Random Miscellanea

2006-07-03T15:26:00.000+08:00

So, I've just launched Shanghai Networking News, and now I'm just trying to find ways to publicise it. I'm trying to make it a one-stop shop for networking in Shanghai, with events details, a calendar, forums, etc. It's early days yet, but we'll see how it goes.

Shanghai Networking News

2006-06-29T15:33:00.000+08:00

Well, I've decided to pack it in at Shanghai Expat...it's been a great place to work and I've learned a lot, but it's time for me to do my own thing. Right now I'm in business startup mode, with a zillion and one ideas to deal with and more coming in every day. The first business in Shanghai Networking News, a website/newsletter targeted at social/business networkers in Shanghai, since that's a niche that doesn't seem to be catered for in a big way. It'll be listing and reviewing events, pointing people to info and advice about networking, and hopefully making me some cash in the process. I took the plunge and bought some hosting about an hour ago, and the site should go live in a couple of days. I'm just living in dread of the next few hours when I suddenly realise I completely mispelt Sahnghai in the URL and have to pony up more cash to get it sorted out...

Stayin' Alive

2006-06-29T11:28:00.000+08:00

At the American Chamber of Commerce event last night, the hoary chestnut that is the "you know, you really do look like Boris Becker" conversation reared it's repetitive head, but this time with a twist. Apparently I now have the smile of one of the Bee Gees, though I'm not entirely sure which one. So to recap, according to various people, I have:

The smile of a Bee Gee
The general appearance of Boris Becker
The lips of Mick Jagger
The posture of David Bowie

Most people, when they're young, go through a phase of daydreaming about if they had been adopted, and their real parents were fairy tale kings and queens, ready to return some day to whisk them off to god knows where; I'm stuck with the haunting notion that I'm descended from a trio of 70s music icons and a German tennis player.

Back in the UK

2006-04-20T12:07:00.000+08:00

I'll be back in the UK from Apr 27 to May 5, so if anyone fancies a coffee or a drink, bang me an email, leave me a comment, or give me a phone call. Looking forward to seeing y'all (yet again...)

Stop the world, I want to get off

2006-04-10T22:27:00.000+08:00

If this is someone's idea of a big cosmic joke, let me tell you, it's starting to freak me out. This is the third time I've met a fellow Salopian* in Shanghai. The first time was some guy who used to play cricket at Whittington Castle and attended Lakelands School. Yesterday, there was the guy who did French at Adams School in Wem, and today I meet a tourist from Shrewsbury who's based in Japan. As you can see, two Shropshire lads in as many days -- Shropshire to Shanghai emigration is starting to kick in. It's becoming spooky. No longer can I practice my salsa on the subway, because I'll probably bump into an old school friend whom I haven't seen in years and it'll all seem terribly embarassing. I'll be afraid to buy condoms for fear that an Ellesmerian will overhear me and report it to my gran. What is it that makes Shanghai a Salopian magnet? Is it that there's a disproportionate amount of Salopians here, or is it just that we're all drawn together by some magnetic force? The ghosts of Charles Darwin, Thomas Telford and T'Pau's musical career seem to be guiding our every move, bringing us closer together. But for what? Fuck it. I'm just going to give in and start up Shropshire Expat. The way we're going we'll soon outnumber all the other expats put together anyway. In a way it's kind of fitting that the descendents of Darwin, the man behind "survival of the fittest," get to see just that in action every day on the highways, byways and pavements of Shanghai... * For those not in the know, a Salopian is someone from Shropshire, a green, insignificant county on the Welsh/English border, best known for it's sheep and it's cameo in some sort of TV commercial down under. Those Aussies, eh? Anything with a connection to sheep...

Depinkification

2006-03-24T14:05:00.000+08:00

Right, I don't know who or what turned my website pink, but at least now it's back to a tasteful white. Don't want none of that pansy, pinko gay color here, no siree. Besides, that particular shade makes my eyes water so much that it smudges my mascara...well, not quite. Anyway, the new sidebar on the right shows some of my designs from the MTO123 website, so if you want one of them (or anything else) on a T-shirt, hoodie, USB key or whatever else, let me know. Since I'm blogging from work, I guess I'd better plug, plug away. So, here's a quick(ish) intro to MTO123: Why We're Here We're to help you express your brand or identity by delivering unique, high-quality, customized products. From playful T-shirts to professional workwear, from USB keys to coveralls, we've got it covered. How We're Different There are already lots of companies out there providing branded goods. So, what makes us so special?

We specialise in small runs -- Whether you want ten thousand employee shirts or just one shirt for yourself, we can do it.
We're devoted to quality -- Each of our best-of-brand garments is hand-customized to ensure the high quality our customers expect
We're affordable -- Since we source from all over place, we can get great prices for anything
When we say customize, we mean customize -- You want to buy 50 T-shirts, each with different color trim and individual names? You got it!

In a nutshell, we believe in the concept of MTO -- Made to Order -- meaning you don't need piles of products going out of date and taking up valuable space. We'll manufacture products as and when you need them, saving you space and always keeping your image fresh and up-to-date. We use only the most sophisticated technology, quickest ordering processes and most creative designs to turn your dreams into reality in the shortest time possible and we're always on the forefront of new techniques and products, forever expanding our skill-set and product line to better help you. What We Believe Take a walk down the street. Look at people's clothes. How many of them really stand out? With their "Nike" this, "Adidas" that and "Louis Vuitton" the other, most people are walking billboards. Even more amazingly, THEY pay the companies that they're advertising! We're here to shake things up a bit. No more hordes of zombies in Nikes. We're here to take back branding and put it where it rightfully belongs: in the hands of the masses. Whether you want to kick-start the next Reebok, hand out clothes to your groupies or establish your own personality cult, branded clothes will help you take it to the next level. There's only one you in the universe and we're here to help you express that. With us, you can make your own personal brand. Wear your own slogan, your own message, your own emotions. Wear yourself. But wait, MTO123 isn't just about individuals! Here at MTO123, we believe there's no better investment for a company than to support itself with the best promotion there is, being used in the most creative ways and tied in with the evolution of your business. Branded products lead to an increased bond between your company and your employees and clients, greater brand equity and represent your business in the right way. We can help you with this by producing small, quick production runs that hit the streets when you need them, at the right cost and with the quality your business deserves. Whether it's corporate gifts, staff uniforms or a token of appreciation to your employees, we're the people to talk to. Moreover, we're a value-centred company. We eat our own dogfood, so to speak, meaning our employees wear, use and believe in what we produce. This is the best way to guarantee quality for you.

Back in the saddle

2006-03-04T17:54:00.000+08:00

I've finally got time to blog again, and, obviously, I can't think of a damn thing to write. Let's see what I've learned from my months in the non-blogging wilderness:

You can never have too many sequins
Hairspray and excessive boredom do not a good combination make

In other news I'm now working full-time for Shanghai Yang Ma Advertising, the guys behind Shanghai Expat and MTO123. The work for MTO123 seems to be taking up most of my time -- customized hats, T-shirts, basketballs, hoodies, USB keys...well, just about anything really. It's more exciting than it sounds, and it's got lots of potential going for it. Not the easiest job in the world, seeing as I'm the only sales dude, but great fun nonetheless and a fantastic challenge. Quite a few of the designs on the MTO123 website are my own, though the creative juices have been a bit on the low side recently. More soon...in theory

'31

2005-12-21T17:59:00.000+08:00

Finally got home to Shanghai about a week ago after several weeks back in Blighty. And what a few weeks it was. Delhi Belly, strange encounters of the blurred kind (just ask the other dancers in the Newtown bars) and a night at the ballet were just of the experiences I won't forget in a hurry. I would have been back in the Whore of the Orient -- Shanghai, that is -- earlier, but had to stick around to watch my uncle dance ballet in The Nutcracker. Wow. I never realised he was that bloody amazing. Looks like I'll have to re-enrol at Jazz du Funk soon... Though the euphoria should wear off in a few weeks, for now it feels great to be home and settling down again. I've got a new job -- doing advertising sales -- and a new place, a circa 1931 building in the French Concession, a nice leafy area around several parks. Needless to say, it's a much nicer place than my last one, which I was paying through the nose for, and was right at the end of line two. Aaah, Zhongshan Park, I knew ye well. Oh yeah, it also has double-glazing, which is pretty damn astonishing, considering the usual sorry state of insulation in Shanghainese apartments. Am I the only one who finds it weird that my 75-year-old apartment is a hell of a lot warmer than the newest, flashiest places in Shanghai? Incidentally, they even get the floor numbers right. I'm on the second floor, but it's the third window up. Just one of the many benefits of British imperialism. Then again, there was that whole "No Dogs or Chinese" thing, which evens things out a bit. Cue ancestral guilt trip here. The staff at the local ~~Kwiki Mart~~ Alldays seems a lot friendlier than the convenience stores in my old part of town, and don't even have to be trained to say thanks and goodbye. Lots of cheap eats nearby and bars no more than a short taxi ride away, allowing for potentially explosive consequences if I mix the two in the wrong order. What joy.

Of Men and Micropenises

2005-12-02T03:33:00.000+08:00

These are the top keywords that people search for that lead them to my blog. After looking at 1 and 3, I'm getting slightly worried.

Stuff I've been looking at recently

2005-12-02T02:44:00.000+08:00

Since I seem to have a few more visitors than I expected, I've decided to try and post more frequently. The problem is, though, I don't really know what to post. There's always the photos of dogs dressed as bees, of course... For now, here's stuff I've been looking at recently: On the web

Bloglines - ah, faithful old Bloglines. Without this killer tool, I'd have to visit a few dozen sites a day only to find a few updates. Here, practically every site I visit is presented in one simple interface. It slices, it dices, it shaves hours off my day.
Del.icio.us - yet another Web 2.0 service, this lets me store my bookmarks online, so I can access them from anywhere, and even see what other people are bookmarking. The Recent Bookmarks to the left are thanks to this little puppy. Tagged, bagged and ready to surf.
Google Analytics - One of the Big G's latest buyouts, this lets me check where and how many visits I get to this page.
The Onion, although it's been losing its funniness recently.
Defective Yeti, which is still consistently funny
Plus various technology sites, of limited appeal to my suspected audience.

On TV

The BBC's ShakespeaRetold has been fantastic. A modern-day retelling of the bard's stories. Surprisingly good.
Little Britain, though it's getting a bit long in the tooth by now. "But I'm a lady" can only be funny so many times.

In print

The Guardian - Yeah, it's a bit liberal for most of my family, but I'm so used to reading it online that it's nice to be able to hold a print edition. Beats the Torygraph in my book.
Sudoku - a puzzle game invented in England, perfected in Japan and then imported back again. More fun than it looks at first.

On my iPod

McFly - Okay, they're a bit of a boy band, but they still have good tunes. No relation to Back to the Future.
Bowling for Soup - Weird name, sometimes weird songs, but fun nonetheless
Harvey Danger, who recently released their album, Little by Little, online. Not my usual cup of char, but it's growing on me.

On my bod

A funky striped shirt from Energie. Ahh, if only it were cheaper I could buy a lot more.
A corduroy blazer from Zara. Again, not cheap, but blazers are in right now and I couldn't find a cheaper one with real pockets.
A military-style hat from H&M. So far, the only cheap thing I've bought, and the only thing I'm not entirely sure suits me. But then, I've never really been a hat person before.

I guess it's time to wrap up this irrelevant little post. Incidentally, the whole site's now Creative Commons licensed, meaning you can redistribute my content as long as you obey a few rules.

In Which Alex Waxes Dangerously Philosophical

2005-12-01T06:34:00.000+08:00

Caution: The following is a joke-free post. Feel free to insert banana peels, buckets of whitewash and other slapstick as you see fit. If swallowed, consult doctor immediately. It's only by returning to my roots in Shropshire that I've realised how abnormal I've become. Not abnormal in a bad way, but just "not normal." I suppose I could use the word "extraordinary," but it seems a bit arrogant, doesn't it? Of course, "normal" means different things to different people, but since I've been back I've found myself on a different wavelength to most people I know. Other people try to get a steady job, make some money and eventually start a family. People like me, on the other hand, gallivant from country to country, never knowing where home is, where we'll end up next and or what tomorrow may bring. It all sounds terribly exciting and romantic, but it's not the easiest existence: Language barriers, cultural barriers, losing touch with old friends and sometimes a feeling of not belonging are just some of the problems. Wherever I go, I never feel quite at home. Home is more than just a place. It's the people you know, your shared experiences and memories. That's why coming home has been tough in a few ways. With some of my friends it's like I left only yesterday. With others, it's like I've been gone for a hundred years. A lot of them have married and/or have kids already, while some have only just graduated. It's all been a bit of a shock sometimes, and it feels terrible not being to relate to some of them like I used to. I've realised how everything's changed, or hasn't changed. Most people I've seen since I've been back are busy doing "normal" stuff. Apologies if the quote marks make me sound like a bit of an arrogant twat, but I can't think of any other way to describe it. I've heard a lot of them saying they wish they could do what I do. The fact is, it's not such a big deal. Admittedly, I've had some advantages, like having experienced emigration at a young age and a background in language study, but so what? I know people who've done more on less. It's not that I can do these things, it's that I do do these things. It's all a state of mind. Doing what I do wasn't easy at first. I got into some bad scrapes a few times, thrown into insane situations, got horribly sick and often wanted to catch the next plane home. But I stuck at it, and it's made me a lot tougher, and, hopefully, a much better person. I was actually chatting to an old friend about this a while ago, and I lied to her. It's only now that I realise. When she asked if I ever got scared, I just answered no. Truth be told, I've been scared out of my wits more times than I can count, and I know I will be again. I can either let the fear paralyse me, or fight through the fear. Every time I fight it, it gets a little easier. In the end, everyone has their fears. For me, it's the fear of having regrets. The fear of kicking myself later in life for not grabbing hold of a great opportunity now. The fear of having no stories to tell my (eventual) grandchildren. It's only by taking the road less travelled that I'll ever have these stories. I guess, in a way, that's what my life is all about.

