Don’t mind me, I’ll just be over here, acting natural
“You don’t look natural enough.”
“Can’t you sit more like him? He looks natural.”
“(Under breath) He’s not the one being photographed, is he?”
I agreed to be interviewed for this Chinese magazine because 1) one of the editors is a friend and needed someone easy to access for questions and photos, and 2) she is very keen on promoting the print edition of What’s On Xiamen, and promised to do so in the interview.
Every issue I (well, the company that publishes my little rag) put out invariably has me searching for a photo of myself to include in the editor’s note. I’m not necessarily the most comfortable in from of the lens, despite years of enduring my dear sister sticking her camera in my face. You know how people sometimes look pained, or dazed, or just plain cheesy in those instant passport photos? That’s always me. I don’t know how to arrange my features for that optimal photo-taking expression, and please don’t tell me there are classes for that.
So I’m not good at being photographed. I’m not painfully shy, but I’m no ham for the camera either. The team from the Chinese magazine came over to our flat to photograph me ‘doing my thing’ last week, which meant photographing me and my sock dolls, me and my magazines, and using my computer (I lead such a full life). The photographer let me look at the shots when he was through (the wonders of a digital SLR), and I have the usual ‘this is slightly torturous’ half-smile on my face while posing with the sock dolls and the first first issue of What’s On Xiamen. The shots of my surfing the Internet on my laptop were a small problem, because I sit at a desk to work and the wireless router is plugged into my computer so there’s no chance I can be mobile anyway, especially if Neil needs to be online too. Sitting at a desk trying to keep my back somewhat straight and resting my arms on the armrests so my trapezoids don’t cause me agony: not natural. Sitting cross-legged (as in a semi-lotus position) on the sofa, pretending to surf while using Neil’s laptop (I was looking at Google Earth): not natural. Neil, his arse practically grafted to the sofa, also sitting cross-legged (but in a more manly way): perfectly natural, according to them. I can’t help it if the way I sit and work is not what they would conceive as natural, can I?
Then there were the outdoor shots. The lanky photographer ran ahead to snap me walking along a busy shopping street — “Look natural, don’t look at the camera!”
Eh. It’s kind of hard to pretend someone’s camera isn’t there when it’s constantly pointed at your face. I only managed to stick my tongue out at him once before I was admonished for looking into the camera lens. I’ve either got to be more… er… media-friendly and learn that a camera isn’t going to capture my soul like in that dumb horror movie we saw most of at The House last week, or stay away from more photo shoots in future. So while it appears he got hundreds of shots of me, I’m not sure if enough of them are usable, and if there aren’t enough, they’ll have to schedule another shoot and that will probably make things worse because I’ll be so aware that I wasn’t natural enough last time that I will be even less natural next time and it will all be shit.
Because, you know, the camera could capture little bits of my soul, and I can’t afford to lose any weight.
Much wiser, we hope
L-R: Vivian, Angela, Andrea. Over 18 months ago, the three of us launched What’s On Xiamen. A lot has happened since then, and here we are, photographed for posterity on 16 November 2005 at The House. I’m the only one still involved in the magazine (i.e. work for no pay, that’s the price for being stubborn, I suppose), and I still look like a little boy. Jesus H. Christ.
On deadlines and why I will not ever be a humorist
I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by. — Douglas Adams
I, on the other hand, live by my deadlines. It gives my dominant anally retentive personality a sense of accomplishment to finish things on time. If I didn’t give myself goals with timetables, good God, I’d never get out of bed. Ever.
This is my way of saying it’s busy days at What’s On Xiamen headquarters (i.e. the small room where all our shite is stored, along with my laptop and sock doll supplies).
What’s On Xiamen redesigned
It works perfectly in Opera and Firefox, then spits out the guillotine bug in IE. Apparently none of the fixes are perfect, but then neither is IE when it comes to obeying CSS2.
Giving up
You know you live in a small town when you introduce yourself to the local bar’s DJ and he responds with, Yes, I’ve read your website. I’ve never been shy about my website, I’ve always encouraged my family to read it (only my sister takes an active interest, I think). I’ve run into reactions in Singapore when friends have not liked what I’ve written, and my answer to them has always been… it is my site and these are my opinions, you can take it or leave it. I’m not more or less opinionated in this piece of virtual real estate than I am in real life — in fact, I probably take more care in what I type than what I say.
Sometimes what comes out of my mouth does not get filtered through my brain first.
These last months in Xiamen have shown me that I do fear other’s condemnation if I say something unpalatable. This is a small town; being persona non grata would be pretty difficult. But I am not happy. I am not happy trying to censor myself and my feelings about living in Xiamen and the people in Xiamen just because some expatriates read it. I’m not happy convincing myself that this is a small town and no one can say what they really think because the repercussions aren’t worth it.
So, fuck it.
