Business has called me away to Shanghai for the next week.

Neil got back from a two and a half week trip to the US late on Thursday night.

I’m thrilled by this development. Honest, I am.

The hotel guarantees an Internet connection, but we shall see.

• had Thanksgiving dinner (was sorely disappointed at the relative lack of turkey)
• went to Trance
• slept all day (Neil was jetlagged, I was keeping him company)
• had dinner at Shakira
• watched AI (a bit twisted, don’t you think?)
• listened to How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb (twice) and Songs About Jane
• read Deception Point (like Ian Rankin, I enjoy Dan Brown’s style, but it’s getting a bit repetitive and predictable)
• watched Jackass (perfect candidates for the Darwin Awards, should never have children, etc. etc.)
• had an early dinner at Little Chilli
• had mint tea and pumpkin pie at The House

Tonight, Neil and I, Neil’s boss and his family, plus 400 of his closest friends (okay, I’m exaggerating — 200) will be tucking into a belated Thanksgiving dinner.

I’m so glad my first dinner date with Neil since his return from the US will be in a large ballroom full of people. Really, I’m ecstatic.

As a Scot and Singaporean respectively (in case you couldn’t tell who was who), Thanksgiving is not exactly a tradition we’ve observed since we were wee. As is my usual excuse, I’m only going for the food.

Who would turn down roast turkey, gravy, cranberry sauce, stuffing, pumpkin pie, and whatever other things are Thanksgiving dinner musts?

Happy Turkey Day (a day late).

Update: and Maria‘s just made me tear up.

Hi. Most of you know who I am, I’m the one people call a social butterfly and I run that website about Xiamen.

I’d like you to know something about me. I’m not a social butterfly. If I was to be a metaphor, wallflower would be more appropriate. I’m not quite painfully shy, but I’m much happier sitting in a corner and watching people interact rather than being well into a party.

Here’s something else. I did not have a good time being unemployed for over a year. Yes, Neil is in a good job and makes decent money, but when I was looking for a job, I wanted a real job that required actual work and use of my brain, something I enjoyed, maybe even a career-builder. Just because we live together doesn’t mean I don’t have to work — I need to earn and save money, too. I was depressed a lot and felt worthless.

(I do run that website about Xiamen, though, and I do it all by myself.)

I came to Xiamen about 18 months ago, and it’s as new to me as many of you. To answer the usual questions:

• Yes, I speak Chinese, I studied it in school. I’m not fluent, though.
• Yes, most of my family is from these parts. My mother’s side is from Fuzhou, but they moved to Sarawak. No, I don’t know when. My father’s family is from around Xiamen and Chaozhou (in Guangdong province), and they were the first generation to move to Singapore.
• Yes, I can understand some Minnanhua. I call it Hokkien. A lot of people in Singapore can speak Hokkien.
• Yes, I still have family here. I don’t know where or who they are, as my grandfather took that knowledge to his urn.

Why am I telling you this after 18 months, long after most of these questions have been asked and answered? Because I don’t think many of you will remember.

I don’t blame you, there are new people coming to Xiamen all the time. It must be quite confusing, to meet new people and to try and keep people’s names, faces, and occupations straight. I know I have a hard time now and again.

There is more to me than what you know. And I know there is more to you than what I know. I see you at the pubs and (what my sister calls) restobars, mostly every week, and we say, “Hi, how’s it going?” We chat and we move on. Some of you I like very much and I think we could really be friends. I wish I could discover more about your likes and dislikes, and actually buy you stuff you’d appreciate for your birthday (that’s another thing: when’s your birthday?) and Christmas.

I feel that I know a lot of you, but I don’t know many of you, if you know what I’m saying.

Not everyone likes to go out in a big group — I like the times when we can all actually talk to one another and no one has to fight for food (most will know about my preoccupation with food). I had Sunday brunch with some acquaintances the other day, and it was great. I learned more about K and J’s jobs, how they felt about their work, things that have happened to them (K lost his mobile phone again and got knocked off his feet by a bicycle). J’s girlfriend C has got a six-month tourist visa for her three-week trip to the UK, what a great consulate! We left with a, “Bye, see you around,” and I don’t have K’s phone number to call and say Let’s hang out.

And it’s not that I would call K to say Let’s hang out, I don’t think we have enough in common (he’s a middle-aged teacher with grown children, I’m a twenty-something geek with no children). But I don’t even have the chance to find out if we have nothing in common.

You know that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry says it’s hard to make new friends, to allow them into your space or group once you’ve got past a certain age? That whole friend quota thing. Maybe that’s what’s going on. Maybe we’ve all reached our friend quotas and there’s no room for any more.

It’s partly my fault, that whole wallflower thing again. I don’t think people know or like me enough to want to hang out if I call, so I don’t call. I feel like I’m intruding if I try to make plans, I don’t know enough about your lives to know if it’s okay to want to meet for a coffee. A vicious cycle is doomed to repeat itself.

I guess I’ll see you next time at the restobar, eh?

Sincerely yours,
Andrea

According to ANN, Singapore will lose its 7,000 textile jobs over the next few years as the scrapping of quotas takes effect.

… Singapore exports remain much more expensive than those from other countries. This is because labour costs here are high, and the number of workers with relevant skills is scarce.

