I've just come from the Bar at the Peninsula (at 3:30 in the afternoon) where the men next to me were discussing the lack of passion in Hollywood and on the other side, two suited Brits ordered a bottle of Dom. I fucking love it here.
I spent today wandering around Hong Kong Island with my dad and brother, discovering bizarre meat markets where they put 200 dead mice, or what I believe to be mice, in cages in some attempt to get us hungry. Jesus Christ. Who eats mice?
We also ran into people from Mill Valley at a street fair, which kind of freaked me out. If you can't be anonymous in an alley in Hong Kong, something's wrong with the world.
I left the boys to shop, finding a fabulous hot pink dress on sale at Marks and Spencer. Upon returning to the hotel room, having taken the Star Ferry alone and pretending I was in a movie, I modeled my new purchase for my brother.
"That's a cool dress. Was it expensive?"
"Not at all. It cost $500."
In Hong Kong, we spend "dollars."
But this $500 dress cost $60 US. The conversion is 1 to 8, so I've come up with a system so I can do the math quickly.
$100 HK = $12 US.
It's harder than it sounds. At least for me.
Tonight's some champagne cruise (not Dom, I assure you) put on by our hotel, and then Indian food across the harbor. I'm hoping to stay awake long enough so Alex and I can enjoy a nightcap on the rooftop bar, home to hookers and hobnobbers and hopefully, us.
Oh god, someone just came into the business center and asked for "a Western restaurant in the building."
I am highly conscious of representing my homeland with liberal grace and international awareness, and wish my countrymen would do the fucking same. You're in China, asshole. Live a little and have an goddamn eggroll...