Aventurina King

Here are the basics of my life in Beijing this Summer 2008:

I live in Season’s Park, an apartment complex in the East center of Beijing right across from the Embassy neighborhood. I moved in during the first week after its construction ended May 08.
The complex has a swimming pool, a gym, a few fountains, an artificial lake with over-sized plastic water lilies. There is a legion of stray cats and 24 hour concierge service. Guards, “bao an,” wear spotless white shirts, black pants and black sailors hats.

I wake up late in the morning. My studio’s floor-to-ceiling windows face West onto the Beijing skyline. The sunlight sifts through the drawn curtains. Eyes half open, I grope under my pillow for my American blackberry. My white kitten Davy (full name: Alexandre Dumas Davy de la Pailleterie) claws his way up onto the bed to say hello.

By midday I have decided which coffee shop I will make my work headquarters. If I am feeling lazy, then I cross my apartment complex towards the East and ease into the armchairs of the Red Hotel’s coffee shop, accross Chun Xiu Road. The coffee shop is run by a spectacled Chinese man whose face is round and open like an Indian Buddha’s. In the morning, a short, charming waitress with chipmunklike features, Si Si, makes me the world’s best iced capuccino: three quarters of the glass is thick milk foam. I cut through it with my spoon, it’s like eating cloud.

Si Si and I used to have a squealing fits over handsome Ming Dao, the lead of Taiwanese TV series “The Prince Becomes the Frog.” Lately Si Si tells me about her favorite Korean TV show, how it keeps her awake until late at night, how she starts work at 6AM.

If I have downloaded some make-your-booty-move pop songs–example: Will.I.Am “One More Chance,” Madonna “Miles Away,” Rihanna “Disturbia”–onto my ipod, I’ll do the 20 minute walk over to San Li Tun. San Li Tun neighborhood mainly consists of a street jam-packed with over-priced foreign-owned bars and restaurants. On the South of this more commonly named Bar Street is the Bookworm coffee shop. It’s the notorious place for foreigners to hang it, and is therefore avoided by weathered Beijing expats. It has a pricy Western food menu and unbearable waiters. The rumor has it they are cold, humorless and ungenerous because they are underpaid and mistreated: an extra shot of milk in your tea will be one US dollar thank you.

I favor a French restaurant, Le Petit Gourmand, tucked in a small road parallel to the Bar Street. It has a patio, red satin covered booths and wall to wall to wall bookshelves. I slip into my favorite booth and begin typing. Why is it my favorite booth? Because the Hollywood spoof novel “Get Shorty” is within hands reach when I’m tired of looking at the screen.

to be continued …

Julia Allison is the 26-year old dating columnist of Time Out New York, and her website, NonSociety, features videos of her and two young female business partners lip-syching, dancing in Times Square, and plowing through tutu dresses and diamond necklaces.

I agree with a few things Allison writes in her columns. The importance of being yourself: I translate that meaningless string into “being honest” (which is another thing she mentions). Being honest with other people: when you don’t want someone in your life, it’s not time for them to be in your life and you need to have the courage to tell them. Being honest with yourself: taking time to understand precisely why you, for instance, are mad at someone. (90% of the time I discover anger is within me, triggered by memories of painful similar situations, over-sensitivity, remnants of an adolescent willingness to please etc…).

Jullia Allison takes honesty to the next level by writing about the most personal features of her life. I admire her for fearlessly exposing her weakest spots. It hurts when someone tells you you’ve failed on a professional level, but it takes reckless self-assurance to be unphased by someone snickering at your romantic mishaps.

But Allison pitches all these valuable life lessons as “you need to learn these to get yourself a hot date.” First, if you are confident and self-assured ie emotionally self-sufficient and independent, why would you need to cram your schedule with dates? The path to a stable, healthy relationship is learning that spending an evening home blogging, or an hour video skyping with your best girlfriend is just as fun (and often sometimes more) as spending two hours at dinner, analyzing the smallest snicker or most insignificant flat joke in search of soulmate symptoms.

Then, the dating=self-promotion interview collection : reading this, I’m gathering this is how dating works in NY. The downtown bar is crammed with young white-collars protectively wielding blackberries. You get noticed, not because of the high-heels that you can barely walk in (nobody can see those), but because of your backless-frontless minidress. You stand next to one of the blackberry shields and seductively let your body pulsate to the 80s mix. And then suddenly, one of them lowers his shield and takes a jab. You’ve prepared your repartee: “I like eating bananas over whole-wheat bread. I’m quirky, I like S&M parties.” And he, wowed by your self-assurance and honesty, orders you a $20 cosmo with his BB, simultaneously punching in your phone number. Ensues the fancy dinner dance which leads straight to an upper-east side apt, 2 beautiful kids and many, many a day shopping at Bloomingdales.

What part does the other play when you are promoting yourself? In my experience, the most “fruitful” conversations were those in which I took a sincere interest in the other person. If you are dating to find someone who can maximize your happiness and vice versa, then learning more about the person in front of you should be the first step (even though nothing can replace patiently enjoying plenty of time together). If you are dating to avoid facing yourself, then anything, including self-obsessed conversation is a valid distraction.

(disclaimer: my behavior is nowhere near the squeaky clean standards I’m promoting in this post, but I do my best)