There are many human behaviours in Xiamen that are worthy of contempt. Do not, for example, make a pass at me — however subtle — when you know I have a boyfriend. Nothing is going to induce me to cheat, or consider cheating, on Neil. If you’ll notice, the lads I talk to the most and am friendliest and most affectionate with are the ones who respect me, Neil, and their own wives or girlfriends and don’t think that just because they are white males in Xiamen that they can get away with everything. You can’t, you’re a shameless pathetic fool. And I won’t even be your friend. Since I’m not the person who gets hit on the most here in Xiamen (it’s not like I’ve done a poll, but I’m fairly certain other girls get more of this shite than me), I do feel extremely sorry for the girls who have to deal with this. All. The. Fucking. Time.
Thank you for saying you like What’s On Xiamen and you think it’s very helpful. I’m not very good at accepting compliments, but I assure you that I am very pleased people think it’s useful. Please help me with it. I can’t do it all by myself. Surely people must be tired of my writing style by now, how I’m kind of corny and purposely mangle famous old sayings or pop culture references all the time. Help me out here. Everyone says Xiamen needs this, why not help me make it better? It’s so fucking frustrating to talk to people who offer to help and say It’s no problem, I’d love to do it, but when actually asked, make up excuses or magically forget they said anything.
(This is not to criticise those who said they would like to but admit lack of reliability, or those who outline how far they can go to help from the get go. I’m talking to Marjut and Ange here. I appreciate your honesty. For those who have stepped up to the plate and turned in articles, you guys rock, too.)
Superficial conversations on books and movies are fine once in a while, why am I having the same conversations with people I’ve known for a while? Maybe I’m not trying hard enough to make friends, I don’t feel anyone cares to really make friends here, the depth of goodwill correlates directly with how much the other party can benefit the self. I know a lot of people, but there is no one I would consider a real friend, people demand a lot of me and give a lot to me because they care about what happens to me. I miss Mark and Kristen and Wee Delboy, we ‘got’ one another and had disagreements and supported one another and even when we met up after ages of not seeing one another, we still went back to talking like we never moved to three different continents (well, we’ve not tested it with Delboy yet but I’ve no doubt it’ll be the same).
Life isn’t hard.
But I feel confined and solitary.
Maybe it’s China.
Probably not.
It’s probably me.
(Neil does make this life a lot more tolerable but he was a very bad drunk last night and I’m annoyed.)
And in other news…
… I just got fired from my day job because I do What’s On Xiamen.
I guess getting that advertising revenue has just become that much more important.
This weekend I…
- watched Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events
- watched I, Robot (ho-hum)
- watched the last three episodes of Monk season two (I love that show)
- organised my closet (I felt guilty after Neil organised his during the week)
- went to Gulangyu for an exploratory walk
- went to a birthday party on Gulangyu
- went to Park Latin with Allison because she really, really wanted to go out
- watched two blokes at Park Latin leer at a pretty 15-year old (I’m beginning to think licencing laws should be instituted to protect kids from pervs, not prevent them from drinking)
- had lunch at Javaromas with Allison (and she was feeling pretty rough, hah)
- did a bit of What’s On Xiamen work
- got Chinese food delivered for dinner
- watched Hotel Rwanda (it always horrifies me that people can be so consumed with hatred that killing occurs on this scale)
Mmm… ice cream
Wise words from my colleague:
Raising a child is easy, it’s raising them so they become good people that’s hard.
I’m being a little liberal with the translation. What she said was, “养小孩很容易，养到什么程度才难。” As you can tell from the mangled Chinese grammar, I’m not quoting verbatim either, but it’s pretty close (if you happen to be a native Chinese speaker or scholar of the language, I’m sorry I studied Chinese as a first language for 11 years and yet manage to be barely literate).
The ensuing remarks were that we could substitute ‘child’ with any task or project, and it would still apply. Say — ahem — a magazine. It’s precisely because I’m bloody-minded and there is no way I’d put my name to a magazine that’s poorly written and designed (nor plagiarised) that this is the FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE I’ve begun seeking comfort food on an almost-daily basis — one could also say I’ve BEEN DAMN LUCKY SO FAR.
What am I getting out of it, people ask. Fame? Fortune? In China, the last thing I want is fame, especially since it has to do with the media. As for fortune, I get a little back for the time and effort I put into making sure it’s a decent read for foreigners. I’m not going to get rich off this. I’m certainly not going to earn enough to pay the bills, either. What I get out of this is the GRIM SATISFACTION that it can be done (yes, it is pretty damn grim), and it can survive beyond one issue (thriving is another matter).
I’ve got three elements that make up my life: the day job, What’s On Xiamen, and an actual life. On any one day, I can only manage to handle two. Guess which one doesn’t make the cut most days? Neil’s being really nice about it, and is helping me if he can, so I guess the favour bank is stacking up very strongly in his favour, and may the Good Lord help me when it’s time to collect. Ahem.
Moving swiftly on then, since this is meant to be reasonably family-friendly. Look, kittens!