You like me, you really like me!

2005-12-01T01:29:00.000+08:00

Wow. I've just checked the logs and I've been getting hits from all over the place. Not just New Zealand, but quite a bit of western Europe, the States, South Africa. And there I was thinking I didn't have much of an audience. Anyway, if you're reading this, leave a comment and let me know who you are and where you're from. Y'know, something to warm the cockles of my heart.

Pink Tea-Towel Holders

2005-11-21T07:35:00.000+08:00

NB: Don't look at the link for Robinson Crusoe on Sin Island unless you're really prepared for it. It's pretty mucky and I wouldn't want to be responsible for any hairy palms, blindness, eternal damnation, etc. While in London I've been staying with some of my uncle's friends, and it's been a bit of an eye-opener, all in all. Another friend was doing costume management for Robinson Crusoe on Sin Island, a pornographic version of (I think) Pirates of the Carribbean. Thus, a few weeks after my arrival, I was treated to quite a graphic description of what actually happens on a blue movie set. Sordid stuff indeed. After that, my curiosity (and only my curiosity) aroused, we all gathered around the computer to watch the trailer for this movie. That's right, four guys -- two gay, two straight -- watching a skin flick just to check out the quality and historical authenticity of the period costumes. Yes! Marvel at the realistic brass buttons! Be astounded by the intricate embroidery on Robinson's jacket! Gaze in wonder at the detailed carving of the peg, uh, legs. I've also learnt a whole lot of new words for, um, the male genital organ, not from the movie, but from the comic strip that Ricky (a guy I'm staying with) draws. I'll never think of custard the same way ever again. In related news, according to my uncle, I am the lucky owner of a sense of humour that's steadily becoming more and more homosexual, probably due to a few double entendres that I "slip in" here and there. Damnit, there I go again, and I'm not even trying. I don't know quite where this is going to lead me, and frankly, it's probably better that I don't.

Homecoming Queen

2005-11-15T06:51:00.000+08:00

Coming "home" to England is weird in many ways, not least of all is my hometown, Ellesmere. I was only fifteen when I left, but still...it's all a little surreal. A matter of relative scale I guess...it's a bit of a shock coming from a city of 16 million to a town of 3,000. Honestly, it takes less time to walk from one end of town to the other than it does to walk to my local subway station back home. It's not just the geography that's small either. For lack of a better word, so are some of the people. Not small-minded as such, but small in terms of experience. It really put things into perspective for me when one English woman was wondering aloud what it would be like to visit London. It's making me take my globetrotting less for granted a week or so later. That and the quote "Oh my God, Alex, I applaud you, I really do," after someone discovered I was a 23 year-old who lives in Shanghai. It'll be nice to get back to all the other normal folk in Shanghai so I can swap war stories about going "home." Hmm...it's getting difficult to remember which "home" is home, if you get my drift. And that's leaving out New Zealand, Taipei, and Jiayuguan. It's bad enough people not being able to tell where I'm from, how old I am or which team I bat for, but on top of it all, now I don't even know where I consider home. Expect an identity crisis and mental breakdown soon folks. No change from the status quo, come to think of it. Speaking of breakdowns, I'm almost having a mid-life (well, mid-twenties) crisis. Most people I know from childhood are either hitched, have children and/or are having a baby. I'm actually starting to feel old. Granted, this is Ellesmere we're talking about. A place where...well, let's not go into that. Suffice to say, these things generally happen earlier over there. You know, small town, lack of entertainment, that kettle of fish. Protection basically consists of locking the doors. Until now, sprogging hasn't really crossed my mind that much, mostly because, being a complete narcissist, I rarely think of anything but myself. That, and the fact I'd make a terrible dad. I still remember goading my kid brothers into eating soap, almost slamming my brother's head in a car door and missing my sister's head by inches with what seemed like a small boulder. Not exactly acts to inspire faith in my parenting skills. When it comes down to it, I'm completely not ready for the responsibility, maturity and poop that comes with having the pitter-patter of tiny feet running around the house. And falling down the stairs. We C-G's, or at least one of us, have a knack for that kind of thing. Not me though. I was just the one who ate coal. Culture shocks are still popping up all over the shop. I had one of my biggest last night, when I tried to buy some beer at the local service station. Apparently, it can't be served after 11pm. Okaaay. And here I was thinking I was returning to the more liberal country...it's just one of those times when I realised how much more laissez-faire China is, at least in some respects. That and the 40p DVD's and several metric tons of rip-off Gucci's. The other biggest culture shock (and it sounds so un-PC for me to say this) is the amount of black people here. Sure, I've always known England has a large black population, but it only really hit home when I got here. That's not to say I think it's bad, just that it's a bit of a shock to the system after Shanghai, where practically the only black people I saw where staring at me from tubes of toothpaste. Really, some of my best friends are black. It's just I'm more used to seeing a slightly different hue in humanity's rich rainbow of colours. Um, let's just assume that this rainbow includes black and white, and forget about the blue, green and so on, yeah? And with that Bulwer-Lytton-worthy analogy, I'm putting this post to bed. Though I'm sure we're all agreed it'd be better off if we put it to sleep. Thank you, and goodnight.

London Calling

2005-11-14T06:36:00.000+08:00

What better way to celebrate my return to blogging than a predictably lame title pun? That's right, I'm baaack, and this time blogging from London, which I'm still getting used to. People here drive on the wrong side of the road, they manage to keep their spit on the inside and the shops generally shut at five o'clock. In the evening. Yep, it's a strange place to come back to after Shanghai, especially since this is the first time I've been back in about six years. There are times when I really have to stop myself forming a scrum of one when I try to get onto the "tube" as people in countries other than China seem to have developed this amazing social practice, which I think is known as (though don't quote me) queuing. Basically, it's people just spontaneously forming a line, one after the other. It all seemed a bit technical to me at first, but I'm gradually relearning this fantastic skill, though it's not as easy as it looks. At first I thought there'd be someone handing out numbers to organize who stood where, but (unbelievably, I might add) it seems to be more of an ad-hoc arrangement. Gads, is it any wonder they, uhhh, we had an empire on which the sun never setted? Many say the past is a foreign country, and I couldn't agree more. My return to this fair and sceptered isle has provided me with my first case of Delhi belly in years, no doubt due to English cuisine's world-renowned richness and piquancy. I've run the gamut, from fish and chips all the way to jam on toast, and it's been a helter-skelter ride of thrills, spills and general unpredictability all the way. More later. Unless I starve to death in the middle of the night through not being able to buy a bag of "crisps." Or fall over stone-cold dead from the sensory overload of a runny boiled egg with (deep breath) soldiers. Or just get lazy again. You know what I'm like by now...

The Yunnan Travelog: Prologue

2005-09-03T17:12:00.000+08:00

N.b. I wrote this mostly for the Shanghai Expat website, but I thought I'd put it on my site too. More coming later. The article on Shanghai Expat'll have pictures too, some of which are also on my Flickr page. "That's it. I've either got to leave this crazy, mixed-up city or I'll go insane." How many times have you heard something like that? Most people, after living in Shanghai for a while, have felt this way one time or another. And it's not surprising. Shanghai changes so quickly that it's difficult to get a handle on the here and now and it can sometimes be nigh-on impossible to feel grounded. It seems that no sooner than something has been built up then it's time for it to be pulled down again, and replaced by something bigger, shinier and even shorter-lived. In short, it's not the most tranquil or relaxing place to live. It was with this in mind that I decided to escape Shanghai for a while. It had been nine months since I'd come in, and I'd lost track of how long it had been since my last holiday. Heeding the advice of many others who raved about the south-west of China, I chose to head to Yunnan, to the tourist Mecca of Lijiang and hopefully see some of the minority peoples and cultures on the way. I didn't so much go out of a desire to see Yunnan though. To be honest, I couldn't really have cared much less about seeing the tourist sights. No, my objective was to just break loose from the big smoke for a while, and any tourist sights on the way would be a bonus. Non-typical, yes, but Shanghai can do that to you. Anyway, on with the show...

2005-08-26T01:41:00.000+08:00

Well, I'm back, with lots of good ideas about what to do now. More later, lots of Shanghai Expat work to catch up on. Travelog and pics should be posted within a week or so, assuming I don't get hit by a truck or run away back to Yunnan, Dick Whittington stick and hanky over my shoulder (Do those baggish things actually have a name? I've always been curious...)

Going West Travelog, 7 Aug

2005-08-26T01:29:00.000+08:00

Well, almost 24 hours into the journey and I seem to be coping okay. I've passed through the 'bored to tears' stage and I'm now in the little pool of calm tedium on the other side, just listening to the clickety-clack of the tails and enduring the odd blackouts as we go through a tunnel. I'd originally tried to book a hard sleeper for the journey, but having taken a look around the rest of the train and seen most of the passengers crammed six to a room in triple-decker bunks, I'm glad that only soft sleepers were available. That's not to say it's a walk in the park though: I'm still stuck in here with a family who think it's perfectly normal to wake up at 5am and yak for (what seemed like) the better part of an hour. To top it off, the daughter needs a night-light and the father has a buzzsaw snore. Fan-bloody-tastic. I chose to take the train because a) it was slightly cheaper, and b) for the bragging rights of having endured a 44-hour train ride. Me and my big ideas. Oh, wonderful. As if that wasn't bad enough, now everyone on board is being treated to the Backstreet Boys over the intercom. It's a wonder there are as few rail-related "accidents" as there are.

Random 10 and the ghost of Cliff Richard

2005-07-30T23:53:00.000+08:00

Just for the hell of it, and because I haven't posted for a while (and because it's a cool meme on the interweb and I don't want to be thought of as uncool, perish the thought), here's a random selection from my iPod 1. Dance with You, Bowling for Soup 2. Don't Stand Another Chance, Janet Jackson 3. We'll Be Together, Sting 4. The Closest Thing to Crazy, Katie Melua 5. Dreaming, Blondie 6. Easy Come, Easy Go, Winger 7. Breakdance, Irene Cara 8. Never in a Million Years, The Boomtown Rats 9. I Want You Back, Bananarama 10. Suddenly Strange, Bic Runga Admittedly, a lot of the songs are from Billboard Top 100's of the past 2 decades that I still haven't got round to listening to, which should deflect any major criticism of my musical taste. Except the Irene Cara anyway. Go on, laugh... Why have I added all that dreck? I'm running out of music I like, so I'm scouring the archives in the hope of finding some good oldies. Life's pretty busy again. Well, I say busy...I feel busy but at the end of each day it seems like I've done nothing at all worth mentioning. Applying for a few more jobs, just finished my interview with Shanghai Expat's infamous ballroom and latin dance teacher, Ivo and went to a steak restaurant for a review tonight. The verdict? WRB -- wouldn't rush back. My summer hols start in a few weeks, which explains why some of you might have heard me beling out Stiff Cliff's "Summer Holiday" at the top of my lungs, startling the living bejeezus out of the dear old biddies on the metro. Honestly, what old woman wouldn't like Cliff Richard? Admittedly, he hasn't penetrated the China market yet, but still...where was I before my train of thought was so musically derailed? Ah yes, the hols. I'll be going to Yunnan in South-Western China, to generally chill out for a few months. Fresh air, peace and quiet and some real China...just what I need after the hustle and bustle, mess and stress of Shanghai. Yes...that's how ill this city is making me. I'm resorting to dire attempts at rhyming prose and overdosing on ellipses. Just one week to go, thank God.

Note to self

2005-07-25T14:03:00.000+08:00

Headbanging to Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody whilst wearing glasses is not a particularly good idea. Just yet another one of my lapses of common sense. But, hey, who wants to be common?

