An unexpected turn of events

I'm in turmoil. I'm a mess. My world has been turned upside down by something that I couldn't have predicted and I don't know what to do. I should just come out and say it, to confess: I've fallen in love.

Well, I say "love" but it's more like obsession. I try not to think about it, I try to stay away from the places that I know I'll come into contact... but it's so difficult. Something - some compulsion - drives me on, even though I know what I'm doing is wrong. The object of my obsession is slim, chic, sophisticated... everything I could want, really. The object of my obsession is a Samsung Galaxy Note 10.1.

I know what you're thinking: I'm a terrible person. I've been faithful to Apple for years now: the iPhone, the iPad, the MacBook Pro... they're all lovely and I still love them. But recently, I don't know; I just haven't been feeling it as much. It's like the spark has gone out. And then there was that whole maps thing; it just feels like maybe we've reached the end of the road. Maybe it's time to move on.

I haven't consummated the affair yet but it's getting more and more difficult to resist. Everyone's doing it - everyone here seems to have a Samsung of some sort or another and I've always been a sucker for a stylus and some decent handwriting recognition software. And there's just something so indescribably gorgeous about it, especially in white. I'm looking at one right now. I don't think I can hold on much longer...

Oh, I forgot...

One thing I forgot from the last entry, on the changes over the last month.  At that first video, my favourite song, the one I couldn't stop listening to, was this:

And currently my musical obsession is this:

Times change :)

A Tale of Two Barbies

Until last night, the last time I went to a barbecue was on the 1st of February this year.  It was a small affair - just four of us, enjoying a few beers, some good food and the view of Happy Valley from Mr and Mrs L's rooftop garden.

Mr L has a fantastic (and really quite big) barbecue and the food was excellent.  I was living the high life - quite literally, as you can see from the view.  But at that point, I was living alone in Banbury, had no visa, very little work and was, to be quite honest, not feeling great about going back home or about life or the future in general.

Last night, exactly eight months later, I went to another barbecue - a very different one.  In place of the gas-powered behemoth (which, incidentally, I secretly covet), we had some charcoal, some bricks and some wire mesh.  Instead of the view of Happy Valley, we had a view of the low-rise houses surrounding us.  In place of the spacious rooftop, there were about a dozen of us, fitting into an area about a quarter of the size.  

But now I'm living, with S, in Hong Kong, have lots of work and feel happier and more positive than I can remember feeling in years.

I'm not trying to make a point about the income disparity in Hong Kong, although it's there, if you look for it.  HK is not a perfect place but very rich people and very poor people live side by side in many big cities.  I'm not trying to make some kind of student-politics class-war point about how you don't need big barbecues and stunning views to be happy - Mr & Mrs L have worked (and continue to work) hard and no one can begrudge them what they have; given the choice, believe me, I'd take the barbie and the view.

No, my point is that if you'd asked me on 1 February to predict what I would be doing and how I would be feeling on 1 October, there is no way on earth I would ever have been correct, no matter how many guesses I had.  In the intervening months, so much has changed - much of it good, some of it deeply painful.  Some I'm happy about, some makes me cry, even now.  But none of it could I have predicted.

And that's my point, I think.  Those two barbecues bookended a period of my life during which I underwent more changes than I could possibly have imagined, which have resulted in me being - overall - the happiest I think I've ever been.  So I guess my point is that, as trite as it sounds, you never know what's around the corner.  The future isn't set in stone, there's no predetermined fate for us.  As bad as things may be at any given point, nothing stays the same forever and there is always the possibility - perhaps even the probability - that things will improve.