My apartment is still a little sparse in the furnishing arena. Imagine expansive white walls that make the living room furniture look smaller than it actually is. The space could house two bowling lanes; it’s expansive. So, a trip to the furniture market was in order.
I got on a bus with 17 of my co-workers and we sped off for a factory near Foshan. We met Mandy, the furniture lady and were given 15 minutes to use the bathroom (which involved squatting and a bucket and lots of hand sanitizer) and to look at the showroom. When the 15 minutes was up, we hopped back on the bus and headed for the factory that makes Mandy’s furniture. This was just as thrilling as the trip to the kitchen market. I wandered three floors of chairs, benches, bed frames, cabinets, curios, desks, dressers and chests. About $700 later, I settled on two Tibetan style reproduction antique pieces that have found a very good home with me. Much furniture love here in The Penthouse. I arranged with the factory to deliver the furniture and I think she will be calling Lin to get things moved in tomorrow. There will be pictures. This stuff could change my Mom’s mind about Asian furniture. I’m just saying.
After I dropped a wad of cash on cabinets and dressers, I then proceeded to spend a little more on some ceramics. I followed the trip organizer to a dusty antique store and dug through piles of dishes and other gems. As I climbed over old furniture and 19th century knick-knacks, I spotted a vase in a case. It had the look of being expensive. It had two orange Foo Dogs (the dogs often seen guarding Buddhist temples) and as my eyes locked with theirs, I knew that I would be paying to take them home. The vase turned out to be an antique with an official looking seal on the bottom, which my shopping companions assured me was a good thing. It also had writing on it, and it turns out the vase was commissioned as a personal gift inscribed with a message for the recipient. Nice! Yes, I bought it. I am now a collector of antique Chinese Foo Dog Vases. Probably better than collecting stamps or cats.
As if shopping for home furnishings wasn’t enough to make my weekend a thrilling event, I was invited to a co-worker’s birthday party. He described the venue as “interesting.” Good word choice. It was held at a club called the 69 Bar (I am not making that up). I arrived with another co-worker and we were immediately ushered upstairs to the 2nd floor party area. I could not have imagined this place. It was phenomenal. At the top of the stairs, there was a go-go dancing cage, complete with a see-through floor (Mom, Grandma, don’t worry, I stayed out of the cage.) There were several pleather couches and strings of sparkly crystals hung from the ceiling. The light fixtures were a highlight. In addition to traditional chandeliers, there were also feather boa chandeliers. What, you may ask, is a feather boa chandelier? I will tell you. It was a cube shaped plastic lampshade completely covered in dusty pink feathers. I was immediately seized with the urge to make one for myself. Why did I leave my glue-gun in the States? There was also a fog machine. Unfortunately, it was not plugged in; a bitter disappointment to say the least.
I sat down on the couch and immediately gained an Italian boyfriend. He was even more persistent than last weekend’s Welshman. Within five minutes he declared “you are not married, that is a problem. I will help you solve it.” (I have a witness to that statement; I’m not making that up either) Too bad he already has a wife and seven kids.
As the night progressed, the Birthday Boy announced that he would be singing in five minutes, as he used to be a regular act at the 69 club. I have not been so entertained in a very long while. He took the stage and the crowd went crazy. The set included some C-Lo Green, a song in Cantonese and commenced with the classic “Baby” by a certain formerly floppy-haired Canadian teen music sensation. Chinese girls love the Bieber just as much as American Girls, to this I can attest. And, it was good singing. Given a different set of circumstances in the universe, Birthday Boy could have been Marky-Mark with his very own Funky Bunch. The evening ended with some dancing as my new Italian boyfriend admired me from afar. A good time was had by all.
A Justin Bieber side note: At Christmas time my Dad and I went to see the film True Grit. As we munched on popcorn waiting for the main attraction, a preview for the now classic Justin Bieber Never Say Never flickered onto the screen. I leaned over to my Dad and said “Guess what you’re getting for Father’s Day?” He laughed. 6 months later a package arrived for my Dad containing the just released movie. I gleefully anticipated this moment for months, as practical jokes often make the best presents. Unfortunately, Dad had forgotten our conversation and couldn’t understand why I thought he had Bieber Fever. I reminded him of our exchange and he got a good chuckle, but I’m pretty sure he now doubts my gift-giving abilities.
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