One of those days

2005-07-14T22:21:00.000+08:00

Or rather, two of those days. Those horrible kinds of days where you just want to put your head under the covers and pretend it's all a dream. The bile is starting to rise again, and it's starting to feel like you lot are in for another rant... The worst thing (well, one of the worst things) about Shanghai is the amount of homeless on the streets. Quite an incongruous sight in the wealthiest communist country in the world, no? They run the gamut, from the blind erhu players to the grubby people who crawl along the aisles of the metro system. The deformed, disfigured and despairing. The worst are the young children who should belong in a burns or reconstructive surgery unit. It's really disturbing watching them wandering the aisles of the metro, grunting at people to give them money. Even more disturbing is the fact that, in a lot of cases, this disfigurement wasn't accidental. A lot of them have been massively, permanently scarred for life by parents in search of the next meal. All to score some extra sympathy and a few extra kuai. It really is a sickening sight. The children of thalidomide, the burns victims, the mentally ill, the poverty-stricken migrants...all of them with their hands out begging for cash. The word on the street from most Shanghainese is that the majority of these are faking it, and can somehow support themselves with a pretty good lifestyle. Professional beggars, if you will. Considering the sheer number though, I don't see how that could be possible. Besides, who the hell would want to stand in the burning sun all day with their hand out? Do I pay them any heed or money? Rarely. If someone actually does something worth paying money for, like some of the blind erhu players, then I'll gladly chip in a few kuai. But sitting on the street corner and using your child as a goddamn bargaining chip? Not in a million years. I sometimes wonder whether I should be more generous to the begging population. After all, would it really hurt me to be down a few kuai every month? But then I think of how that could encourage others to follow the beggars' lead and become beggars themselves. People such as the empty-bottle-collecting migrants. It doesn't look like that much of a jump. Those extra few kuai I give away every month could lead to another child being mutilated by their parents or boss. Things are only going to get worse. The illegal migrant population is always increasing, with people from the countryside coming to Shanghai in search of streets paved in gold, only to discover a lifetime of picking up bottles or begging, and never being able to afford a ticket home. Some life. The growing inequality gap doesn't help either, with the rich getting richer and the poor becoming even more destitute. Shanghai's blessing of economic might is also its curse. Y'know, all in all, it's just your average communist Paradise on Earth.

Once upon a time in China: part one

2005-07-12T22:29:00.000+08:00

A long time ago, in the years before podcasts, metrosexuals and 9/11, I was studying Chinese at the University of Otago in Dunedin, New Zealand. I was in my second year at university, and still a bit of a geek -- an unstyled shock of ginger hair, thick glasses and a regrettable penchant for wearing too much black. A little while into the first semester there came the chance for a break from the then-mundanity of university life -- a chance to travel to China, and see the country that I had up until then only read and dreamt about. Needless to say, I relished the opportunity. A chance to see the Great Wall, visit the Forbidden City and meet the natives. I could learn so much... I got accepted for the English teaching program along with three other students from my university -- two of them classmates from the Chinese Department, and one of them a classmate's boyfriend. We flew out of New Zealand in about July 2001, and arrived in Beijing about ten hours later. It was nothing like I had imagined it to be. I forget now how I had originally envisioned it -- perhaps less modern, more laid back and traditional and, well, more Chinese. It was a bustling metropolis, full of tricycle taxis and construction work. I still vividly remember two buses zooming past either side of me as I stood at the airport. I was close enough to touch either one of them had I wanted to lose some fingers. The airport was a sterile and sombre affair, with a greyness about it that was only exceeded by that of its staff. Though policed by tough and overly-earnest looking officials, the customs and immigration checks passed without incident. This was it. I was in China! The first few days were hectic. We were shown around the sites of Beijing -- climbing the Great Wall at Badaling was an experience I'll never forget, as was exploring (and then getting bored of) the Forbidden City. The Temple of Heaven was a bit dull -- but then, after the initial spectacle of the Forbidden City, what could I expect? Throughout this time we were chaperoned by our host, Mr Deng, or, as I like to remember him, The Eyebrowless Wonder. We also visited a jade ornament factory and a traditional Chinese clinic. I had my pulse taken by a doctor, told I'd have liver trouble in the future and then passed along to the very friendly assistants with their very expensive medicines. Needless to say, I very emphatically declined their kind offer. The day after all that, we all sat in the lobby of the hotel and received our assignments and contracts. I'd originally believed I'd be in a medium-sized city called Beiping, a little to the south of the capital, Beijing. Little did I know that there had been a change of plans... To be continued...

2005-07-09T12:11:00.000+08:00

Is nothing sacred? Due to my "Sick Little Puppy" post, my dear old dad accused me (yes, me) of growing a conscience. Alas, I cannot claim that felicity. All I can claim is a healthy fear of offending people so much that I get my head kicked in. You'd see why if you read the rather insensitive post I have yet to put online. Of course, by building up to it so much, it's going to lose any trace of humour or offensiveness it once had, which is a shame. I'll just have to think of something worse to justify the secrecy. In that thought, here's a sick little joke to kill the time:

"Mummy, mummy, why do I keep running around in circles?"

Tune in later for the punchline...

I am one sick little puppy

2005-07-08T17:40:00.000+08:00

Um, I just wrote quite a sick little blog post. Well, not sick, but possibly glossing over some recent events which should probably be unglossoverable for now. Let me know if you want to see it, and I'll email it to you. Alternatively, if enough people receive it via email and still want to talk to me, I'll publish it here. Let me say before you read it, that I'm as sickened and shocked as anyone by the horrible events in London over the past day or so. My humour in the aforementioned blog post is just a coping mechanism, and I'm certainly not belittling anything that happened there. I'd say my heart goes out to everyone, but it's a horrible cliche. Nevertheless, that's how I feel. Incidentally, I've got Skype working, my username's alexceegee if anyone wants to Skype me!

Rant, bitch, moan, gripe

2005-07-03T10:01:00.000+08:00

Once again, it's taken me a while to get my blogging butt back into gear. Apologies for that, and without further ado... I'm starting to get really sick of Shanghai. Really, really sick of it. It's just all the little things building up. The way no one says please or thank you. The way people spit all over the street, jump queues and push like crazy on the metro. The way men here think it's de rigeur to wear silky white socks with suits. It just makes me want to beat them to death with their own bad fashion sense. This is supposed to be China's city of the future, their big push to be seen as a developed country. In reality it's artificial and seems like a draft copy of a real city. Small but important details are just missing. Even in the fanciest, most expensive department stores, the toilet stalls have no toilet paper. Okay, so maybe the janitor forgot to refill them. At least that's what I thought until I saw that there were no toilet roll holders whatsoever. The rationale is that people should bring their own paper with them. Really. Of course, some of us only realize this after it's too late. I won't go into details... It was bad enough in Taiwan having to dump used toilet paper into the trash can, but at least I knew where I stood there. Now, if I want to play it safe, I have to consider the state of my digestive system before I leave the house. What joy. While I'm on a roll, the Chinglish here is really starting to drive me mental. At first it was kind of endearing and quite a good laugh, but now it just seems so unprofessional. It's one thing for a small corner shop with a hand-written sign to cock up the language, but quite another when it's the municipal government. Why do they even bother using the language if they're going to use it incorrectly? How can anyone take the city, even the country, seriously when they see signs proclaiming "come live future 21 century apartment?" I'll have to admit though, that some of it still gives me a good laugh, like the "exploding joss-stick chicken fuck pieces" I recently saw on a menu. The worst thing though is that everything seems so short-term. I've got used to the constant slamming of jackhammers but the attitudes of the people and the government just freak me out sometimes. It's always a quick fix here. Things like people quitting their long-term careers to intern at L'Oreal, just so they can have a nicer brand on their business card. I'm sounding like a complete snobby expat now, but I'm really past caring. Maybe I just need a holiday, but most of the time I end up wishing I were somewhere back in the old world. This camel can't take many more straws before he needs a visit to the chiropractor.

Writer's Block

2005-06-01T16:16:00.000+08:00

So far I've done the ironing, hung out some washing, got rid of all my old magazines and watched a couple of episodes of Doctor Who, just to put off writing. I've been a bit sick of playing with words recently, to be brutally honest. My job as a proofreader put me off the English language for a while, hardly surprising when I had to deal with things like: "able to work harmoniously with glorious team work spirit" day in, day out. Still, it's all over now, and I can get my arse back into my writing seat and have a bit of fun. Speaking of writing, I'm now a paid-up writer for Shanghai Expat, in charge of writing articles and reviewing a few restaurants, expense account included. Aaah, life is good like that in some ways. In other good news I won some tickets for a comedy show recently, but had to sell them on because I was busy that night with a commercial for Nescafe. C'est la vie. It hasn't all been milk and honey though. I almost got killed the other night when a cyclist with all the self-preservation instincts of a chronically-depressed lemming cruised right in front of the taxi I was in. Scary stuff. I'm still alive, just about, but will try to remember to use my seatbelt in future. Well, until the next time I get in a cab anyway. Traffic rules here are completely different depending on whether you're a pedestrian, cyclist, motorcyclist or car driver. I have yet to decipher exactly how different, but they all have one thing in common: They all want to kill me. This is the only logical explanation, because I refuse to believe anyone could drive that poorly accidentally. Remember, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you. I think I've been slowly going crazy over the past couple of months. My guess is it's from staying in Shanghai too long, sucking in the pollution and regularly being crushed, pushed and shoved in the underground. I desperately need to get away from it all. Xinjiang should be far enough I think. All I'll have to worry about there is getting a jihad declared on myself, nothing compared to daily life in Shanghai.

What if...?

2005-05-05T22:12:00.000+08:00

Few people may realize it, but those two simple words can be the most dangerous in the English language. These words have held so many back, but at the same time pushed others to heights that few would dare imagine. I'm not like a lot of people. I don't care so much for a stable job or high income. I live my life on the road less travelled, often just upping sticks and going wherever my fancy takes me -- that's what led me to Gansu (albeit accidentally,) Taiwan, Inner Mongolia, and finally, here, Shanghai. Sure, this nomadic lifestyle has its downsides, like language and culture difficulties, as well as people forgetting who I am within a few years of last seeing them, but I reckon it's worth it. I'm a knowledge junkie -- I live to learn, and if I stay in one place too long I get itchy feet. I have to experience new things to stay alive. Without that, sure, I'll still exist, but I won't feel alive any more. If you're happy in your life, then good for you, I'm happy for you, truly. It might sound a bit insincere because I can, on occasion, be a complete prick about how I've ventured into the unknown, fought valiant battles against the elements and lived to die another day. But really, if you're happy, then that's all that should matter in your life. The problem is, so many people aren't happy. And yet, they do little to change their lives, and the reason all boils down to those two little words. They get the idea to do something grand, and then they think of all the insignificant details that could derail their plan -- "what if I can't earn enough money to survive?", "what if I get sick?", what if, what if. Even typing those words I feel a little reluctant to go somewhere new myself. That's how powerful they are. I'm typing a bloody article fighting against those words, and yet they still hold sway over me. Yeah, sure, whatever you do there may be problems and obstacles in your path, but 90% of the time those are things it's impossible to see beforehand, so why worry? Even more to the point, how many times is it possible to get killed on your morning commute? I walk to work every day, and the traffic alone would scare a lot of people, let alone the carnivorous doors of the metro system. What to do? I could stay wrapped in a blanket in bed and pray for the best, never leaving the house, or I could face the world head on. It's just the same with anything else, except the scale seems so much bigger when you've never done it before. Life's too short to be controlled by two little words and a world of improbability. I'm not advising anyone to throw caution to the wind, but when it comes to looking before leaping, too many people focus on the looking, sometimes discounting the leap before they've even thought it through. Whatever may go wrong, the human spirit usually finds a way to pull through, and even if it all goes to Hell, at least you've learned something and likely become better from it. I know if it hadn't been for the difficulties (putting it lightly) that I encountered in Gansu, I wouldn't have had the self-confidence to try to make it as a model and dancer in the here-and-now. If nothing else, at least it's something to boast to the grandchildren about...assuming you survive that is. In the words of ~~Nike, "just do it"~~ me, "get your arse into gear and just do something for chrissake."

Reader's Digest

2005-04-26T10:10:00.000+08:00

Due to my sad Bloglines (and anything with RSS) addiction, my regular blogging has gone downhill just slightly, so from now on it'll be digests all the way, at least until Bloglines suffers some downtime.

