Oh baby baby, how was I supposed to know.
Look who we have guarding the frontlines of our television! Everyone got one at Di’s wedding but of course, Y being Y, he somehow managed to leave with eight. He thought they were the coolest things and, I have to admit, I think so too. Second only to marbles, which I have this weird fascination with.
Congratulations, Di and Raph! From the black bridesmaid dresses to the fun-nest doorgifts ever, your wedding was just too cool. Love you.
(Photo taken from dawnwoo.com.)
Upon learning that I’ve just been to Beijing, most people seem to ask only two questions: Are the toilets really bad? And, are the people rude?
No, the toilets aren’t bad. Well, most of them anyway. The worst toilet we came across – or rather, that Em came across – was a public toilet three quarters of the way up the Great Wall of China. We thought it would be decent because not many people get up that far, but apparently neither do the cleaners. Public toilets where you have to pay for usage are great because they’re usually clean, but on the whole, we kept to the facilities of restaurants, posh shopping districts and, of course, our hotels.
Still, I doubt there would be many – if any – of those foul, doorless latrines I’d been warned against left. Thanks to the government’s Olympic efforts, the city has really been spruced up. Development is happening at breakneck speed but the thing that impressed me the most was the security. There’s practically a policeman around every corner. And it says a lot that I feel much safer in Beijing than I do walking the streets of PJ or KL. All in all, it’s a good time to visit…
Unless you have issues with rude people. Hotel and restaurant staff aside, probably one in three people are rude, especially the hordes and hordes of local tourists. I have never seen old people shove their fellow elderly the way I witnessed aunties doing it in Beijing, and I have definitely never had people cut my line in the toilet by wedging themselves between my person and the cubicle door. Seriously?! I have a soft spot for old people and even I felt like pushing back. But I didn’t.
Then there’s the driving. The countless continental cars around are another sign of the wealth that’s pouring into China, but I like the way Em put it, when she described the drivers as behaving as if they were still on bicycles. They stop when and where they please, change lanes however they like (even into incoming traffic!), and toot their horns liberally and ridiculously loudly. If you thought Malaysian drivers were bad, as I did, you ain’t seen nothing yet.
So the toilets were good, but the people were rude. The sights were breathtaking, but the air was really polluted (oh, how it was!). We were told Beijing only gets about 20 days of clear, blue skies a year. We got one. Guess we were really lucky.
At the end of an alarmingly productive week, I finally relax, knowing I have no outstanding items on my to-do list. Chris and Em arrive in just over four hours and we leave for Beijing tomorrow. It’ll be our first time there. I’m not quite sure what to expect.
See you in nine days.
Okay, let’s be honest, this is Y’s new toy. It was his idea, he chose it, he bought it and now he’s using it. I just like knowing it’s in the next room and that I can use it whenever I like. If I ever like. Besides, according to Y’s calculations, this thing costs less than a one-year membership at the gym nearest to his workplace. I’m sold.
The long weekend is almost over and in between mild panic attacks at the thought of going back to work and withdrawal symptoms of the like, I realise I’ve spent much of the last three days crying.
Y has been away on a dive trip since Thursday night – he just got back a few hours ago – and in his absence, I’ve been crying over both episodes of Grey’s Anatomy that I’ve watched and pretty much every other episode of Brothers & Sisters, the first two seasons of which I finished just before noon today. I even watched all the special features.
These two are my current absolute favourite TV serials because I’m a complete sucker for brilliant TV writing. I wish I could write like that and I wish I could work on shows like that. The fact that I have no experience, seriously doubtful ability and live a million miles away from Hollywood doesn’t matter when I’m daydreaming. Oh, to be able to draw people in and create something that so many people can relate to and love, even when it hits a little too close to home.
Brothers & Sisters does that for me in so many ways I cannot even begin to tell you. It’s also got me thinking about fidelity, which comes up a lot in the show. I’ve always reserved a special anger for men who cheat, as some have discovered, but what I’ve been thinking about is the woman’s right to know.
I’d want to know if my husband cheats and I’ve told Y that at least twice. I would rather deal with the reality and the pain than live in stupid, if blissful, ignorance. To me, the only thing worse than being cheated on is not knowing, especially if everyone else around me knows. Because when the truth comes out, and it often does eventually, I’m going to feel a thousand times smaller and more humiliated. Or at least, that’s what I imagine anyway.
The thing is, I’m starting to wonder if everyone else feels the same way. After all, there’s the other school of thought, the idea that what you don’t know won’t hurt you. And until this weekend, I’ve always insisted that the woman should know. But what if she doesn’t want to?
Would you want to know if your partner is cheating on you? Would you tell your friend if you know his/her partner is cheating on them? My answer is yes and yes. Unless you tell me otherwise.
