Ola' Lisboa!

Portugal is not a common destination for travelers. Let's face it: It's small. It's out of the way. It's not much characteristically different from the rest of Europe - so given a choice for vacation, Lisa, as it is known, would not stand out as a clear choice, which was why I decided to go against all common sense and take a vacation there.

Boys, was I pleased with my decision!

It would be hard to detail all the fun I had there - but I will give you 5 reasons why Lisbon was the perfect vacation spot.

1. It's an extremely relaxed city - I felt it the moment I arrived at the airport: no hassle, no forms to fill, no hoo-haa - just simply an enjoyably chill atmosphere. The weather helps, too. Against the gloomy weather forecast, my days in Lisbon were either filled with sunshine or a bright crisp air, not cold enough to make you chill, but refreshing enough to keep you intact. You see people stroll on the street with such a carpe diem attitude, enjoying the rays of sun tingling on their shoulders. You see people gathering for an expresso or some pastries, on any given day, and hey, given the economic downturn they are facing, it's a hell of an attitude!

2. It's full of simply good culinary adventures! From the Pasteis de Belem (a small tart with flaky crust and creamy fillings) to the spit-roasted chicken restaurants to even the fancier Olivier restaurants, I absolutely enjoyed the genuinely good food - no fancy deco, no formality, just simply very good food.

3. Come evening, Lisa is a party heaven! Strolling the alleys in Bairro Alto with a drink in hand, feel free to stop by any bar for refill or any dance floor to crash the party. In some way, Bairro Alto is like a big college party, except no one is worried about underage drinking, just focused on having a really good time.

4. Lisboners are super friendly! From old men on the trams to young ladies on the street, the people here just make you feel welcomed, even when you don't speak Portuguese.

5. And yes, the boys are dreamy! Portuguese boys are inspirations for hundreds of ad campaigns for A/X, Guess, and so on - but they also put those ads to shame! Walking on the street, you have the feeling that anyone of them can be a model. With their dark features, chiseled faces, luscious lips, and well-coiffed messy hair - these boys can make you feel weak at the knees.

Just like that, one week in Lisbon was a good amount of time to experience the beauty of Lisa in her very own ways. I arrived excited, was pleased, and left with a piece of my heart in Lisbon! Amo-te, Lisa!


Photo: Lisbon bridge - www2.kenes.com

Unexpected anger....

I never thought I would be angry watching American Idols.

I never thought I would have much emotion watching it, if at all. But last night - I really did.

Aside from very talented and worthy artists, the top 12 fell short of greatness, kicking out extremely strong contestants such as Lily Scott and Alex Lambert in favor of the pretty boy Tim Urban and a forgettable Katie Steven. As Lily exclaimed, "I don't know what America wants to hear" - the popular voting system certainly managed to sideline some of the most unique talents who are not of mainstreamed look, style, or vocal. It was certainly not fair!

But life is never fair! This week, as my office space continued to shrink from a glass-wall single room to a pathetic little table in some hallway, I found out that bitter truth the very hard way! While some fresh college graduate temp enjoys an actual office, I am thrown out there in the hall way with absolutely zero privacy! I was angry at that unfair treatment - I really was! It didn't make sense when people told you you were doing a good job and then put you in such a situation when you feel least appreciated. Life is certainly not fair!

Yet, as I looked at the top 12 American Idols - there was also a sense of accomplishment that softened me to tears - a sense of joy when you have done something so great after working so hard. Some of them had been through hard times when things had certainly NOT been fair, and the reward of sitting on one of those uncomfortable stools was worth all that hardness. And I thought to myself, this is just a rough pad - and I have just the right strength to overcome it. If I am put on such a display in that hallway, I will make it a great show!

At the end, it will be worth it!


Credit: Presidential Candidate JFK - Hank Walker

What becomes of the broken-hearted?

At some point, it will probably feel absolutely normal when someone tell me "I am falling in love with you" or "You broke my heart!".

And I wouldn't even blink.