Fantastic Bloglines tutorial

Now (drum roll), I'm probably able to reveal the job that I'll be getting soon, you know, the one I've been trying to feebly build curiosity for. I'll be editing and organizing a few articles for Shanghai Expat, a website providing forums and organizing social events for expats in Shanghai. Networking heaven...and who knows, it could lead to bigger things. World domination baby, world domination. In my attempt to corner the expat forum/events market, grind my competitors into the dust and get fired for conflict of interests, I'll also be taking over the reigns of a friend's expat organization, ChinaSense, which is yet another organization for expat support. It's getting to the point where every bloody expat has his or own organization now, so it's probably time to make like Qin Shi Huang* and "liberate" them from themselves. More updates on my ~~pillaging, blackmail, bribery and horseheads in beds~~ peaceful reunification as and when it becomes available.

* So, what could possibly make you think I'm using esoteric knowledge to lord it over others?

My traffic-related grisly death has once again been dodged in the past week, through my lightning-fast reflexes and almost uncanny powers of observation. I'm pretty sure that more readers will believe me when they hear the reports of my family when they try to cross the road...assuming they survive, that is. It really is the quick and the dead when it comes to crossing the road here in the Whore of the Orient.

* Why yes, I am quite overly-proud that I've managed to work in two references to westerns in the past week or so

Oh, apparently I look like a particular 80's American popstar, according to some guy at the coffee morning who couldn't remember which one. Maybe it's all the heavy eye makeup and mullets I've been so attached to recently. This is as well as looking like Boris Becker, having the mannerisms and stance of David Bowie and having the odd distinction Mick Jagger's lips. Can we all say identity crisis? Because, you know, I've never seen my "dad" and Boris Becker together at the same time...which can only mean...Oh my God...they're the same person! Which reminds me of a terrible joke:

A computer salesman visits a company president for the purpose of selling the president one of the latest talking computers. Salesman: "This machine knows everything. I can ask it any question and it'll give the correct answer. Computer, what is the speed of light?" Computer: 186,282 miles per second. Salesman: "Who was the first president of the United States?" Computer: George Washington. President: "I'm still not convinced. Let me ask a question. Where is my father?" Computer: Your father is fishing in Georgia. President: "Hah!! The computer is wrong. My father died over twenty years ago!" Computer: Your mother's husband died 22 years ago. Your father just landed a twelve pound bass.

Terrible, I know. There was, I'm sure, some more blah to write, but now that I'm sleep-deprived and caffeine-addled I'm positive that I couldn't remember even if I wanted to. Such is life.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

2005-04-22T12:11:00.000+08:00

Real life's been getting in the way of blogging lately, so it's just going to be a short summary article for today. The Good

Got a pretty good new job in the pipeline, though don't know how much I should say about it just yet. I'll spill the beans when I actually start, which'll probably be quite soon.
One of my teaching jobs is getting better and better, which is kind of strange, because it's teaching kids. Anyone who's discussed this matter with me knows I'm more of a 'duct-tape them up and leave them be' kind of guy, but I'm actually enjoying this. Only one and a half hours a week, but they pay well and on time, and even provide free drinks for me now. Plus the headmistress is asking me for private lessons, so even more money in the bank...
Don't really know whether to classify this in good or bad, but the C-G clan (or at least half of them) are going to be rolling into Shanghai soon, and guess who's going to be stuck babysitting them? Well, things could be worse...at least they're bring me some Body Shop deodorant.
Had some amazingly cheap Italian food with some ex-work colleagues last night which exceeded all expectations for the price. Actually some of the best pizza in Shanghai to date. If only I could remember the name...

The Bad

Not being able to cross a road in the past few days without almost getting mashed into a thin greasy smear on the road by ~~idiot~~ wanker drivers who insist on turning while the traffic lights are red. They're either bastards or colour blind. Either way, I hope whoever let them behind the wheel is getting what they deserve (i.e. their goolies being plucked off)
The constant bodily orchestra I hear every day whilst walking the streets, which has been rather more difficult to bear lately due to my iPod earphones shuffling off their (very obviously) mortal coil. Hoiks, coughs, sneezes, farts, the sound of mucus missiles splattering across the pavement, you name it, I hear it. All we need now is armpit farting and we'll be in the Guinness Book of Records for the city with the highest density of one-man bands. And of course, the amputated beggars add a certain je ne sais quoi to the overall ambience of the city -- a perfect visual to match the stirring music of the human body at its finest.

The Ugly
Hmmmm...not a whole lot really, except the constant bloody roadworks everywhere in Shanghai, but then I'm used to that by now. Really, I just needed an 'ugly' category to make the title work. Sad, eh?

If it ain't broke, don't fix it. If it is broke, waste several hours on a new template...

2005-04-19T12:04:00.000+08:00

Right, lots of stuff on the redesign. Comments finally work again, so I'll be expected to see a torrent, nay, a flood of comments from now on. Stuff I've been reading recently is on the left, pics and stuff are on the right. It's still a bit of a work in progress, and some things are still b0rked, such as the footer. If you find any bugs or have any opinions, then leave a comment and I'll get back to you, now that I finally have a way to comment on my own damn blog... More posts soon

Why why why why why?

2005-04-10T23:58:00.000+08:00

Sometimes the mind just boggles...Yes, they are taking The Mummy to the stage. Because...? It's not really the kind of movie I'd expect to be adapted to a "book of the film," let alone a stage performance, but hey, each to their own, right? I'm just wondering what's next.

Vin Diesel's xXx on Ice?
SuperBabies: Baby Geniuses 2: The Opera?
Milli Vanilli: Re-imagined by the Royal Philarmonic Orchestra?

Having said all this, I was one of the first to scoff when Once Were Warriors went live action. What ever happened to that anyway?

"He has never had a partner or sex because of his micropenis"

2005-04-10T23:18:00.000+08:00

Possibly one of the greatest quotes I have ever read...more here.

All Better Now

2005-04-09T01:16:00.000+08:00

Despite how I may look in that picture, my health and voice have in fact returned, much to my glee, and much to the detriment of others. Really, this post is no more than an excuse to finally kick off my photoblogging. The pitch is this: For every day I get less than ten pageviews I will add another photo of myself, and the only way you'll be able to stop seeing my ugly mug is by visiting more often.

Yes, this plan is massively, inherently flawed. But it's 1 am and I'm addled on Coca-cola, so what do you expect?

More Signal, Less Noise

2005-04-06T19:45:00.000+08:00

That's the mantra for today. The signal being stuff that people might actually have a vague interest in, and the noise being the random self-indulgent stuff that's been the mainstay of this blog for the past few weeks. Honestly, it's getting so self-absorbed it's starting to imitate a LiveJournal! Coming up next, Daily Routine: The 9 Step Program to Becoming More Alexish, and The Dirt Under Alex's Fingernails: Is It All Bad? So, expect some more "signal" -- articles on technology, Shanghai and random funny stuff, as well as your regularish dose of "noise" -- my incessant yammering about yours truly. Really, I can't see myself not blogging about myself, for the simple reason that it beats emailing everyone in my fanclub in England, New Zealand and just about everywhere else. That, and I'm obviously too monstrously vain to consider it for even a second.

2005-04-05T10:55:00.000+08:00

Well, it looks like I'm finally getting over the flu, seeing as my throat no longer feels like I've been eating every day at the 24/7 All-U-Can-Eat Sandpaper Bar and Buffet. I was a bit worried that I'd have to set up a gambling pool to finance my recovery, y'know, take bets on my next symptoms. Even menstrual cramps wouldn't have surprised me the day before yesterday. Said illness wasn't improved by my little stunt on Saturday evening, where I was pushed onto the stage at Yakexi to do a solo disco dance...Damn you Molly! That ended up with a coughing attack that lasted for 10 minutes and me picking up my lungs a few minutes later. In vaguely related news I've now quit the financial job, since I have a nasty feeling it's overwork that caused this in the first place. Really, it had to be the first to go since I wasn't going to get any income from it for at least another three months. Still, plenty more in the pipeline, including a very interesting offer from a French restaurant who want me to do publicity for them. God only knows why, since I can't speak French, have very little experience with promotion and know nothing about the restaurant business. Must be my natural charm and boyish good looks I suppose...

Give Me Your Snot-encrusted, Phlegm-shooting, Aching Masses

2005-03-31T12:29:00.000+08:00

Christ on a bike, I feel so utterly wrecked today, it feels as though The Maglev's hit me...got really stinking flu, aches and pains, and a cough that sounds like I've been on a twenty-a-day habit. I just can't get a lucky break health-wise...if I'm not green with food-posing, it's a buggered-up immune system, which I'm guessing is from overwork. Yeah, that's right, moi, overwork. Careful there...you're probably laughing so hard that you'll get a hernia. Misery loves company after all. Excuse me, while I wipe off the phlegm I just deposited on the screen. Ahem...Anyway, the new job's mindfuckingly tedious, interspersed with only moments of irrational exuberance whenever we hear the Australian Consul's answerphone kick in (G'day!) or the pop-rock hold music from some of the Scandinavian companies...it's all fun and games in the heady world of personal financial marketing! And another thing. Chopsticks. Mother-fucking Chopsticks. Of all the bastard songs that anyone could conceivably choose with which to torture people on the phone, why the fuck Chopsticks? Day in, day out, all I want to do is ram (with considerable force, I might add) a few pairs of chopsticks in every conceivable nook and cranny of the composer of that turd-encrusted sorry excuse for a ditty. (Deep breath, I'm already fragile enough, I don't want to go straining myself.) In happier news, I've found my new favourite drink of all time...in the entire world. It's Mongolian Yoghurt, a bizarre mish-mash of sheep's cheese, sour yoghurt, green raisins and hard-as-nails muesli. Believe it or not, I haven't lost my sanity (what little I have left) as well as several of my bodily functions (No, not those ones, get your mind out of the gutter.)

A True Easter Story

2005-03-25T11:35:00.000+08:00

Just remembering it's Easter made me think of this moving little tale: Spider-man's Greatest Bible Stories. Interestingly, I also found this while I was googling it.

What's in a Name?

2005-03-24T18:08:00.000+08:00

Well, it looks like I'm finally running out of name-related clichés for the titles of my posts. Just a few quick links which may prove of interest to anyone who's been eagerly following the unfolding drama of Does-Hu-Mean-Moustache-Gate. Incidentally, our Mr (or Ms) Mysterioso still hasn't agreed to stake their honour on a duel. No surprise there... Anyway, without further ado:

...and that's a wrap.

Plugging away

2005-03-24T17:58:00.000+08:00

Recently a friend contacted me, asking me to put the words

Travel China, experience the wonders of Travel in China, the Real China, Ancient China, Modern China, at its very best.

on my blog. Of course I immediately refused. How could I compromise my artistic vision by selling out like that? All for a few measly guanxi. Honestly...

Travel China, experience the wonders of Travel in China, the Real China, Ancient China, Modern China, at its very best.

How is it conceivable I could debase myself by plugging someone else? This blog's about navel-gazing all the way, baby.

Five and counting

2005-03-24T17:46:00.000+08:00

Yep, that's how many jobs I have right now, depending on how you count them. That doesn't include my other pastimes, such as

being a high-class gigolo (because it's not just Asians in the West that are exoticized, after all)
begging on street corners, while carrying a fake baby on my back and waving my cup at foreigners
donning hood and cowl and prowling the dark streets of Shanghai as her guardian caped crusader
entertaining the masses and bringing joy to the hearts of millions by blogging

Yep, it's enough to give me grey hairs/lead to a premature nervous breakdown. It's not just the workload either, it's listening to canned muzak while on hold, an experience which sorely makes me want to beat hold-machine-manufacturers to death with their own spinal columns. So now my true sociopathic tendencies are revealed... It doesn't help that the air-conditioner in this office only "conditions" in the same way that Pavlov conditioned his dogs, that is making them do completely unnatural things. In my case it's sweating several times my own body weight within a single day, a feat which I heretofore thought to be impossible.

Dictionaries at Fifty Paces...

2005-03-22T09:10:00.000+08:00

Hi to the person who's adamant that "hu" doesn't mean moustache. Rather than getting stuck into a quagmire of argument on my blog, I've got a better idea. I hereby challenge you to a duel, mano-a-mano, rapier wit against rapier wit.*

*If you can call repeating the epithet of "superbrain" twice in as many comments "rapier"

I have no idea who you are, so for now I'll just dub you ACN (Anonymous Chinese Naysayer). I have a hnuch you're one of three people:

Little Miss Horse: If it is you, then your spelling has improved a lot since our MSN conversations.
Little Miss Square: Though I'd have thought you'd have more important things on your mind right now. Besides, I don't know how well your Chinese stacks up to mine...
Little Black: The only other person I know who can both speak Chinese and access comments on my blog.

So, which of you three muppets is it? Contact me if you dare...

Comments Roundup

2005-03-21T13:03:00.000+08:00

And, now, ladies and gentlemen, introducing our new semi-weekly feature: Comments Roundup [canned applause]. This is my chance to be a slightly less masculine version of Anne Robinson from Points of View and reply to all my readers' comments. So, what's first out of the mailbag this week? First of all, despite the thorn in my side who claimed "Hu" (胡) doesn't mean moustache, it does in fact mean beard/moustache*, so there. And as for the anonymous hero who left the comment:

'Hu' means mustache? Wow! i've got so much to learn.

