Dear Me on 1 January 2004,

Did you ever imagine you’d start a magazine with two other people, let alone write and publish it yourselves? Did you think that you’d have to change your telephone number because the government, pressured by a jealous non-rival, was calling to harass you about shutting it down? Did it occur to you that you’d be the only one to doggedly go on, publishing online and getting What’s On Xiamen to regularly appear on the first page of search results for ‘Xiamen’?

Did you think it was possible to be depressed for such a long time over being unemployed? Why did you never think of approaching that fashion company that seems to have hired every expatriate in Xiamen at one point or another? Did you think they would think you were even qualified to work for a fashion company, considering the way you normally dress? Did you think wearing long sleeves to work every day in the summer was even possible?

Did you satisfy your web design ‘clients’? Did you think one of them would try to rip you off in a poorly transparent manner? Did you satisfy yourself while constantly re-designing your own website?

Did you, ever in your life, consider that you would be with one person for almost three years (and counting)? Had it occurred to you that it was possible to be in love with one person for this long? Did you imagine that seeing this person grin at you could make you smile day after day? Had you thought that being held by this person continues to be, by far, the best feeling in the world?

Did you think there would be that many people hectoring you to get married? Did you think there would be people even assuming you were married?

Whoa, scary!

Here are my wishes for 2005. I resolve to be kinder and more thoughtful. At the same time, I also resolve to be snarkier, because that is a different thing altogether. I hope to see more of my family next year. I very much would like to be able to make it to a very special wedding in a faraway land. And eat more cheeseburgers.

Love,
Me on 31 December 2004

Well *sigh* okay…

Three names you go by: Andrea, Ing, Cheeky Bam

Three screennames you have: serialdeviant (of course), andrea_see, jetgrrl

Three things you like about yourself: how easy I am to entertain, my enthusiasm (when it’s sparked), my calf muscles

Three things you dislike about yourself: my attention span, my (true) eating habits, the scar on my belly button from two failed navel piercings

Three parts of your heritage: erm… Xiamen (or thereabouts), Chaozhou, Fuzhou

Three things that scare you: monsters (roaches) in the kitchen cabinets, losing my keys, breaking stuff

Three of your everyday essentials: woolly socks (it’s cold right now), tea with lemon, yoghurt

Three things you are wearing right now: blue jeans, black jumper, Doc Martens

Three of your favorite bands/artists (at the moment): Maroon 5, Snow Patrol, Ben Folds

Three things you want to try in the next 12 months: more crafting of some description, getting and using an elliptical trainer at home, making more websites

Three things you want in a relationship (love is a given): honesty, kindness, good conversation

Two truths and a lie (random order): love computers, hate computers, poor hand-eye coordination

Three physical things about the opposite (or same) sex that appeals to you: short hair, taller than me (not hard), nice smile

Three things you just can’t do: eat liver, cook without extensive help, stay away from the computer

Three of your favorite hobbies: playing with website layouts, writing stuff and nonsense, reading a good book

Three things you want to do really badly right now: have a pee, find a heater, get a hot drink

Three careers you’re considering: volunteer extraodinaire, webmaster, top shagger (just kidding about the last one)

Three places you want to go on vacation: Australia (across the Nullabor), New Zealand (Gisborn - hi Reuben!), Venezuela (Wee Derek’s dead popular for this post)

Three kids names: Ross, Neil, Dave (of course)

Three things you want to do before you die: run a marathon (may never happen), climb a mountain, snowboard

Three people who have to take this quiz, or not: Neil, Bailz, Terry

As the death toll tops 117,000, there’s less and less one can say. ‘Heartsick’ just about covers it.

Donate, donate, donate.

As we all prepare to celebrate the New Year, what better way to observe Hogmanay than dress as a Viking and set a ship on fire?

An estimated 68,000 now dead in the weekend’s earthquake and tsunamis. Being fairly young and Singaporean, therefore unaccustomed to natural disasters near home, I’m struggling to imagine the scale of destruction and the heartbreak that has been caused.

As it has been clearly emphasised in all the news stories, the grave danger now is disease.

There isn’t really anything I can say about making donations without sounding like an arse, so here’s a link to Network for Good instead, which links to many aid agencies who have mobilised to help the victims.

Update: from Kristen in the comments, here’s a link to the International Rescue Committee’s donations page — one of their benefactors will match donations dollar for dollar (up to US$1,000) until 31 December 2004.

Yeah. So. It’s been pretty quiet around here.

I honestly thought no one noticed, then I got this comment from Paul, asking if I’d given up posting to this site. *Sniff* Someone cares!

No, I haven’t given up. I’ve just been kind of blocked in the writing part of my brain lately (let’s not even mention how blocked I’ve been feeling in other parts of my body). Mainly because the time I used to use absorbing the sights, sounds, and quirks of Xiamen is now taken up by that pesky thing known as a job. Which, I suppose, is a writeable topic in itself:

Why is it that when one works in Xiamen (or is it China in general), THE BOSS, no matter who they are or where they’re from, because they pay you a salary, they own your arse? All 24 hours of your day belong to them to use as they please, it seems.

