have made on my savings, I do not regret any of them. Papa taught me that as long as you are willing to work, money can be earned. On the other hand, we don't have unlimited chances and opportunities to do the things we want to do or get the things we want. (Did that sound like an excuse? Haha! Anyway...)

2008 for me was also about letting go of baggage, of realizing differences that are irreconcilable, and calling things off when enough is enough. I have made decisions which I feel were some of my wisest, decisions which allowed a whole new light to come into my life and it felt like I have woken up from an extended nap.

So what then do I expect of 2009?

If you remember my 25th birthday post, from then I have learned that expecting nothing is a good plan – you will always be pleasantly surprised. But if I do look ahead and set some expectations, I just need to make sure they are managed so as not to disappoint myself or anyone else.

Not having expectations, though, does not mean I am not hopeful, because I am. Hopeful that this time next year I will still be able to smile and say with a straight face that I have had a good, if not exceptional, year.

Cheers, friends, and all the best for 2009!

Want some cheese with that WHINE?

[drafted 30 Dec 2008]

The past couple of days, it has been a conscious effort to not be whiny. We moved offices and it was our first couple of days in our new 'home', in an area just a couple of kilometers south of our former office building. Things are not THAT bad after all, and with the recession hitting everyone where it hurts, I should be thankful that my company is cutting down on office rent instead of jobs and people.

Therefore I will not complain, despite the fact that it takes more than 5 times my usual travel time and 5 times as much walking from my apartment to the new office. I will not complain that half the lobby is not yet functional and is covered in a foot of dust, or that the area near the bank of elevators reeks of smoke. I will also not complain that it takes forever for the elevator to come, that it crawls up the building at a snail's pace and that it takes, on average, 5 stops before I get to the 16th floor. I will not complain that we've lost our beautiful 30th floor west-facing view that shows us snow-capped mountains on certain days, and stunning sunsets everyday.

I will not complain that the automatic flush starts working WHILE you are on the seat and that it has been a couple of days that I have been washing my hands with freezing cold water -- word around the office is that it's always been that way and always will be. I will also not complain about losing the prestige we once had at the mere mention of our office address; our old building, the China World Trade Towers (which we lovingly call Guomao), were among the most photographed and celebrated modern buildings in Beijing, more so now with the construction of Tower 3 which is slated to be the tallest building in the city. Now we are housed in an obscure area that three out of the four cabbies I have asked are not quite familiar with.

It did make me think how much being in Guomao has gotten into my head; we have been spoiled by the comforts of being attached to a mall, despite not buying anything from 50% of the shops (the likes of LV, Cartier, Montblanc, Ferragamo, Samsonite Black Label - but who cares, it's still nice to look!). In Guomao there were places to get healthy food (Schlotzky's, Subway, good Jap food complete with a rotating sushi bar) and UNhealthy food (Thai, Taiwanese, Steak Factory, Cold Stone Ice Cream, Haagen Dazs, oh just thinking about it!) -- whhatever you feel like. There's a supermarket where you can get foreign stuff, a Watson's, a Sephora, a Bank of China, an ICBC (a bank which lets me pay my bills through the ATM)... yeah basically anything you need to do anything.

I know, I know. I'm just gonna have to wait a while for me to get used to my new surroundings. In the meantime... I will not complain!

P.S. In my defense, the above entry is for your amusement only and is not a reflection of my general level of whiny-ness which I always keep at a minimum. Haha. I really do try not to complain... except to certain people, who do not have much choice but to listen to my whine. :)