Hey, join the club, we've all got a lot to learn, young Padawan.

*According to Wikipedia and MDBG free online Chinese-English dictionary.

For the uniquely on-topic commenter who banged out:

Is it ok to capitalize preposition? [sic]

Well, last I checked (prep)s were pretty much the same as any other part of a sentence, so just use standard sentence case. As for the mammoth essay of a comment, which consisted of:

Wikiphobia?

'fraid not, a phobia is a fear of something. For example, in my case I suffer from trackpantsandtruckercapsphobia. What I'm mostly afflicted with is Wikiphilia, the exact opposite of a phobia. Tune in next week, sameish time, same channel. Leave a comment with your name and you too can achieve your 15 minutes of fame with the movers and shakers that make up my readership. Remember: Posts mean prizes!*

*If you define "prize" as getting your name in type on this site, assuming I can remember.

A Rose By Any Other Name

2005-03-19T00:57:00.000+08:00

NB: Don't get offended if you can't take a joke. I take the piss just as much out of foreign names after all. With China becoming a major world power these days, some people may be getting worried about the scourge of "the yellow peril." I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about, or at least give you a way to calm your fears. All for the low, low price of fifty-nine ninety-five. Sign up in the next five minutes and receive a free Ginsu knife set -- it slices, it dices, it...uh...something else that ends in -ices...anyway, moving right along. For most of my childhood I was under the ridiculous impression that most Chinese were called names like "Lotus Blossom" and "Three Autumn Leaves" and other romantic bunkum. Everyone knows real Chinese have names like Hu Jintao, Mao Tse-tung and Jet Li, right? Woah up there, Boy Wonder, only half right. Some people don't realise that these names have meanings themselves that are pretty easy to decipher. And when you do decipher them, especially the surnames, they sound rather a lot like failed candidates for the Mr. Men or characters from Cluedo (Clue! for any American readers.) Hearing about how powerful Mao was during his heyday may put the fear up you that the Chinese may soon be running the world, coming to our country, stealing our women, etc, etc. But when you realise that, for all his power, the literal translation of his name is Mr Hair for Chrissake, well, it kind of takes the edge off things. Especially when you consider how little of it he had. Other tidbits for your perusal:

Hu Jintao = Mr Moustache
Jet Li = Mr Plum
Fong Sai Yuk = Mr Square (close, but no cigar)
Wong Fei Hong = Mr Yellow

Of course, that's not to say English names can't be just as stupid. My first Chinese name (up until a few weeks ago) meant "King of Dove Soap" to some people who heard it, which just goes to show something or other. And who can forget their parents' constant jokes whenever they heard about Deng Xiaoping and immediately segued into discussions on manure.*

*Please, say it wasn't just my parents. Try saying his name if you don't get it...

By the way: Why, yes, I do have rather a crush on Wikipedia at the moment.

Chinglishness

2005-03-15T15:23:00.000+08:00

Hi to Shirazi, my newest commenter! I'd add this as a followup comment myself, but being here in Mother China I can't actually comment on my own blog because that gets the censors' knickers in a twist. But hey, it gets your name mentioned on the front page, so it's probably all worth it. On the subject of my Chinese-ness. Well...that's a thorny one. I'm actually English, though I've lived in New Zealand for several years too and been in and out of China four times now.* Usually when I'm in NZ I feel more Chinese than I do when I'm in China, for the obvious reason that the Chineseness is so much more in-your-face over here. Sure, there are lots of Chinese in New Zealand, but that's just a small cross-section of Chinese society, the ones rich and daring enough to strike out into another country. In short, hardly typical of most Chinese. On a related note, most of the Americans here in Shanghai have a very blue-state mentality, thank Goddess.

*If you count Taiwan as part of China. And being here in Shanghai I find it's usually a good idea to follow the one-China policy, whether I really believe in it or not. Just to be on the safe side...

In short, I'm a little ethnically confused, though no longer in so much denial about my Englishness.* Some of my Chinese classmates from university actually thought I was a Qing dynasty prince in a former life.

*Which I'll try to tackle in another post. That's a long story...

Incidentally, I can communicate in Chinese at probably an intermediate level. Of course, I could be much better if I spent more time studying and less time blogging.

You're not in Guatemala now, Doctor Ropata

2005-03-15T14:34:00.000+08:00

Back home in New Zealand, we have a hospital drama called Shortland Street, a series so utterly tedious that the only reason it seems to get an audience at all is because most of the New Zealand population have been an extra in it at least once in their lives*. With that in mind, I'm considering pulling the same crap on my blog, with the hope of getting more hits from you, my dear audience. Basically I'm going to do is give "shout-outs" to all my "homies" and "biyatches", and maybe "write" a fawning "testimonial" about "them" ala Friendster**.

*Yours truly played the role of a young nazi a few years on this paragon of fine entertainment. **Yes, "those quotes" are supposed to be "ironic." Thanks to Eats, shoots and leaves

This'll hopefully kick off in the next few days, depending on whether I still give a sod or not. Leave your name in the comments if you want me to bang out a few lines about you. I've already got a frequent commenter in mind for the first one, but act soon, and you too can achieve fame and fortune through being mentioned on the web. The obvious plus side of this is that when I get too pickled in alcohol/uncaring to remember who my friends are, I can always look back on this and wonder even more.

Where the Wilde Things are

2005-03-13T10:11:00.000+08:00

A frequent reader of this fine journal* recently described me as being somewhat similar to Oscar Wilde. Presumably she meant I'm considered immoral by a large section of society, have flamboyant homosexual tendencies and will likely end up breaking rocks in jail. After all, it can't be because of my writing, surely?

*Don't "fine journal? What fine journal?" me. Yes, this one, the one you're reading now, believe it or not.

Hear that sickening crack? That was the sound of my neck collapsing under my increasingly bloated head...

Please, no light bulb jokes...ever again

2005-03-13T10:03:00.000+08:00

This should've gone through a few days ago, but my computer was sulking at the time... Saturday in Shanghai is expat day, the day when about 50 foreigners and Shanghainese drag their sorry bums out of bed to meet at Starbucks.* Last Saturday was business as usual, with 40 or 50 of us showing up and taking over the whole upper floor. Of course, the regulars all had a good laugh at me being decked out in a suit and tie. Since I'd just come from an interview. After much coffee had been spurted through noses and the gales of laughter had subsided, I got down to my usual meeting of new faces and the ritual dishing out of business cards, a practice that has been handed down for generations upon generations. Or not. You be the judge of that one.

*Huaihai Rd, near Parksons, if anyone else is interested.

After that I joined some others and ended up at a party at a Xinjiang* restaurant, Yakexi, where we feasted upon lamb kebabs and got tiddly on cheap beer. This was followed by yours truly being dragged up to dance by the dancing queen and a few renditions of Eidelweiss** by a 5-year-old girl and an ancient baritone. Next, we were called to shake our booty to the instructions of a 10-year-old dancing girl, which I think I managed rather well. So, if you ever want a blond-haired blue-eyed Xinjiang female-style dancer, you know who to call. Special rates for birthdays and Bar Mitzvahs!

*The Muslim area of China, in the North-west. Famous for its aversion to sweet, tender pork and its abundance of sexy dancing girls (the latter of which isn't so popular in most of the Muslim world, much to my dismay) **Seemingly the only English song that half the Chinese population know. There are surely populations of Chinese peasants in the middle of nowhere who know this song. I think it's pre-programmed at birth.

But, believe it or not, that wasn't the climax of the show. Soon after the dancing we were approached by a harmless-looking, wrinkly old man. But, as my dear old mother told me, looks can be decieving*. This old man was really a metal-skulled martial arts master who could crush my skull like an egg were I ever to antagonise him. He proceeded to procure a light bulb, which he tested by smacking it repeatedly against my head. Seriously. Not that I underestimated the hardness of light bulbs in the past or anything, but it bloody well ached for a good while afterwards. After that he wrapped it in a hankerchief and swung it at his own head, after which ensued the characteristic bang-crunch-tinkle of glass shattering. His audience were captivated at this point, either by his act or by phoning for the men in white coats to cart him off.

*This is in fact ~~a barefaced lie~~ poetic license. What my mother really says is something more along the lines of "keep your kidneys warm," and "oh dear, it's all turned to jelly."

How could he follow such a stunning spectacle? By opening said napkin and casually EATING some of the glass. Apparently he can do this because he's a Tai Chi master, which made me decide to take up Tai Chi for all of five minutes until I failed to see the practical benefits of glass-eating.*

*Other than saving on the washing-up of course. This also reminds me of the time when I overdosed on Batman and took to the streets to exact bloody vengeance for the brutal slaying of my parents. No, wait, hang on...

Lubbly Jubbly

2005-03-01T22:07:00.000+08:00

Looks like everything is coming together vis-a-vis the visa problem. Got a one month tourist a few days ago and am converting that to a 6 month business within a couple of weeks. I love it when a plan comes together... All's not so quiet on the jobs front either. To think that as soon as I left Kai En I was worried about finding more employment. Ha ha ha...I crack myself up sometimes. It's been pretty much a never ending stream of opportunities since then -- interviews for kindergartens, English centres, kids schools and soon a university or two. I'm even getting enquiries about working in sales for some finance company based in Hong Kong. Not to mention the copy-editing I'm currently doing. So, things are all go for the next week or so. Maybe next month I'll even have time to check out some new apartments.

The name game

2005-03-01T15:31:00.001+08:00

I'm bored of my blog's name again. Free beer* for anyone who can come up with something more interesting or just plain less sucky. Preferably something to do with me. I've been killing so many braincells stressing over visa/work/apartment/modelling stuff lately that the few that remain are in short supply, and are permanently engaged in remembering how to breathe and not falling off chairs, so I don't really have any to spare for this marathon endeavour. Leave any ideas with your name and email in the comments.

*Steinlager, whenever I get to meet you. All rights reserved. Offer valid in all countries except where it's not. Judges decision is final. Product may cause blindness in pregnant mothers. Warranty null and void in event of tampering.

Just in case anyone was in doubt of whether I was gettting enuogh slep...

The name game

2005-03-01T15:31:00.000+08:00

*Steinlager, whenever I get to meet you. All rights reserved. Offer valid in all countries except where it's not. Judges decision is final. Product may cause blindness in pregnant mothers. Warranty null and void in event of tampering. Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball

Just in case anyone was in doubt of whether I was gettting enuogh slep...

Dancing in the street

2005-03-01T14:58:00.000+08:00

I've recently realized how batshit crazy I must look when I "walk" down the street. Now that I'm jacked into my iPod everywhere I go, it's difficult not to get into a groove whilst walking, and even end up dancing at the same time. Being a foreigner it's quite easy to get away with that kind of thing -- some people will stare at you like you've grown a third head no matter what you do. I figure if they're going to stare anyway, then I might as well give them something to stare about. It's not just the dancing either -- half the time I look like a sad new-romantic/punk/rummage-sale fashion victim, spiking up my hair and using ties for belts. Haven't started switching belts for ties yet, but knowing me that's just around the corner, even if I do end up looking like a BDSM* freak. Also, I'd better start ordering in the greasepaint in bulk, in case I decide to go Ziggy Stardust or Marilyn Manson.

*Bondage, Domination, Sado-masochism. Please, for the love of God, don't ask me how I know that. Some stories are better left untold. At least without financial compensation...

And as for the random renditions of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" on crowded streets...well, don't get me started. Believe me, my girlfriend wishes I never had. I seem to be taking more after my dear old parents day after day, spending all my time GBM.* So, if you hear an out-of-tune lunatic mangling Judy Garland songs in Shanghai, just blame the parents.

*getting back marbles. You know, the ones I lost...

In other rhythm-related news I was dragged onto stage in my favourite Xinjiang restaurant last night to boogie solo with the dancing girl. Having no idea how to copy their style of Bollywood-slash-belly dancing I made a complete asshat of myself. Still, all publicity is good publicity. In yet more gettin'-down-related news (my thesaurus is running out of synonyms for 'dance') I may be joining a Flamenco* class. Hey, it's something to do, and if the occasion arises that I'm forcibly dragged onto stage in a Latin bar, at least I'll be able to survive the embarrassment without too much emotional scarring.

*Not in fact a type of bird, which a lot of locals get it confused with

Forgive the footnotes -- I'm going through a phase of irrational aversion to brackets.