But enough about that. My more recent observations in China are a variation on things I have covered before, so I’m hesitant to waffle on much further about them. Anecdotes, I have many. Long pieces musing on living in Xiamen, I have none.

One thing I was terribly amused with this morning was watching a man dash across the street, three lanes on either side, but pausing mid-stride to hock up a big loogie and turn his head to expel it.

Thanks to Dan of The Shanghai Diaries, I now have a name for the absolutely delightful practice of blowing your nose onto the street (tissue, what’s that?) — snot rockets. The other thing to do with boogers requires testing of the following hypothesis: do Chinese people grow their fingernails long and unsightly because they think it looks good, because it’s better to pick their noses with?

There are a lot of roaches in my office. Not a day goes by without a colleague shrieking (or squeaking) about discovering a nest of little roaches chilling out in, say, an inkpot (this actually happened). There is not much food lurking around the office, so the one species of bug I hate the most in the world feeling so attracted to this one room where I spend a lot of time leads me to suspect a conspiracy of sorts.

As for conspiracies, I suspect fashion companies not only want to make consumers feel unairbrushed and desirous of retail therapy, they do the same to their employees. My colleagues seem to take delight in telling one another (I am not spared) how to dress, how to match their clothes, what shoes to wear, and so on. I did not carefully cultivate my wardrobe colour choices (all the better for getting dressed in the dark) for them tell me that I should wear [this colour and style] with [this colour and style].

One of our favourite Chinese (Sichuan) food restaurants is clearly a family business, from grandmother sitting dowager-like outside the restaurant to the little rugrat dashing about and being, well, a rat. A friend calls him ‘The Little Shitter’. That whole public defecation thing again. Just the thing to get you in the mood to tuck into some hot and spicy strips of dry-fried beef.

This morning I heard a member of a local council on the radio claiming that the state of roads in its area, potholes and damage notwithstanding, was not its responsibility — it was wholly the responsibility of the residents to watch where they were going. Try to get away with that in the US!

A bunch of us saw an unidentified flying object last week. It sure as hell wasn’t a plane, and as far as I’m aware, Xiamen is not a launchpad for the Chinese space agency. I was hoping for a missile (and wondering where Taiwan was located relative to where we were), but my imagination was dashed when I was told it was moving too slowly. Rocket? Missile? Aliens looking to outsource their production?

Um, you can go back to what you were doing now.

People I can safely dislike: those who walk into a Xinjiang Muslim noodle house, order a pork pancake, and express utter disbelief that it’s not available.

The death toll from the tsumanis has passed 22,000, with thousands more still missing. I heard a secondhand eyewitness account last night.

A friend of a friend survived the tidal wave in Phuket. He was on the beach, and he actually saw the wave coming. He hightailed it to his hotel and ran up the stairs. The floor he ended up on was flooded, but not devastated. He saw a woman smashing through a glass door. He saw entire families being sucked away in the waves. He saw blood everywhere. He is incredibly lucky to be alive.

At this point, I’m sort of glad that I’ve never been into beach holidays.

Datang, China is the sock capital of the world, producing nine billion pairs of socks a year.

(Ni hao, wo shi dawei! = Hello, I am David!)

Yahoo! China reports that kung fu star Jet Li is one of the missing after the weekend’s tsunamis in Asia and Africa.

Update: The Hero is safe and well.

China Says Situation in Taiwan Straits ‘Grim’:

“Should the Taiwan authorities go so far as to make a reckless attempt that constitutes a major incident of ‘Taiwan independence’, the Chinese people and armed forces will resolutely and thoroughly crush it at any cost.”

Read the China Daily report for the Chinese take. I thought China was feeling all smug about the Taiwanese election results that showed support for maintaining the status quo. Is it just me, or has the Beijing government continuously staffed its top military posts with men who are short and have small dicks?

I feel safer knowing the EU trusts China so much. Nothing to do with short-term commercial gain at all, no sir.

• had dinner at Madame Rouge (the Mandarin Hotel’s French restaurant)
• introduced Neil to his own sock doll
• opened our Christmas presents
• had pizza at Manhattan Pizza
• spent six hours drinking mulled wine at the Oxley’s Christmas Day Open House
• gave Trev away to a three year old (I hope she doesn’t get tired of him too soon)
• had Christmas dinner at The House
• had a couple more glasses of wine at the Oxleys
• went home to bed
• woke up when Neil got in at 8am (*ahem*)
• slept all day
• had dinner at Tutto Bene

… is to see the new additions to the family — Min and Yvonne’s sprogs Emma and Euan, and Melissa and Steve’s rugrat Kira (due today, but busted out four weeks early to make sure she doesn’t get ‘combined’ presents in future).

… is a Sega Mega Drive 6-in-1 Plug ‘n’ Play (the theme song to Sonic the Hedgehog brings back such wonderful gaming memories).

… is to visit (and probably spend cash at):

• Art of Crafts, #02-07 Orchard Plaza
• Creative Pot, #B1-18 Tanglin Mall
• Jenny’s Craft House, #04-56 Shaw Centre

(This is more to remind myself when I go back on vacation — vive le Singapore!)

