rhinorrhea: a runny nose
logorrhea: talkativeness

Yesterday, there was a funeral for a top guy in one of the firms I work at. I didn’t attend, mainly because I wasn’t invited, because I’m not important enough, but even if I were, I would have had to skip church and commit idolatry, worshipping his dead body as a newborn god.

This morning, the CEO spoke to all the employees, admonishing them thus.

One of the worst things you can do at a funeral is chat with other people. It doesn’t matter if you meet people you know. Funerals are not weddings, and there should be no small talk. Above all, there must be absolutely no smiling. Smiling at a funeral is not only impolite, it is shameful to our firm.

And he went on to talk about business matters.

I should have known about what he said, but I was surprised anyway. All the funerals I’ve been to were church funerals. People were sad and serious, but there were always smiles, sparkling with tears, shining with peace and joy.

That’s the difference between children of Satan and children of God, those who know in their heart of hearts they are on their way to hell and those with assurance they are on their way to heaven.

Bind your blog into a book.

The background picture was taken at The Landmark in Hong Kong. It was so filled with expensive-looking stores and expensive-looking people I felt really out of place.

Mama said I should take the local trains to the airport instead of the express, because it would be about $20 cheaper, and if I could have figured out which train to take from among those going to a myriad destinations, I would have been just fine, but of course, I got on the wrong one. Anway, after a few tries, I finally got to the airport barely in time to pick up my boarding pass, 1 minute late instead of 60 minutes early.

- I’m sorry, we don’t have any more economy class seats available …
- (Aaaaargh. Pleeeease. Noooo. My ticket is not refundable. I hate local trains! I’m never getting on one again, never-never-never!)
- … would you mind going by business class?
- (Would I mind? Are you kidding? Wow! Thank you, God!)

So, I boarded before all the poor folk, who had to wait until I got comfortable.

- Miss Smith, would you like something to drink?
- (Wow, they know my name?) What do you have?
- Water, tea, blah, blah, blah, champagne, cocktails, blah, blah, blah.
- Umm. Champagne, please.
- Maybe you would like to have a mimosa?
- What is it?
- Champagne and orange juice.
- Yeah, that sounds good.

My mimosa arrived. And then the economy class started filing in. After one issue of PC World, a couple more cocktails, and a movie, I fell asleep.

Hong Kong … the heat and humidity were beyond bearing. The air was so thick that breathing it loaded my lungs with water as I pushed my way through. I walked 5 minutes and my T-shirt stuck to my skin, slick and sweat-soaked. For 10 days, I wandered the streets, hungry and lost, riding buses and trams, taking pictures.

Thanks to Mary-Katherine, I had a royally refrigerated room to sleep in at night. I met some of her friends, and their friends. She also introduced me to mint chocolate martinis, my new favourite drink, usurping the place of an iced Tully’s latte spiked with maraschino liqueur.

OK, so I wasn’t lost and hungry the whole time. Whenever I found food, it was like a dream. Forget the stuff they call Chinese in Japan or America. The real thing is entirely different. You know we will be eating Chinese food in heaven for all eternity … and chocolate, of course.

On Sunday, I went to St. John’s Cathedral. It was beautiful and practically empty. There were fewer than 10 people at the service. Afterwards, I bought a calfskin leather bound edition of the Book of Common Prayer.

All in all, it was a good trip. Next time, I’m going to take a guidebook.

One of my older students had a friend whose father was a fortune-teller. Before the attack on Pearl Harbour, the Japanese air force called him in. Just imagine…

- We, the Japanese people, the divine race, are about to wage war on inferior humans to subject them to our emperor, the Sun God. So, are we gonna win or not?
- Oh, yes, yes. We will win. Of course we are.

What else could the poor man say? He knew if he predicted anything but great victory, he would be put to death immediately. The whole class couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the story. If you ask someone something, but intend to kill the person unless he gives you the answer he wants, then what’s the point?

Remember Ahab and Zedekiah (I Kings 22)? Evil people are all the same: absurdly hilarious.

Forgive me, friends. It has been 20 months since my last entry.

Eight of those months were spent in a wilderness abounding in lovely late-night homework, faithful friends, showers of brides and babies, discussions about Christian liberty and legalism, and jolly good fun.

The rest of the time was spent in the cement jungles of Tokyo, where there are lots of computer parts, good food, and much working and weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Bloggers … they always come back. The dead frog has died again. I’m back.