Fuckshit

2005-02-28T23:24:00.000+08:00

Well, it looks like the Milan agency was a cruel hoax. I've just contacted 2morrowmodels via their official email address and they have no representatives in Shanghai. Fuck fuck fuck. That means I'll have to take back all those boasts... Oh well, better for me to have found out rather than to take them up on the offer and get fucked over. Just to finish: FUCK

2morrowmodels

2005-02-24T22:59:00.000+08:00

Does anyone know anything about this agency? It's based in Milan, they're the one I've been scouted by. Any info would be gladly appreciated, I'll even go so far as to break my habit of living on the breadline and buy a beer for whoever helps me out. Such genorosity is rarely becoming the selfish bastard that I am, so you know how much this means to me!

Small fishes, big pond

2005-02-24T22:24:00.000+08:00

Believe it or not, China is actually full of ethnic minorities. Not that you'd ever know if you didn't live in China, because 90% are Han Chinese, i.e. Chinese that look "Chinese". But dig a little deeper and you'll find about 40 or 50 ethnic minorities, some of whom look totally different to the Han and some of whom look exactly the same as the Han but with different hats. Yep, that's how I tell if someone is ethnic, by the absurdity of their headgear. One of the most misrepresented and sorely-misunderstood of these ethnic groups is the Xiangyang-ese, a group that can only be loosely described as ethnic, since no genetic link has been found that runs through the group. Though foreigners pass them all the time in Shanghai, they are always considered as crooks and cheaters. It's my aim to put the record straight with some of the beautiful Xiangyangese language I've picked up. Remarkably, it has very little in common with any known Chinese dialect, and research is currently underway to unearth a "proto-Xiangyangese" dialect. Here's the scope of my knowledge, language-wise: Xiangyangese - English

SirDVDWatchShoes?	Hello my dear sir, and how are you this bright and sunny morning?
RolexNikeAdidas	Suit you, sir. You look delightfully dapper and charming, I must say
GirlsDVDsYouWant?	Excuse me Madam, but I appear to have lost my way. Would you be so kind as to assist me with directions?
Hashish?	Gracious, young scallywag, you look rather worn out and no mistake. Here, let me help you out

More to follow, as we (David Attenborough voice) as we further delve into the fascinating lives of these outcasts of society.

2005-02-23T23:06:00.000+08:00

Things are certainly looking up. I just found out that the Milanese (Milanian?) model agency I spoke to a few days ago has accepted me to be a male model/actor. They even mentioned working overseas, particularly Johannesburg. Wow wow wow. Of course, I'll have to check out if they're really legit, but if they are then this is going to be the biggest opportunity I've had. Cross your fingers for me, because if this pans out your regular whores-and-coke programming will return soon. Don't touch that dial...

Selling out and cashing in

2005-02-22T11:32:00.000+08:00

Due to my new found poverty (well, by my standards), I'll soon be adding some ads to Herbivorous Serenade, just to see how it goes. Not that I'm begging you to click on them or anything, but just ask yourself: Do you really want to do something as evil as deprive poor Alex of his coke and whores lifestyle? Then please, please click on the ads...think of the hookers if nothing else. In other news, I was in a commercial yesterday for a soft drink. It was a pretty big budget affair -- the director was flown in from England and the main star was Zhang Yu Ning, part of China's national soccer team. Lots of other actors there to chat too as well, including one guy I already knew from the June Yamada gig, and a German stunt actor. Hopefully this'll lead to much bigger things in future, you know, my face on the cover of Vogue, my, uh, other parts in the centrefold of Playgirl magazine. I was also offered a part as an extra in a movie about a famous Chinese author on Saturday, but I had to turn it down due to the visa-and-job-induced sheer panic and terror over the previous few days. Still, things are pretty calm now, except for the fact that I'm as poor as a churchmouse and going to be pushed onto a one month tourist visa. Nil desperandum though, I'll get through these dark days and come out a better person, cleansed, purified and a true son of God. Hallelujah!

Chinese New Yawn

2005-02-17T01:09:00.000+08:00

And the first prize for godawful title of the year goes to... Chinese New Year, aka Spring Festival, is supremely boring here in Mother China. Even Shanghai, the Pearl of the Orient, is mindfuckingly dull at this time of year. It's so bad that only now can I wake from my boredom-induced stupor and really see how banal the whole enterprise really is. Sure, in New Zealand, and I guess most other non-Chinese countries, it's a great festival -- lion dances, dragon dances, lots of great food, more dances, um, even more dances. Lanterns too. Here though, it's so bloody boring. A whole week off, punctuated by random attacks of fireworks. The first day it's pretty cool. Sure, the shops are closed, but you have plenty of food at home and it's nice to see the pretty flashes of colour. By day 5 though, you're down to eating toenail clippings and venturing out into the chilly Shanghai air in nought but a loincloth and primitive bow, shooting at the strays and gorging greedily on their pathetic excuse for entrails. Ahem. Where was I? Oh, and by that time you're getting sick of living in an audio-visual simulation of Iraq, minus corpses. Everywhere you go it's flash bang snap crackle pop fuck-off-and-die. Still, it's over now and I can snatch back my sculpted yet macho physique from the slavering jaws of utter starvation. No more toenails for me, nosiree, only the finest 5rmb gourmet dishes from now on. And I can now walk down the street without jumping out of my skin and suffering random incidences of firework-induced blindness and deafness. Man, the Pinball Wizard kid ain't got nothin' on me.

Another C-G is in the house...

2005-02-17T00:56:00.000+08:00

Watch out Otago... My darling little bro Adam is soon to be starting at my dear old Alma Mater, The University of Otago, in New Zealand. I still can't quite believe it, he can't be 18 already, surely. Egads, the tike's barely out of nappies and already he's going out into the big wide world. What terrible misfortunes could sully one so naive, so innocent, so pure as the driven snow, Goddamnit? Of course, he has his wonderful big bro to guide him, to pick him up when he falls, to make sure he doesn't make the same mistakes that I once did. Or at least he would, if (a) I was actually in the same area, let alone the same continent, and (b) I gave a monkey's. Still, I'm sure he'll have a great time, and in all seriousness (Gosh, isn't that a novelty), good luck to you l'il bro. Knock'em dead tiger and other such motivating slogans. Oh, and wouldn't it be weird if he ended up in the same hall as Nanaaya? And they became friends and went out drinking together, and, and... And I'll shut up now because I'm starting to sound like a delusional teenage girl. Besides, only Kwasi, Minty, Jackie and I know what I'm talking about...

Charlie

2005-02-17T00:29:00.000+08:00

I have recently had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a fellow who goes by the name of Charlie, and he's possibly the most British person I've ever met. He insists that it's only right and proper to speak the Queen's English with none of the this fancy-pants American vernacular, dontcha know. He's a real character -- a wizened old professor, who can captivate you even when you completely disagree with his opinions. He even goes so far as to launch tirades against the use of 'kids' instead of 'children'. I think I really made his day when we shook hands and I said something that previously I'd only said when I was taking the piss: "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance". The kicker is that Charlie is in fact Chinese, though to listen to him speak you'd never expect it. He has the refined, yet archaic, air of an old Oxford don, though he really reminds me of that character from The Fast Show, the "I'm afraid I was very drunk at the time" guy. He's quite amazing, I never thought I'd be able to talk to such a man yet here I was with several others hanging on his every word. I'll try to post a picture next of us all next time.

Kicking my heels

2005-02-05T18:07:00.000+08:00

Well, the Kai En job is now over, the official reason being "creative differences." Read that as you will. I knew it was coming at some point anyway, so I've had an escape plan set up for some time. It'll be a shame to leave my co-workers, all of them great people, but it's just time for me to move on. Email me if you want more info about it, because I'm not really sure I want to make everything entirely public just yet. Suffice to say, I finish on the 14th Feb, so not long to go now. Went to my first expat coffee morning today, which was very successful. Did a lot of networking and much exchanging of ~~name~~ business cards. Found out about a casting agency too, which should propel me into the stratosphere some time soon. There's lots to tell everyone now that it seems my blog hiatus is over. I've got a girlfriend now, a really great Shanghainese girl. (or formidable, the French pronunciation, as we like to say) We've been going out for about a month now, and already she's bitching about my not knowing enough Shanghainese. Oh well.

Long time, no blog

2005-01-24T15:43:00.000+08:00

Aaaaaaand, I'm back at last. I've kind of had blog fatigue since the big show. It's like something inside of me has snapped, I feel totally different since it happened, and I've still got a buzz from it. Feel like I should be out doing things and not spend so much time blogging about doing nothing. Went out with a group of friends from the show last night, mostly dancers, though a secretary (of whom I'm very fond) also came as well. I was the only guy there for the last half of it, just my rotten luck... Things are going pretty well lately. As well as the secretary I've been had my picture published on the net (on ChinaNews.com) and have started working at another school as well, one that can offer me more hours and better pay. In short, life's looking up. Going skiing with the dance gang sometime this week, so yet another thing to look forward to. Don't expect too many blog posts for a while, I'm having to push myself even to write this, and that's only for the ego massage I'll get from publishing the address of my pic on the net. See if you can guess which one's me :-)

Chinese Culture Shock 101

2005-01-04T23:38:00.000+08:00

Chinese men often wear silky white socks with Western suits. Ugh.

Phuk!

2005-01-04T23:25:00.000+08:00

I heard a few days ago at rehearsal that one of my colleagues - the most professional dancer in the show - recently went on holiday with his partner to Phuket. None of us have heard anything from him since, and we're all rather flippantly wondering what's become of him. It's really brought the disaster home. Hope he's surviving okay... Rehearsal was really good. After she'd seen me perform, June thought I'd been rehearsing for the whole two weeks of Xmas and new year, even though I'd done absolutely fuck all. Still, I didn't have the heart to break it to her. After rehearsal some of us went out for a hot pot and ended up in a coffee shop playing strip flip-the-coin, which is rather like strip poker, but, uh, flipping a coin instead. In other news I managed to blow about 400 yuan at Carrefour the other day...including some brie, which I swear is the best I've ever had, probably because I've been deprived of it since I left NZ...God it tastes good. I'll finish now because I'm not being funny or interesting in any way shape or form.

Slip sliding away

2005-01-01T19:50:00.000+08:00

Well, first of all I'd better welcome in 2005. Aaah, '04, we barely knew thee. It's been quite an eventful year really, as can probably be seen from this fair old blog. Now, back to the present. Shanghai is fuckin' freezing. Previously, according to the good people of Shanghai, it usually has mild winters. Uh huh. That would certainly explain why my hands almost turned blue today, and even inside they're bloody cold. Must remember to buy some more gloves. Or glove in fact -- one of my hands I'm not quite so sure about. I'm sure blue and black blotches and lack of feeling aren't a positive sign... New years was pretty interesting. Went to a friend's house with a group, got lost again. I'm sure one of them's a jinx. I'm looking at you Paul...ha ha, only serious. Oddly, there's an outside chance that some of my workmates may be reading this blog. I haven't really had to deal much with my professional life and blog crossing over before, and I didn't really think it'd happen here until I mirrored my blog for a Chinese audience. Who knows what zany mishaps that'll bring about? Just out of interest, is it even possible to use zany in a non-ironic way now? My part in the new year's party was (as usual) getting drunk rather too quickly and accosting rather random people into dancing. Seemed to work, though whether it was due more to my natural boyish charisma or my threatening presence I'm not sure. The streets of Shanghai've been pretty bloody treacherous the past couple of days, what with it snowing on new year's eve, the first time in 10 years according to my boss. I was pretty euphoric to see the snowfall, something I haven't seen since my Dunedin days, back when men were men and snow was real snow, not the pansy crap you get nowadays...I think my fatal mistake was trying to eat some of it. While it's not such a bad idea in New Zealand or the English countryside, the snow of a polluted city like Shanghai has something of an acrid tang which may lead to something I'd rather not imagine. I'm hoping for a severe fever, because at least that'll offset the wintery days. In addition to my slipping on the streets, my visage of calm has also been slipping a lot of late. As has my subtle seguing technique, obviously. This is due to the complete and utter morons who crowd the subway. If I see one more idiot using an escalator as a fairground attraction -- something to stand on idly, watching the world go by -- I'm going to go out of my nut and deck that someone. "But Alex, getting stressed over such a trifle...surely not!" I hear you mutter in disbelief. Yes, friends, I'm afraid it's the truth. Living in Shanghai for 6 weeks has given me more stress than living in NZ for six years. And to think, I used to bitch about NZ being too quiet... Anyway, I'd better wrap it up now because I need to spend some quality time with my hangover. Happy 2005 everyone!