Um. I think that means Singapore does not have a comparative advantage in the clothing manufacturing industry and we should get out. At least there are no signs of government protectionism; they’re too busy pouring money and public relations efforts into the semiconductor / sports / arts / biomedical science / etc., industry.

Proving that having any spare time at all is an evil thing. Neil gets back tonight and I have to go away on business early next week, so I decided to roll out my (practically) monthly redesign a little early.

My cousin delivered via C-section early this morning, Beijing time, to a little girl.

I look forward to seeing the bairn some time in the future, when I can afford to make a trip to Toronto. In the meantime, here are some online {{{hugs}}}.

David Timothy delivers food to the homeless every day in Texas.

He said he had contemplated opening a soup kitchen for a long time, partly because he knew what it was like to grow up poor and hungry, even though he’s never been homeless.

But when he realized nobody in Dallas wanted a soup kitchen in his back yard, Timothy and a friend came up with the idea of a mobile ministry, he said. In summer 2003, he bought his SoupMobile — a 1985 van with 265,000 miles on it — and started “taking the food to the homeless.”

Support SoupMobile, especially if you live in Texas.

Orchard Road set to become one of world’s greatest shopping streets:

Singapore hopes to turn Orchard Road into “one of the greatest shopping streets of the world”.
The Government is considering releasing vacant sites and car parks along Orchard Road for flagship retail stores or multi-concept lifestyle establishments comprising retail, food and beverage and entertainment facilities.

Existing planning and building guidelines will be reviewed to allow building owners greater flexibility in redeveloping existing properties through the creative use of space and intelligent designs.

Public infrastructure and pedestrian mall will also be improved, the overall pedestrian and street experience enhanced and more events introduced to inject greater vibrancy into Orchard Road.

What will the Remaking Orchard Road committee do about the consumers who wish to drive and park at Orchard Road? The last time I was back, it was still very difficult to find parking anywhere — what’ll happen if they eliminate some car parks? Boy, are people going to be disgruntled.

I wonder if the committee’s thought about how crowded Orchard Road already is on the weekend. Fucking hell, it’ll be sardine-packed if this works. Easy targets for pickpockets.

The Singapore government is thinking of extending the ban on smoking to cover bus stops, coffee shops and hawker centres.

Poor Ah Bengs and Ah Sengs. Poor Ah Lians. Poor teenage kiddies who want to be cool. Poor hipsters who think they’re cool.

There is a short piece about a new Korean mobile phone that uses fingerprint technology.

Instead of using the usual numeric PIN code, owners will have their fingerprints scanned to access and use the phone.

This also makes it difficult for others to break the code.

So there is no need to worry about unauthorised access to information when the phone is lost or stolen.

Unless, of course, a market in these phone chargers blooms and enough people have compatible chargers and the newly-’acquired’ phone need not be switched off.

Oh yeah, it’s got a camera, too, so thieves will be able to view any naked photos you take.

No need to worry, indeed.

… speaking out and thinking for themselves:

Wang Yi, a law professor at Chengdu University, and nationally published columnist, said the idea of public intellectuals threatened governmental authority in the one-party state.

Another concept corresponding to the notion of public intellectual is public politics, which is inevitably about dissent and even the forming of opposition forces, the newspaper quoted Wang as saying.

Malignant and shady characters such as university academics who educate the youth of today should never be allowed to have a voice.

There should be standard-issue earplugs in all offices in Xiamen. For one thing, when people are on the telephone, ear-splitting volumes when speaking appear to be essential ingredients for a successful conversation. Second, evergreen hits like It Never Rains in Southern California are mitigating circumstances for mass homicide.

(Playing Elvis’ Love Me Tender does not make things better, no matter how much I love The King.)

Update (1pm): Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton are singing Islands in the Stream. I should get hardship pay for this.

• had beef and chicken quesadillas (and a couple of yummy sangrias) at Havana
• made a stuffed elephant out of two socks
• had dinner with intrepid (here I mean willing to suffer the indignities known as overland transportation) journalist and writer Dan Washburn
• made Dan have drinks at The Orient and The Londoner while we watched England play South Africa in rugby
• had a ‘breakfast’ (at noon) of bacon and tomato sandwiches at Brown Sugar
• finished ‘breakfast’ at 3pm and went shopping
• came home with a new pair of jeans and preppy tweed blazer
• wandered around an old part of Xiamen with Dan (and had dinner at a Burmese restaurant)
• Put up my first sponsor’s ad on What’s On Xiamen (wahey!)

There is something seriously freaky — nay, slightly unnerving — about disposable thong underwear.

Dear Trevor,

Welcome to the world wide weird reality of Andrea’s sock dolls! You were created as a project for Loobylu’s A Month of Softies (and encouragement from Kristen). I had no patterns for an elephant, let alone an accessorised elephant, so I had to make one up using my imagination and negligible sewing skills.

You have been made with two different white socks. In fact, your body is made of the same sock that I used in my first attempt (aborted). I’d call you a clone if it wasn’t for the fact that your predecessor looked more like a gigantic butt plug than an elephant. Your coloured feet and eyes are from a scrap piece of sock left over from a previous project.

As I did with Dave not so long ago, I’d like to apologise, young Trev — for attaching your ears in a most lopsided manner and making your trunk look like you’ve had a botched nose job. However, I’ve tacked a stripey scarf round your neck to keep you warm this winter.

Love,
Mum