However, at this moment, I am not that jaded yet - and so when I got a text message from this guy with the latter content, I was shaken for a few seconds. The first reaction was to sit down and take a deep breath. In some way, it felt very similar to being pointed out, mistakenly, as a thieve in a public place - or at least, that's what I usually imagine it to feel like, not that I've ever been in that situation.

Anyway, this friend of mine - whom I like dearly, even now - and I have been hanging out for a month or so. We liked each other very much, and loved spending time together doing more than just physical activities. The reason for it being relatively casual was that he would move away very soon for work - and obviously I've got my own career to pursue as well, so there's no reason to go too deep into anything that we couldn't commit ourselves too. That made sense - well, at least until he allegedly developed unexpected affections for me and expected me to feel the same way - and ultimately sent the accusatory SMS above.

After recovered from the unexpected accusation, I was confused, and then very upset. I felt like people, in this and a few other similar incidences, had victimized themselves and then tried to put me to blame. It was ME who behave like myself, ME who made them fall in love, and ME who broke their heart. All of this, I had almost no control - but when it came to blaming someone, I was the one, despite having been straightforward and honest, who misled them to misery.

In the end, after all that anger, I just felt sad for failing to make someone happy.

And that's the biggest disappointment of all.


Credit: Broken Heart - by Deak04

Before the storm hits....

In between days of climatic cruelty, I woke up to a morning of beautiful sunshine and a clear blue sky. The tensely dry cold air somehow managed to wind down, settling the sand from construction sites on the ground, next to a few dunes of not-yet-melted snow.

I didn’t know if it was because of the calm weather or the breathing techniques I picked up from my conference a few weeks ago but somehow my emotions have managed to settle as well. It's like I have made peace with them – even though I knew they were still lingering around deep in my heart. Yet, just like the storm that would come soon– I knew those feelings would eventually rise up to disturbances…

But for this moment, it was easy to just let go and enjoy the sunshine.

Photo credit: Calm Before the Storm (2007) by Steen Doessing

Inspiration...

The persistent cold weather in DC has managed to slow down any activities to an idyllic state and, in the same process, freeze personalities to some sort of dull resemblances.

In that sluggish post-holidays pace, it was ironic that my first week back at work ended up being incredibly hectic. Four out of of 5 people of my team were out on holidays or mission while we were having an event coming up pretty soon -which left me with all the last minute preparation. On the bright side, that gave me the chance to work as a de facto team leader, and it left me quite a lot of new perspectives.

Yet, as much as work could distract me from the unreal cold winds outside, after 8 hours of labor, the reality quickly took over. I didn't know if it was really the weather, or DC itself, but somehow I just couldn't find any inspiration from the immediate physical and social surroundings. Everywhere I went I saw the same infrastructures, the same people doing the very similar thing - I ached for some fun picture, some interesting work, some inspirational story , but no one could quite intrigue me like Brent did two years ago. I couldn't help but wonder, was it his experiences or his passion that gave him such a captivating personality? And as I continued to dread the dullness of DC, I wondered when and from whom I would find the next inspiration.

With that in mind, I lugged myself to meet a friend from school for dinner and drink one Friday night. Our conversation was rather banal, and I would admit it was more of my boredom that took over, so when we moved to drinks and a bit dancing I began to watch the time more closely. Waiting for the alcohol to wear off before I could drive home, I saw a beautiful man on the dance floor - well, it was hard not to notice him, given how my friends were all looking at him. Tall, blond, beautifully slim fit, with a provocative perky butt slightly revealed through the low-rise jeans. Suddenly the gorgeous creature, Matt - if I recalled correctly, turned and gave me a smile that could warm up any heart, even one of a cold bitchy one. Before I knew it, we were dancing and talking together. It wasn't long before he told me what he did for a living - he was a male stripper.

That was a first! I thought so as we continued to enjoy each other's company. He surely had some moves that my lawyers and military friends could never imitate. He surely had a beautiful body that some would dream to have one day. Most of all, he surely had a profession that not everyone would even consider - especially in DC. Yet, he managed to intrigue me even more when he leaned over and whispered in my ears "There's nothing I want more than to kiss you right now - but we just met, and I am a stripper but not a slut, so let's meet and go out later."