… is for Neil to like his Christmas present (and stocking stuffers).

… is to have a good party on Christmas Day (and remember it)!

Have a good Christmas Eve, everyone!

Via Asian Labour News, there is a story in The New Paper about domestic maids who need help. Many attempt suicide.

Ms Ivy Lee, managing director of Maid Power agency, said: ‘Some of the maids bring with them unresolved problems from home. Some are escaping from parents or in-laws and have no emotional support from home.’

The adjustment problems they face here just compounds their vulnerability, she said. Ms Alice Cheah, managing director of Caregivers Centre, said demanding employers are also to blame.

‘I think the main cause of stress for maids is that they are confined in the house all the time and some employers nag a lot. The maids can’t express themselves, their frustrations. Some can’t even use the phone.’

The worst insult is when employers complain about their maids to their friends and family right in front of them, as if they’re complete imbeciles who can’t comprehend (I’ve witnessed this on more than one occasion). It’s one thing to work in a dull job, day after day; it’s completely another to be treated as a sub-human, shown no shred of respect, disallowed from retaining any dignity — all for a few hundred dollars a month. It says a lot more about the employers than the maids when the former bitch and moan while their (basically) indentured servant has to sit there and take it.

If people are so unhappy about their maid’s personalities and abilities (rightly or wrongly), I have a simple suggestion: don’t hire a maid. No one’s forcing you.

Oops. Now we’ve been caught (despite issuing vehement denials), how do we make sure we don’t get caught again?

Claim you never knew, and promise ‘a full investigation and corrective actions’. Either the US President has been kept in the dark all these years — for plausible deniability purposes, just the kind of well-informed person you’d want to lead the most powerful country on earth — or he’s a big fat stinking liar.

Japan Today tells me that Sony has discovered a huge Playstation piracy operation in China.

The paper said that after a five-year probe, Sony discovered a network of at least 10 subcontractors that produces PlayStation consoles, controllers and “modifying chips.” Chinese authorities have raided the factories Sony identified as part of the piracy ring numerous times and fined their owners, but they have continued operating by setting up the subcontracting network, it said.

I’m sure you’re as shocked by this discovery as I am. Chinese factories, copying IP-protected goods? Surely not!

Neil and I watched Touching the Void on DVD last night. I can’t believe it got an R rating for a few ‘fucks’ and ‘cunts’ — the bloke was stuck in a crevasse, for goodness’ sake, he wasn’t on the streets of LA talking to his homies about his bitch.

My disbelief dispensed with, on to the story. And what a story! Which I’ll get to in a moment. I started learning rock-climbing back in 1996, when some bloke I met in Perth opened an indoor climbing gym. I did well on my first beginner climbs. My nickname as a child was ‘Monkey’.

Coincidence? Of course.

Cut to 1999. I met up with an old acquaintance who is a dead good climber. Ever eager to encourage more budding climbers, he took me to his local bouldering hole (er…) at SAFRA. And he bought me a pair of climbing shoes.

I took a course to get a beginner’s certificate (or something) in rock-climbing in 2000. I did all the climbing, never picked up the certificate. My fabulous climbing pal (see him above, haha) offered to give me the certificate I was lacking, since he’s a qualified instructor.

I met this German bloke who was Mr. Adventure, and we spent a terrified evening watching Vertical Limit together.

The climbing kind of tapered off over time (I’m just full of the rock-climbing puns today), and I think Neil has been abandoned only once in favour of a bouldering evening since we started dating. There are two rock-climbing walls in Xiamen, and while I’ve been to both, nary a foot has been laid on the artificial holds.

So. To get to my point.

Touching the Void is why I will never even attempt ice-climbing. Bloody hell, even if they made it without shattering a leg, drinking muddy water, and almost dying a few times, did you see their faces and fingers at the end? Imagine having to recover from that level of frostbite and the burns they experienced? Bugger me, I’d never do that to myself just to get a thrill. A nice warm day, a marked route on an oft-(but not too oft, in case it’s worn out)used rock face, at least one climbing buddy to keep an eye out, and an easy route back to civilisation will do me.

I guess they won’t be making a movie about me overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds anytime soon.

Many New or Expectant Mothers Die Violent Deaths:

A year-long examination by The Washington Post of death-record data in states across the country documents the killings of 1,367 pregnant women and new mothers since 1990. This is only part of the national toll, because no reliable system is in place to track such cases.

…

The Post’s analysis shows that the killings span racial and ethnic groups. In cases whose details were known, 67 percent of women were killed with firearms. Many women were slain at home — in bedrooms, living rooms, kitchens — usually by men they knew. Husbands. Boyfriends. Lovers.

This is the first in a series of three articles. The big question is why all this violence occurs. I reckon that a big reason is the prospective father has no control over the situation, and violently preventing the pregnancy from coming to term is the only way they can exercise their power.

“I wonder, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder–”

“I wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder…!”

“That’s not funny.”

“Why?”

“Stop it.”

“Heeheeheeheehee.”

“You think you’re funny.”

“Heeheeheeheehee.”