A very happy Xmas

2004-12-29T01:49:00.000+08:00

Well, Christmas turned out really well, despite some of us (including me) getting completely lost and showing up to the pub an hour or so late. Not my fault, of course. Went to a place called Yin Yang first which was nice in a traditional mahogany table sort of way, and then moved on the Madam Zung's which had a 50 yuan (US$5) cover, which seemed almost outrageously expensive to me, considering how used to Chinese prices I already am. Still, beer prices were reasonable, about US$2.50 for a pint of Steinlager, one of the few places where I can get it. Stayed for a few hours, danced a bit and went home slightly lighter in the wallet. Slept at 5am, knowing I'd have lots of time to recover from my drinking binge. Except I didn't have all that much time at all. Was awoken at 10am by the phone, telling me to get my ass into gear for Christmas lunch at Holiday Inn at 11. Needless to say, the festive mainstays of green and red soon disappeared with my turning the air blue. Managed to get there on time and gorged myself stupider on turkey, spuds and salmon before collapsing into a contentedly bloated doze on my chair. One of my co-workers, the guy who invited me to the xmas dinner, gave me and my other co-worker a mug of candy each, which I was pretty touched by. Really nice thought. A little too out of it to blog right now. Hi there to any readers from China, who should now be able to access my blog. Now I just want to sleep and snuggle up in my new electric blanket...aaahh, luxury (best enjoyed while employing a Northern English accent).

Happy Fucking Whatever!

2004-12-23T13:16:00.000+08:00

It's probably high time I wished everyone a happy Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanzaa/uh, whatever-other-religions-do-at-this-time. In all honesty, I'm getting a little sick of Christmas really. It's pretty much the same thing year after year, cue tree, cue lights, cue angel with a prickly branch shoved where you'd rather not think about. I'm seriously considering giving it up next year and giving Hannukah a whirl instead. Why not this year? Well, I need to practice my dreidel spinning and find out where to buy a yarmulke in Shanghai. There's probably a synagogue somewhere around here. Why Hannukah? Well, I'm not religious and I've kind of been giving Christianity a free ride all these years by doing the whole Christmas thing. It's high time I started getting into other religions too, if only for the sake of celebrating something-or-other. Plus, there are some people I know who'd get pissed off if I suddenly starting doing Jewish stuff. An important part of life is pissing off all the right people. Besides, it's not like I'm planning to eat pork on the 25th anyway. Maybe I could give the winter solstice a shot, it's probably more in line with my heathen beliefs. Problem is I don't know a damn thing about it, so maybe I'll have to put that on hold til 2006. Anyone have any other ideas on what I could do to celebrate in style?

I can't get no (customer) satisfaction

2004-12-23T11:55:00.000+08:00

Yep, once again I've shoehorned another song title into the title box, to make up for my lack of originality/aptitude for choosing titles. But then, what did you expect? What new and exciting lyric-mangling method will I have in store for you happy campers next time? Tune in and find out! Being a kind and friendly soul at heart, I often take the time to say thank you or try to be courteous even when not necessary. Take shopping for example -- I'll thank the cashier when she gives me the change, and wish her goodbye when I leave. And I'm sure a lot of you guys are the same. A-ha! But here in The Land Where Culture Began(tm), such trifling things matter not! It seems implicit that in everything politeness is inherently built in, with no need to ever debase it by actually saying something so crass as 'please,' thank you,' 'sorry,' and so on. Either that, or quite a lot of people my end are ignorant stroppy buggers who wouldn't give you the time of day if their life depended on it. Hmmmm...now which could it be? Kwik-E-Marts are the worst culprits. The shrivelled hellspawned excuses for women they use as cashiers don't seem to have moved out of the age of communism and into the age of ~~capitalism~~ Socialism with Chinese Characteristics. Whenever I enter the hallowed gates of Ke Di, Lawsons or AllDay, the typical response is to glare at me, begrudgingly accept my money and then dump all my change onto the counter and proceed to ignore me from then on, thus leaving me in the enviable position of picking up every last coin and note and getting in the way of the next customer. Oh, and of course, having more than one cashier would be the utmost in bourgeois extravagance. Bitter? Moi? Admittedly, the local Kwik-E-Mart is an exception some of the time, when I get the friendly, chatty cashiers who've promised to try to set me up with a local girl. (I didn't really have the heart to turn them down, after all, good cashiers are hard to come by) They're a breath of fresh air, as are some other shops. Ikea springs to mind. Anyway, enough of the bitterness. If I let it get to me I'll end up becoming just as bad as them. Because as everyone knows, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering, and suffering leads to becoming a stroppy cashier at Buddy Mart.

Gilt by association

2004-12-23T11:50:00.000+08:00

In addition to being a pompous dandy wrapped in a tatoo of a rose and a fake ear piercing, did I mention that I'm also going to be drizzled in gold chains for this January show? I'm going to end up looking like a pigmentally-challenged version of Mr T.

Well, tonight Matthew, I'm going to be...

2004-12-18T22:23:00.000+08:00

...a Backstreet Boy. A topless one at that. Well, not quite topless, I'll be wearing a leather jacket, a rose tattoo and an earring, but not much else apart from the obvious. Yep, things've changed once again in the crazy crazy world of working for June Yamada, only this time it's my whole persona rather than my dance moves. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I'll probably find it easier to be a Backstreet Boy than a Man In Black. It's just in my whole life I never thought I'd end up as either a Backstreet Boy or a topless dancer, and now I'm both of them concurrently. Go figure. Rehearsal was only an hour, and I got some free clothes out of it today. Nothing special but nice all the same. It kind of makes up for the whiplash I've been experiencing from yanking my head back too much. It's that first wham in Thriller, you know, the dah-dah bit. Well, maybe my onomatoepaeic skills don't quite do it justice, but the fact remains that I'm starting to look like one of those nodding dogs they shove in the back of car windows, except for the fact that, uh, I'm not a dog. Nodding person then. Yep. Um. The rest of today was pretty good, my Saturday class graduated, but petitioned the boss that they could come in after the new year break and have another class with me. Aaah, it's nice to know they care. Some other people are also in demand of my teaching talents as well, so I'll see how that goes. The financial situation is improving now, meaning I can finally cut short my stint as a self-employed gigolo. I just hope that I can find more modelling/dancing work soon. The money's about the same as English, and I can be as posey as I want without anyone getting too upset.

M to the C to the D to the O...

2004-12-17T21:30:00.000+08:00

Sitting in a McDonalds a few days ago (yes, I know, for shame, for shame), I saw a music video consisting of Ronald McDonald gangsta-rapping about how he wanted to be an astronaut. Complete with hand gestures. I'm guessing someone spiked my drink when I wasn't looking, because there's no way that'd happen in real life, right?

Because

2004-12-17T21:17:00.000+08:00

A colleague asked me last night why I bother keeping a blog. The first answer that popped into my head was that it saved writing 50 different emails to 50 different people, and, originally it was that. But after blogging for almost two and a half years now it's become something bigger. Partly a way to blow off steam, partly a way to keep in touch, partly a record of thoughts, but mostly just for the joy of writing. I actually feel pangs of guilt when I don't update this thing. It's kind of bizarre. When I haven't updated for a while it's tough to get the motivation going, but as soon as I update I want to do it again. Lots more is in the pipeline anyway, stuff that I've been meaning to blog but haven't got round to yet...something to fill up the rest of my night I suppose. Unfortunately the person who asked this question can't access my blog, us being stuck in the People's Republic and all. So there's probably not much point in saying 'Hi Aleisha!' unless she feels like reading it a year from now. I've forgotten how to wrap posts up nicely so I'll stop now

Dancing for Spaghetti

2004-12-13T11:15:00.000+08:00

After a hard day's work yesterday, I schlepped home and was just putting my feet up when the phone rang at it's usual ear-meltingly loud volume. It was my friend June, the boss of this fashion/model thing, inviting me to her place for spaghetti. A call out of the blue like started my Spidey senses tingling (as they do at times like that). Did she want to drop me from the lineup completely due to my completely mediocre last couple of rehearsals? Did she want to push me into being the last dancer? Or did she just want a young, naive toyboy? My mind was (like, literally) awash with the possibilities. Eventually, I just put it down to being overly-paranoid and hailed a cab, expecting a hearty meal of spag bol. It turns out, after all, that my hunch was right. Before digging into probably some of the only vaguely-authentic spaghetti in China, I had to go through a couple of hours of more rehearsals. I only realise now how stiff and unnatural I was before last night. Once again, my routine was altered, making it the fourth time in four rehearsals, although by this time it wasn't really a shock to the system. After doing my stuff and meeting a few new people we dug into the (very good) spaghetti and talked about June's new book, the show, China in general and some things which I probably shouldn't repeat for fear of being deported. On the plus side, Now I know never to use a spoon when eating spaghetti, not even for twirling. Having an etiquette doyenne as a friend is a lot more useful than I thought it'd be. This was all followed by cherry pie, tea and more rehearsal. And guess what? My routine was changed for the fifth time, albeit to a lot easier and more natural style. Before it was very slow and sexy, but dancing slowly to Thriller is a real challenge for me. It's almost as if I have to ignore the primary beat and listen for something else which I can only hear half the time. And, though I never really noticed it at the time, (deliberately) dancing out of rhythm is incredibly mentally taxing, making my moves too tense and upping the stress even more. At least now I'm doing something more like what I did on the dancefloors of Dunedin and Downtown (I was going to write Auckland, but it's not quite so alliterative...) I'd never pulled off fast dancing like this in front of spectators before (not counting dance clubs of course), but they seemed pretty impressed and told me to go with it. I've always been a bit self-conscious about my dancing -- people either love it or hate it. Truth be told, I've been quite bored of the whole dance club scene for a while now, so it's nice to have a new outlet to dance. I'm really glad I went, and I'm also a little relieved it's over. I've been trying to network frenetically with all this going on, even more so in the past few days due to...stuff. I don't really know how much I should write -- a lot of the stuff I want to type wouldn't seem so great if certain people knew my intentions. My god, that sounds so more dramatic than it really is. Also, there's a lot that's up in the air at the mo, and if I blog it then...it's tough to explain...it seems more true, more real. When things are more definite I'll spill the beans. 'Til then I'll keep it quiet for fear of getting my hopes up -- I always find it's better to stick to a policy of being pre-emptively disappointed. At least that way if it all turns to jelly then I don't get too upset, and if it works out then I'm on top of the world.

Knockin on Heaven's Door

2004-12-10T23:28:00.000+08:00

For such a tightly controlled country, there are a hell of a lot of knocking shops in China. On my 15 walk to work alone I see at least 4 or 5 of them, with their spinning barber's poles outside. In the West the colors used to symbolise the blood and bandages befitting the now neglected duties of a barber, which included being part-time doctor and dentist*. I have a feeling it's more the pole rather than the colors here which is symbolic though. Not that I'd ever go to such a den of sin of course, perish the thought, the very idea, etc etc. Well, the point's moot anyway considering how broke I am. But if I did want to partake in the pleasure of a woman of negotiable virtue, at least the clap clinic is only a 5 minute walk (possibly a ten-minute waddle, depending on one's condition) from work. * Possibly the most obscure piece of information I've blogged, even including the Frig/Freya reference

Dance dance revolution

2004-12-10T23:20:00.000+08:00

Well, I've been pretty slack about updating Serenade for a while now, and in the meantime all the ideas about what to blog've been building in my mind and upon my consience. It's got to the point where I feel i have to blog, if not for you guys than for myself. I'm already forgetting a lot of what I intended to blog, so if I don't blog it now it'll be gone forever. Where was I? Oh yeah, my modelling and dancing thing (which I'm probably making far too big a deal out of) is going okay, except last time the guy in charge of the dancers wanted me to change my whole routine, moving away from a model walk and into a creeping alert kind of walk. I don't really know how else to describe it, except that everyone else said it was the most difficult routine there. Actually it didn't go all that well: I was having a bad day at the time and seemed to've lost my rhythm a bit. In the end the boss decided it'd be best to change it back to how it was originally, so a lot of the rehearsal was a bit of a waste, but c'est la vie. Another rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, and I still need to work on my spin -- my literal spin, not a PR thing. All that remains to be said on the matter is that I'm sick to my back teeth with Thriller.

Practically speaking

2004-12-10T23:14:00.000+08:00

It never really occurs to a lot of people that Chinese are incredibly practically minded when it comes to certain things. Sure, in the movies and common stereotypes we're taught to think that they're pretty inscrutable, with overly ornate and poetic names for things like "The Garden of Heavenly Lily Ponds overlooked by the Pagoda of Everlasting Fortitude." Reality is somewhat different. Take the days of the week for example, while we have the meaningless (to most) names of Monday, Tuesday, et cetera, the Chinese just call these day one, day two, up until day six, finishing with sun day. Months are another example, month one, month two. Sure, it's a lot easier to learn, but there's no sense of wonder about it. Maybe it's just me, but I find it really interesting that Friday was named after Frig (or Freya possibly), a norse goddess of something-or-other and that Thursday is named after Thor, Norse god of thunder. Ditto with the Roman origins of July and August. Okay, some places have incredibly long names, but they're usually just including unnecessary detail rather than hiding any deeper meanings. I guess I'm a little torn about the whole thing. As a student of Chinese it's much easier to learn these than to learn semi-random stuff like Tuesday and Thursday (which everyone I've taught mixes up sooner or later), but as a know-all git it's really nice to be able to come up with some really random piece of useless information. In the end I guess it's all about stories, and who doesn't like a good story?