In a city where men put on a straight high moral face at work to mask their devilish sluttiness inside, a city where men consider homewrecking a leisure, a city where dating is almost as hard as the Viagra-produced constant boner, it was so refreshing to meet a man who, despite a profession that people frown upon, managed, or was aspired, to stay so decent.

He might not call, or might not even remember our conversation - but his words were everything that I needed. It was more than a breathe of fresh air that brought back the inspiration to carry on life, in hope of meeting a great, decent, and interesting man.

Credit: Winter in Delft - Arkadius Zkotlewski

1, 2, 3, ...

It has been a long time since I last spent my new year's eve in the US - after Amsterdam, Singapore, and Bangkok the past 3 years - and being "home" after all provided a good occasion to reflect at this annual hallmark on what has been achieved and what to look forward to. Obviously I have done the year-end summary bit before Christmas, so it was natural that when the count-down finished, no more champagne, and the fireworks [were] through, all I thought of was what I would try to achieve in this new year.

Yet, as I was going down the 1, 2, 3 of 2010 goals, I was struck by a same pattern I had done things in 2009, 2008, and before that. At some level, it seemed that I had been creating some sort of list for everything I do: "Top 20 universities for graduate school," "Top 10 employers with GLBT-friendly policies," "Top 5 travel destinations," and then, "Top 100 qualities that I look for in a boyfriend." All along these lists have been manipulating my choice of action, crossing out prospects that do not make it to the top - including men who, in one way or another, fail to possess ALL those 100 qualities. (OK, so it's not really 100 - but a lot!). As I looked at a hot guy right next to me at the party, I was wondering if I were dating him, how long it would have taken me to find out his flaws and send him away. Just like my discussion on having plan B, in this case, it seemed that having a list is just as bad as not having one. For the clear orientation that a list provided, it could also too quickly reject prospects who might just be 1 or 2 errors shy from perfection.

Not compromising or settling for less than these lists has stuck with me for years - and as a new year rolled in, I just wish there would be someone special enough to make me feel like I were not compromising at all. Is that too much to ask?

Happy 2010 to everyone!


Credit: Hermes at lesailes.hermes.com

In Christmas spirits...

After days of personal imprisonment, I finally got a quick breath of fresh air before jumping into a car heading to the ever crowded Potomac Mills for some Christmas shopping.

As we arrived at the destination, despite my commitment to cut cost and an occasional enthusiasm with low-budget shopping, I quickly found myself sickened by the mountain of neglected last-season clothes and the flow of low-educated and badly-dressed shoppers. The Christmas spirits, instead of dorning a beaming glow on everyone, somehow managed to add a few more lines of stress across the faces already paled by the cold and the previous snow storm. People stood in lines for hours for some small little things that, to me, were often minute in value, ridiculous in design, and potentially zero in utility. They threw their new purchases into a cart and pushed it along the stream of similarly unhappy families at the mall.

Half way through the mile long mall, I decided to get some Auntie Anne sugar cinnamon sticks - an unavoidable treat for every trip to a shopping mall. Sitting at a plastic bench still haunted by the odeur of fast food (I would say Chicken McNugget, fries, and a large order of Coke!), I was suddenly intrigued by the couple next to me. As the man was looking through the shopping bags, the woman checked off a list of gift items written neatly on a pieace of pink post-it. At the end of the stock-taking exercise, she let out a tiny, albeit tiring, smile, reaffirming the man of some little girl who would be very surprised receiving these gifts.

Then, I suddenly forgot about the river of exhausted human beings flowing by me and thought of a family surrounding a Christmas tree full of presents. Despite all the pre-holiday angst and fatigue, at that very moment on Christmas Day, they would all be worth it when the receiver found some little surprise wrapped with love. And that, to me, more than these minutias, was what Christmas represented - a season of love for everyone.