My Mucous Just Cares For Me

I am bored out of my sodding brain, which makes me incredibly nervous.. as generally when i’m bored I like to make trouble for entertainment. And as i’m here, living in an environment which is covered in cameras and bound by an 8 page legal contract that pays me a lot of money, it’s really not in my best interest to make any trouble. Thank God at 31 i’m able to rein in the beast.. because ten years ago this hotel would have had to deal with a whole HEAP of trouble. It’s like being on Big Brother.. but not being watched by 6 million people, and not having to communal shower. 

Tonight, I’m sorry to say, in my brief singing career, I lost my voice. Three weeks of singing 4 hours a night – went out, got drunk, smoked cigarettes, caught bird flu a WEEK AGO and tonight.. TONIGHT! No voice. See you later alligator. Opened the old gob and nada came out. And anything that DID come out was not what I expected at all. I now feel a strange kinship to the male race and their unruly pubescent utterings.

Made the call this morning and started a course of antibiotics.. thank god. So hopefully by Monday if I don’t speak at all for two days i’ll be a bit better. Unholy nightmare.. fuck bird flu.

So the band came through with the goods tonight, and filled in for me – as I was actually totally unable to sing at all after more than 2 songs in a row. The bass player was delighted I think, as he got to belt out Careless Whispers and Strangers in the Night. The Spaniard turned up again, and tried to make a date with me for the flower market in the morning.. but I declined due to illness (thank GOD for the germs). He squirmed around in his seat for a while, and then wrote down his room number as he’s leaving tmrw and told me i’m missing out if I don’t hang out with him. Amazing how that wedding ring flashed in the ambient light every time he moved.. Fucking men. Enough to make a heterosexual romantically orientated woman want to kill herself immediately. He’s actually very very nice, very charming, very attractive. But that is worth half a pinch of nothing when you’ve made a promise to someone you are meant to LOVE, that you have CHILDREN WITH,  to keep your penis in your pants.

On the whole married subject, it seems that the habit of complete strangers commenting on my relationship status or lack thereof as SOON as I step foot out of lethargic Australia extends into Hong Kong as well. The Spaniard wanted to know what was wrong with me – as apparently someone as lovely as me being single was unheard of and it was obviously my fault I wasn’t married (possibly something to ponder). Then as I made a quick getaway after the gig clutching stacks of music books and teetering around in a sweaty malaise on my high heels towards the lifts a pair of Indian guys stopped me and wanted to know why I wasn’t married. My stock standard answer is going to have to do fine, and I may have to learn it in 30 languages.. “Nobody’s asked me”.. “nessuno ha chiesto”..

I might put in an “I have virulent Syphilis” in there too.. maybe I can get a phrasebook to help me. I’ve heard they’re out there. But now.. with my lack of voice, aching muscles and hyperactive brain I suppose i’d better go to bed. Wheee.

Valse of the Valkyries

Right. Well i’m in Hong Kong – it’s been three weeks now and i’m about ready to start blogging.  With great trepidation as I have such an overwhelming urge to speak the truth, the whole truth so help me god.. that I fear i’ll get in a bit of tribble. Mind you, nobody reads this anyway.. so whatever.

Tonight, I was given 2 presents by old business men of varying degrees of attractiveness. On a scale of old business men – one was pretty hot. On a scale of young guys my age that I find sexually attractive and would like to take my kit off for.. neither did so well. Big fails on both counts.. tho the Spaniards accent gets bonus points.. an accent that incorporates a lisp – whoot.

One guy, a very sweet sweaty American, gave me a Kiehls bag – and I thought “OH MY GOD… FACIAL PRODUCT” (being an aficionado of every girl orientated cleanser, mattifier, exfoliator, buffer and whatnot I can get my grubby hands on) . It was, an exciting moment. Unfortunately I opened it and discovered bags of Hershey’s Kisses.. which, being chocolate – was ok.. but which, referencing a prelude to intercourse – ie: the kiss – which was mentioned twice by the sweaty American as I nibbled on the candy, was not okay.  A lovely man, he advised that once i’d “finished the music part of my life” he’d be very happy to keep me in a fabulous manner and allow me to do whatever I wanted for the rest of my life as he was loaded. He then had a bout of gas and had to leave, telling me (literally) that he needed time alone so he didn’t add a percussive element to the music.  Thoughtful.

The other guy, who out of the two, was the hot one – and not only because he’s from Barcelona, was mortified that I would be alone at Christmas – and so produced out of his knapsack (which was an Israeli brand called Kapa or something.. very cool) a white watch he bought in China.. probably destined for his wife or daughter.. but being a watch fanatic I had NO qualms about taking that one thank you very much. He has a matching black watch and will be hanging out by the pool all day tmrw no doubt as I said I was looking forward to going for a swim.

What else to report? Not much really. I’ve contracted a case of Bird flu, and though i’ve been told that it’s incredibly inappropriate to call it Bird Flu when it’s just a common rhinovirus.. I will continue to call it Bird Flu if not only for the rest of my contract here.. but quite possibly for the rest of my life. It was entirely my own fault contracting this particularly virulent case of SARS as I went out after my last shift and drank copious amounts of booze, then decided it would be a GREAT idea to smoke cigarettes too. Other brilliant notions that popped into my noggin over the evening / morning involved disrobing at a club after dancing with a 6 foot tall transexual angel and then losing my top – allowing me the great priviledge of coming back to the hotel at 9:30am with a red headed tongue wrestling skateboarding techno DJ in nothing but my bra.

No wonder I have the bird flu.

The last time I went out, I woke up at 3pm the following day with a massive hangover, a trashed hotel room  – with a bra in my vegetable curry and reindeer antlers stuck to my face. Hong Kong, my friends, is a dangerous place. FRAUGHT with danger. Luckily I am flat broke, have no friends and am sick so this week have managed to avoid any bad behaviour.. though I feel tmrw night may encourage me to throw caution to the wind and break free of my self imposed house arrest.