It seems like my Octogoal for writing here every day has been a failure of spectacular proportions. I churned out seven posts in the first 10 days of the month but since then the only thing being churned around here is a ball of stickish detritus rolling silently across the yawning maw of my silent wordless desert…ert…ert…ert…
(I just Googled for 10 minutes to try and find the name for balls of stickish detritus, by the way. Clearly to no avail.)
The main mitigating factor is that I’ve worked 12 of the past 13 days, often for 12+ hours; and also, Rufus turned 4 and we had a party for him here; and, mainly, I finally started watching Glee. And I mean I have watched 21 episodes over the past week. It’s consuming me, to the exclusion of all my other interests, and also my physiological needs. I don’t have the words to explain how much I love this show. Or the time. The only reason I’m on here right now is because I’m waiting for the next ep to rip. I’ll leave it to Maslow.
I wish I didn’t have to put Glee next to “excretion”; unfortunately my complete lack of design ability, combined with my mediocrity in that complex piece of software MS Paint, ensures that I can’t figure out anywhere else to put the arrow.
When not watching Glee or working, we’ve been not at all suffering the effects of Typhoon Megi, which is incredibly disappointing. The “typhoon 3” warning has been hoisted plenty of times since we’ve been here, and also in years past when I’ve been here visiting dad, but I’m yet to experience a typhoon. Apparently a few years ago some people died when a typhoon swept unexpectedly through Hong Kong, so now the Observatory issue “T3” warnings at the first rustle of a light breeze. But this time seemed different. The South China Morning Post published a special edition heralding Typhoon Megi as the worst tropical storm in 30 years, with the force of Hurricane Katrina. T3 came into place on Thursday, so everyone would have time to prepare before Megi made landfall sometime on Saturday. Apart from just wanting to experience a typhoon, I was also totally pumped because, in some pretty irregular scheduling, I was booked for a job on Saturday. And no-one likes suiting up on a Saturday, particularly when they’ve already worked the previous 10 days and their fingers are showing definite signs of carpal tunnel syndrome.
Thursday night was spent securing our outdoor furniture and moving pot plants inside. Neighbours were hammering their windows shut. Officials of every type started wearing hard hats. I smiled radiantly at my fellow potential typhoonees in Wellcome as we stocked up on candles and tinned provisions.
The wind and rain had been picking up all afternoon and there was a general eeriness descending over Lung Mei. The sky looked like a thin grey blanket with a floodlight behind it. After dark, once the kids were in bed, I stepped out onto our balcony. The wind was noisy and Mr Kong’s maid was laying down huge pot plants that were too big to go inside; but otherwise, it was incredibly silent. I thought that even if I didn’t get to experience a typhoon, this was definitely the calm before the storm. The air felt thick and warm, but not humid like it usually does here. I felt I had to push through it. That was probably the dense particulate matter from all the pollution now that I think about it, but it felt prescient of something at the time. I stayed out there looking down over Lung Mei, my hair fluttering behind me like a long untethered pennant. The next thing to flutter was my short nightie, and with that inappropriate display of jaxie to the unsuspecting inhabitants of Wang Kong Tsuen down the hill, I slipped back in to bed. Where I stayed up all night watching Glee on my phone, because NO WORK TOMORROW DUE TO CATASTROPHIC METEOROLOGICAL PHENOMENON, WHOO!
Upon waking I reached immediately for my phone, seeking the little purple “T8” in the corner. (“T8” means the suspension of public transport and civilian vehicular travel, and cancellation of schools/work).
IT SAID “T1”! Which basically means nothing.
I hopped onto the computer to check out latest meteorological advice, to be confronted by this appalling graphic. Megi wasn’t coming after all. The fucker had virtually done a U-turn overnight.
As I raced over to Hong Kong Island, the only furious cloud of atmospheric pressure was immediately around my person as I frantically attempted to be on time for my job. Otherwise, all was as calm as I have ever seen. Leaves hung statically from trees. Big-building doormen had their hair on display and their hard hats back in the cupboard.
I was asleep by 10am, which was unprofessional because I was taking someone’s cross-examination at the time. All complaints should be directed to the Hong Kong Observatory.