the name game

am i rejecting my roots just because i have an english name and i introduce myself as such? or are they the racist ones? just because i am chinese and i obviously look chinese, the only immediate logical assumption is that i picked this name for myself, trying to pass off as being from the western world, conforming to the idea of 'white supremacy' as a desperate attempt to assimilate into european culture? for some reason, unknown to me, it seems more and more that the people i talk to prefer my chinese name. its as if my look and my name has to match, it's as if i'm an inanimate object that has no choice and intelligence option as to what i want to be called. i'm not a lamp, a lamp is called a lamp, that's how we know it. but i am me. a person, living, breathing, with a working brain. so what if i picked the name karen, which i did not, it's on my passport, my parents gave me that name and i love it. and yes, i like my chinese name too, for some time i didn't i admit, but now i do. i love being chinese, and i love my name. but somehow the chinese name doesn't sound as poetic when you say it in its 'english way'. and i think when people hear me introduce myself as li yan, they hear it as leeann. and they go oh that's a much lovelier name for you. since when did you have the right to decide which name goes better with me, it's not a necklace or a blouse, it's my name. and furthermore, you're saying it wrong. it's li yan, 2 words, not one. but you know what, i'm just playing, i felt like writing something. i'm not making a big deal out of nothing, i just thought it was interesting. and i am gonna introduce myself as li yan from now on. that's gonna be fun. and.... i'm out!

a familiar face

sometimes i get stumped when faced with an empty page, because before i put my thoughts into words i'm thinking how do i organized my jumbled mess of ideas into a coherent and articulate piece of writing. then i stop. eureka! i don't have to, it's a blog not an essay writing competition. although if you like to think that way then it would be a competition for 6 year olds and i would win, which honestly does not say much about my literary skills or lack thereof. but i digress, like i always do. so yes, if you're looking to read a well put together article with big words that you don't understand, then look no further. just buy newsweek. i'm just here to entertain. my boss is now in amsterdam on a business trip, actually the whole gang will arrive on thursday morning and we are going to have an awesome time. there already are parties and events lined up for these guys and belive me, i'm going to try my absolute best to crash all of these events and get drunk and high with cute race car drivers. (god please let them be cute) on a sappy note, it was really nice to see anand again and have a good chat. like chris said, it's always nice to see someone from home. before i met anand, i was trying hard to finish my numerous small assignments yesterday night and then i realised halfway through that it was my first night in since stepping foot in the land of canals. amazing. and it was nice, just a chill out night, me and virgin radio fighting the sleep demon and its yawn attacks. i have no crazy stories at the moment, but i do know a ton of gossip though. ooooh i love gossip, it makes life worth living, and please don't take me at face value for this. i do not live for gossip, but boy do i love those bitchy moments. just this night, girl A said that she finished 2 boxes of cruesli in one sitting, albeit 3 hours long. but still, 2 boxes of cruesli. where does that girl put it? i guess when your heart's pumping so fast from the adrenalin (read: hash), you burn it all off faster. hmmm, maybe that can be the new diet. presenting the new diet of the moment. hash bonbons. sastify that sweet tooth and drop pounds in the blink of an eye. just take a bonbon after every meal, 3 times a day. satisfaction and happiness guaranteed. note: nausea is normal and do not reject emesis.

pictures!

dancing in the PHK courtyard

feeding richie weed

conquering a boat

grafitti all over the elevator walls

old disgusting man

how much can you give

how can you love someone so much you're willing to change everything. erase the past to start a new one. change your face. dye your hair. burn away your fingerprints.

you can't spell cruseli without crack

cruseli. it's the greatest! when you're high, cruseli is the ultimate fix. it just gets you. i swear that cruseli is addictive, it's like museli with crack. little crack clusters floating in your bowl of milk. today's late night hang out session turned into a good 10 mins of profound insight into the cruseli obsession. chris came up with most of the 'findings', of course, they were all sexual (a side effect of his impending lose of this bet him and his roommate, richie, has. by the end of the month, which is in about a week's time, the one who hasn't got laid would have to make a trip down to the red light district). so of course chris is all crazy, his hormones raging inside him, and this bet has made it worse, so now every girl is a potential. but anyways, back to the cruseli. so there were many jokes. chris: you'd just get a bowl of cruseli right with a spoon, give it to a prostitute, pay her 50 euros to eat it, then sit in one corner and jerk off! hell, bring a box of cruseli, dump it on her then arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh lick that shit off! that was the funniest thing i've ever heard, of course i was flying high in the sky, and everything was funny. remi snapping his fingers at me just triggered me off, it was like on cue. really, it's an amazing feeling to feel so happy.

i realised i haven't updated this blog in a while, so i decided to do it twice in one night.

i've been great, for all who are wondering, or for those who care.

i was sittng on the bridge yesterday with sebastian, smoking, at night. and at that moment i felt so free, honestly, literally free from physical restrains, and mentally free. for that one moment, i was so relaxed. it was absolutely divine.

i love this place, i don't want to go back in feburary, or whenever it is that i have to go home. the life here is so independent and vigorous.

i love riding on my bike, not that it's a great bike or looks really pretty, i love that feeling when your'e on the bike, the cold wind freezing your face up, going somewhere yet going nowhere. there's just something so poignant about it.

need your help

i'm gonna write a book.

so here's what i need, and you guys can help, i'll mention your name in my book, that is tentatively going to be callled "Excuse me, i don't mean to bother you but i'm absolutely unable to lick my balls"

if you know of any special moves that you have to get chicks, please tell me. it could be your move, your mate's move, any thing.


p.s. you would be contributing largely to the field of cultural and gender studies with your input.

please spread the word around, and really, i want to know.

email : karenheng@gmail.com

put your hands up for detriot, i love this city

amsterdam is cool.

many weird people.

good parties, every day of the week.

club 11, just a 5 min walk away.

straining to decipher a scottish accent.

hanging out with whom i believe is a borderline klepto, but he gets me my pebbles and pepper.

100 euros to bribe a bouncer.

tipping the bouncer.

le teeth.

hoping my roommate will show up tomorrow.

it's just cool.