And My Kidneys Go To....

I waltzed into my clinic today to find the boss and my two assistants in a 'stand-off'. They all turned to me when I came in and I had a sense that something was about to happen. I did a quick search of my conscience, and figured I didn't do anything wrong, at least that I know of.

"Do you want to donate your organs?" asked the boss.

"Come again. What did you say?" This didn't sound like I did anything wrong. Or maybe what I did was not salvageable and I had to donate a kidney to my patient?

"We are recruiting organ donors. You want to give yours away? Did you check your email by the way?" explained the boss.

"Sure I did but the link to register wouldn't open." I did remember to check it.

And so, yours truly has decided to sell donate all usable organs upon my death. I was looking for a clause in the registration to see if I could specify who I didn't want to donate them to; like the annoying old woman who bugs me for an earlier appointment every three weeks or say a terrorist or the guy who decided Krispy Kreme was not worth keeping open in Hong Kong. It is a skewed Chinese belief that you should die with all body parts intact. I have people who refuse an amputation in life threatening situations and thereby loose their lives. One told me that she needs both her legs when she is a ghost so she can walk. I told her she could use her Zimmer frame and that ghosts float about anyway. She was not convinced.

There are certain things I think I have planned out in my life such as the colour of the carpet I want in my dining room (green) and that I want to be cremated to save space. And since I am going to be dust I don't think I need to be such a big bottle of dust. For, even in death, the amount of dust you generate can be an indication of how skinny you were.

Cold Spell

Winter has finally arrived in Cantoland. It is lovely here in winter, in fact, I would put Hong Kong as the place to have a fashionable winter. The winter is cool, with the thermostat hovering at 15-25 degrees Celsius. It is also nice and dry with clear skies. So it is possible to wear mini skirts with funky boots and light knits. Better yet, there is no need to wear a big bulky jacket to cover everything up in an attempt to keep warm. :)

My uncle and his family came to visit Hong Kong the past two days and I obviously got fed. It's nice to see people from back home again, to enjoy the company of cousins and just to have someone around to look out for you, even for a little while. It's nice to have someone around who is impressed by your ability to speak broken Cantonese. Maybe my cousins were just being polite...

My grandfather called my dad to tell me that my great grandaunt has passed away. I knew I had relatives in Hong Kong, but I just never got round to saying hi. So now that my grandfather's remaining elder has passed away, it seems to be an end of an era. I am now faced with the prospect that my grandparents may be the next to go. We are not getting any younger. My next ten years will probably be spent RSVPing wedding invites and funeral notices. I will be a pro in wedding and funeral etiquette by the time I'm done. Then life will throw in children christenings and birthday parties, followed by extreme kiasu-ism with public exams for the overachieving mother child.

This weekend is going to be spent gardening. I have a non-existent garden but it's okay. I plan to buy some plants to put on my balcony and pretend to weed them. Preferably, solar-powered plastic plants would ensure my success in this current whim.

Dot-to-Dot

One of my dearest friends from long ago came to visit me this weekend. I've not seen her for thirteen years and I didn't know what to expect. Apparently, neither did she. However, it was amazing how we just fell into habit and were babbling away, filling in the blanks of the years apart. And I found that we are not that different. We have the same outlook in life, the same wants and desires and the same core principles as well as fetish for shoes and bags. I know that there is this whole school of thought, where you are a combination of the six people closest to you. While this may be indicative of who I am now, to find that the people I grew up with to be so alike is kind of weird. Were our parents instrumental in bringing us together as Shell brats abroad? Or were we drawn to each other due to similar personality traits? People who are similar either repulse each other or find their closest friends in each other. We can either like what we see or dislike the other person for being just like us. Yet I wonder if we were capable of making this distinction as children. Maybe we just didn't like someone 'just because they annoyed me' or we found little Joe next door to be 'the one person who will do anything for me including letting me play with his favourite Supersoaker and standing there while I soaked him and he didn't even get angry at me'. No I am not revealing who little Joe is.. Ha!

As I look back at the different people I have left behind in various phrases of my life, I am certain that each one of them have the same drive to succeed in life. Each one of them are capable and independent women who will continuously challenge themselves in their respective fields and each one of us are strong family people. Surprisingly, of the various 'best friends' I have, there are two corporate lawyers, two pharmacists, one consultant and an almost doctor. I wanted to be a lawyer once and to think that the girls I dominated the playground with as a child would both grow up to be lawyers. Did we have the foresight to single out other lawyers in our groups of playmates? If that were the case, I'm glad I never got the idea to be a podiatrist when I was a kid. I would have no friends if that were the case! Maybe that explains my lack of entertainment of late.

It would be interesting to note how each one of us make our choices in this long road of life. We will probably have two kids and a puppy/cat/hamster while juggling our full-time jobs and an over-achieving husband. We will probably never learn how to cook rice properly (okay, just me) and can live on dessert alone. We will also have a collection of shoes known to husband along with a secret stash hidden somewhere he doesn't know about. We will be overworked and complain about the lack of time while secretly enjoy the stress of our jobs. And one day, we will realise that our families matter and will probably drop the million dollar deals to tend to nappy rash and skinned knees. Don't wonder when this will happen, because I believe we will all be popping out the babies before the age of thirty. Trust me on this one, we are too vain to leave maternity late!

Mehul is Back!

I have been suffering from a migraine that has been threatening to split my head the past week. Believe me, its not nice to have to attempt to string coherent thoughts together. I am blaming the changing weather and the pollution. The fact that I should be sleeping eight hours a night instead of six is not relevant. The two hours were well-spent drooling over hot Taiwanese drama actors. I must have some kind of skewed perception of good-looking as I now think thick eyebrows are hot on a guy. Maybe this migraine is affecting me more than I think.

So if we put together a list of 'Stella's Idea of Hotness' this is what we will get:-

1. Bushy eyebrows, preferably without the long trailing ends seen on Chinese kung fu movies masters. Mono brows are also not acceptable.

2. Glasses. Yes, I think geeks are hot ala the geek in Ugly Betty.

3. Pink shirts. My brothers are adverse to wearing said colour even though it brightens their complexions. If it works for women, it should work for men.

4. Brains. I like guys who are able to give me their two cents worth with style.

5. 6-pack. I am not talking about beer but abs. *drool*

6. Height. As the only person who is short in my family is the Fifth Sibling, I would prefer a guy who is tall so that he doesn't feel intimidated by my family.

7. Long eyelashes because mine are short. If he likes me enough I may get to harvest them for fake lashes hehe...

8. Strong and firm hands. I am a sucker for manly hands. No callouses please, exfoliate and moisturise before application.

9. Body hair in the right places would be okay. I would feel weird if a guy had smoother legs than I do.

This is obviously a very short list of superficial attributes and is no way an indicator of personality and now that I look at it; put together would make a very weird looking individual...I think I need new glasses or keep at the dramas to alter my perception of male beauty.

On a happier note, I opened my door yesterday to see one of the Oxford kids who is back for the next few months! It is brilliant to have someone else on my floor who speaks English (okay, American) and eats vegetables and Hui Lau Shan. Life is looking up! My friend from primary school in Holland is coming to visit this weekend. I've not seen her in thirteen years and I don't know what to expect. It's weird to see someone who was a major part of your life all those years ago. How life goes on has never been more obvious. We have a lot of catching up to do I should think. And I wonder, will this happen again with the people I have now?