Cleans whiter than...uh...black?

2004-12-01T21:28:00.000+08:00

For some reason I can't quite fathom, here in China there is a brand of toothpaste known as "Black Man," with a beaming minstrel-esque black guy with a top hat as its logo. Why? God only knows. Whenever I see my black friends, the first thing that pops into mind is not "oooh, pretty teeth." I'm not quite sure what the first thing is actually, but it's certainly not dentistry-related in any way, shape or form. That's not to say that black people don't have nice teeth (says he, backpedalling furiously from anything that could be seen as non-PC), but it's hardly a distinguishing feature. Generally there's a slight negative attitude towards black people throughout most of China. Every one wants a happy-go-lucky blonde Aryan who'd look right at home in a Hitler Youth jamboree (yep, that's my last shred of political correctness gone to the dogs...), but black people seem to have a harder time of it, especially out in the provinces. And as for the ABCs, BBCs (American, British born Chinese), well, I wouldn't like to be in their shoes. They're seen as being the worst of both worlds I guess -- they don't look foreign and they can't blend in either. Although they seemed to have a lot harder time in Taiwan than here on the mainland. This is just the reality (in my eyes) of racial attitudes in China today. I hesitate to use the phrase "some of my best friends are black people/ABCs/insert-ethnic-group-here" because it's so often over-used by nutters, but there's not much else I can say really, except that when I say it I really mean it. I'll shut up now before I dig myself even deeper into a color-coded quagmire. Oooh! Look at that pretty alliteration! PS Is there a more politically-correct term than "blacks"? It always feels rather grating to write it

Eating my words

2004-11-28T12:08:00.000+08:00

I guess I should take back those bad first impressions of the Shanghainese. Since that post I've been really well treated by my landlord and his family, and my students've been really great too. Actually, one's hooking me up with a modelling job tomorrow...if you thought I was vain before, then you should probably think again. Been invited by some students to Rojam tonight, one of the biggest and funkiest discos in Shanghai. I don't really seem to have my writing hat screwed firmly on today, so don't expect any miracles of prose. Oddly enough, usually after I type that sort of thing I get a lot better. I wonder if typing that sentence would count as jinxing it though? Blah, enough rambling for now

Thanks everyone

2004-11-22T21:29:00.000+08:00

Hello. This is me stepping out of my editorial/writing/random-bashing-on-keys mode just to say a few small words. I'd like to say thanks to everyone who's commented, emailed, bookmarked and/or just read my blog. It's nice to know that I'm not just typing into a void. To those who emailed, I'll try to get back to you soon, but you know how unreliable I can be in that regard. To those who read it, feel free to leave comments, the more the merrier. The cockles of my heart grow warmer every time I see a comment in my inbox, so let's turn up the heat. How to comment If you're not au fait with how to do it, there should be a 'comment' link or something like it at the bottom of each post. Just click that, fill in your details and fire away. You don't have to add your name or email or anything. At least I think that's how you do it. Ironically, I can post to my blog all I want from China, but reading it is nigh on impossible, so giving exact instructions is going to be quite tough. Anyway, thanks again. I'll can the humility now and return you to your regular programming. Tune in next time, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel. BTW, let me know if this post looks a little upfucked.

Burning bushels

2004-11-22T21:18:00.000+08:00

Taxi drivers in Shanghai are bloody awful. Scratch that, I can't find words bad enough to describe how bad they are. Well, I could, but on a family-orientated blog such as this one I doubt I could use them...I mean, won't someone think of the children? Sure, they're cheap enough, but they take so long to find wherever you're going it's hardly worth the bother. There hasn't really been much to blog about in the past couple of days. Bought myself a new sweater as a birthday gift to myself, going out for birthday drinks later with some colleagues, trying to splice 'birthday' into every sentence to get the point across that I'm whoring for attention here, birthday greetings and expensive gifts wouldn't go amiss either. Oh yeah, now I remember what I was going to write. Fuck modesty. Seriously, just fuck it. I've tried to be modest in an attempt to integrate into Chinese society, what with it being one of the supposed cultural traits of the Chinese...ha ha, only serious. The problem is (I think) that since most foreigners here aren't quite as modest as I am (not that there's anything wrong with that), so the Chinese tend to think I'm not hiding my light under a bushel, but am, in fact, being truthful about my abilities. All this time I've been saying things like "yeah, I've been studying Chinese for about five years, but really I'm not very good." People's typical reaction is not, as I expected, "what a nice young man, so charming and modest. let's try to marry off our beautiful daughter to him," but is in fact "he's studied for five years and still sucks? What a retard." In short, that's the end of modesty for me. No longer will anyone have to suffer my overbearing humility and the silence of my trumpet. Dear oh dear, China isn't going to know what's hit it once my arrogance gets into full swing. They ain't seen nothing yet... Well, so much for "the children."

As I walk through the valleys of the shadow of grease...

2004-11-20T15:10:00.000+08:00

I went to KFC last night. Let me repeat that in case you can't believe your ears. I went to KFC last night. Yep, my willpower lasted all of two weeks. Working in a foreign country, you sometimes just get the urge for a taste from home, though I did some in-depth checking, and much to my shock and horror, my home is not in fact in Kentucky. So, I guess the KFC thing wasn't really all that nostalgic, especially considering I never ate it anyway. I rediscovered the reason I never ate it last night. I couldn't actually force myself to finish it, despite paying about twice the price of a decent Chinese meal for the crap. It was bland, soggy and just plain horrid. I actually felt dirty as I walked out. With this and my ill-fated attempt at cooking I seem to be displaying several disturbingly suicidal tendencies. Stay tuned for my next Lucrezia Borgia moment, though I suppose if it's severe enough there won't be such an update.

Where is the love?

2004-11-20T15:01:00.000+08:00

Apparently, there is no word for 'love' in Shanghainese. That just seems so bizarre. I'd always thought it was a universal human thing, but the closest thing to it in Shanghainese is saying "I like you" -- and I'm pretty sure that's just a normal 'like', not a like like. It kind of turns me off the idea of learning Shanghainese actually. On the other hand, languages like Marshallese have some lovely stuff, with the literal translation of hello (yokwe) being 'rainbow you' (according to my Marshallese friend). It's almost enough to make me feel a Care Bears moment coming on...

Wok 'n' Woe

2004-11-19T14:43:00.000+08:00

Yesterday was one of my more interesting days in Shanghai. It started innocently enough with a trip to the market to buy ingredients for my lunch, the first time I tried cooking since I got here two weeks ago. After buying some utensils and junk food at the supermarket (mmm....Peking Duck flavoured potato chips...), I arrived home and started work on my culinary masterpiece. Needless to say I'm now paranoid about when the food poisoning is going to strike. The meal was meant to be fried noodles with Chinese barbecue pork (cha siew/cha shao), but it ended up more like a sticky paste which coated the bottom of my wok in something that had the appearance and consistency of plasticene. Obviously, this little escapade has deterred me in no small amount from cooking in any form outside of a microwave, so it'll be fine dining Shanghai style from now on, as long as I can keep the price of the meal under $2nz. After that Gordon Bleu experience, I managed to tear myself away from the bathroom and haul ass to school. Lesson went pretty well, though student numbers are dropping. Apparently this happens all the time, and it's not in fact due to my magnificent fashion sense deterring all the male students due to jealousy. Nothing hugely eventful there. Post-class, a few colleagues and I went for a drink at a local watering hole called Windows. For the first time since I got here I felt like I was back in the West, except, that is, for the price of the drinks. $2nz per bottle of imported beer. So much for the guidebook warning me of the strain on my wallet that boozing would cause. The bar was pretty empty, probably par for the course on a Thursday night, but the few people that were there were mostly westerners. Played a few rounds of pool and got pretty merry, and somehow managed to avoid starting any fights this time. We went to the bar with a couple of Chinese students, one of whom was wishing that her ex-boyfriend would vanish from the face of the Earth. At one point one of us turned around in their chair and noticed that the same scooter that had been following us a while ago was still following us. Lo and behold, it was the scary ex-boyfriend/stalker tailing us. Luckily we managed to lose him, but I'm now a little paranoid about going out in Shanghai. Twice I've been out, the first time leading to blows (though not to me, thankfully), and the second time with a crazy moped-riding stalker following us. Perhaps it's just me being a bad omen. I've given up trying to finish these things with a nice ending. I seem to have lost that skill lately. Any ideas on how to regain it?

Random Pyjamas

2004-11-17T20:52:00.000+08:00

Well, it's week 2 in Shanghai, and the random oddness of the place is quite interesting. In Taiwan I had the pleasure of gorging upon Venetian-smoked-chicken-with-basil flavoured potato chips. Here in the whore of the Orient I have the dubious pleasure of feasting upon lemon flavoured ones. Why lemon? Why not? God knows how many concotions they came up with before that was approved? I'm just thankful that a red-bean flavour was never given the green light. Lessons are going really well, some of the best I've taught actually, thanks in no small part to the students. Thankfully they likely won't get a chance to read this, what with my blog being blocked from Chinese eyes. Yep, all my firebrand political extremism and vicious defamation of Mao must've really rattled the censors. Either that or the whole blogspot domain is blocked. Lucky for you guys I can still post, eh? More erratic (does it show that I just thesaurussed 'random') weirdness can be seen in that people wear pyjamas to go out at any time of day. I'm pretty bloody sure they're pyjamas anyway, often tastefully paired with stilletos or the like. I can't really sense the sartorial aim in this practice. I mean it's bad enough having your hair look like you just got out of bed*, but your whole dress? Or maybe Shanghai just has a large daytime sleepwalker population. * As opposed to having it styled specifically to look that way...these things matter, people. With all this random oddness, I'm trying to find a new and interesting way to stand out. Singing in the rain is always good, but it's been done before. Plus Shanghai's had little rain lately. Maybe I should moonwalk everywhere or wear my underwear on my head or something. Any suggestions are welcome.

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at uh...

2004-11-13T14:49:00.000+08:00

I've just realised the thing that bugs me most about Shanghai. Sure, the people can be a bit surly at times, the pollution's pretty bad and martrydom is just a step away from crossing the road, but none of those things really bother me that much. What's bugging me most of all is that I can't see any stars in the sky at night. Sure, it may sound petty, but it's only when something's gone that you really realise how much it meant to you. In NZ I'd walk home at night and sometimes just stop in my tracks and gaze at the sky. And it may sound odd for an atheist to say this, but it made me feel part of something so much bigger, that there was so much more out there to discover and so much that'll forever remain unknown. Here in Shanghai though, I look up and all I see is, well, nothing. Just a big greyish-white gap where the sky should be. No clouds, no stars, no sun, no moon. Just nothing, like an enormous blind spot. Whether day or night, it always seems to be the same colour, that depressing washed-out grey. I never thought something I took for granted so much would feel so important. Hell, I never even considered that I took it for granted. Sometimes it really is the little things that seem to matter most.

Go Team Teacher!

2004-11-09T21:43:00.000+08:00

Well, the last entry seems to have got there, in theory at least. I had my first observation a couple of days ago, observing a new class with a teacher who's departing in a couple of weeks. Therefore, it was decided we should team teach. Not something either of us were looking forward to. I was expecting to do a relatively simple observation task and she was expecting to do a run of the mill lesson. All things considered though, it went pretty well. I thought we'd be stepping on each others' toes the whole time, but it didn't actually come to that. The students are really nice, about 16 in the class, more than I'm used to but it's a good number. Yasuhiro and the Germans: There's a sportswear company here called Scheisser. I knew you'd be impressed.

2004-11-09T21:35:00.000+08:00

Seem to have troubles posting directly to blog, so hope this one gets through. Shanghai's going pretty well so far, apart from my impending poverty due to lack of places that'll change $NZ. Maybe I should start a paypal donations or fill the site with full page ads. Hmmm....anyone got any products they want endorsing? SubliminallyDRINK COKE or otherwise? First impressions are mixed. The city's pretty spectacular, especially the Oriental Pearl Tower and the prices for most things aren't too bad. Wide range of food, great metro system so getting about's not a problem. On the negative side, the people aren't quite the friendliest in the world. I've been fucked about with once by some "friends" and almost sucked in by another. And that was just in the first day. Since then I've learnt to ignore any attractive women who want to help me just for the satisfaction of doing a good deed. It usually entails buying them dinner or them ordering the most expensive, scratch that, the most EXPENSIVE item on the menu. Lower case just doesn't do the word justice. I'm doing coffee with an ex-student of mine on Saturday. She's studying in Shanghai at the moment and was a nice person when I taught her in Jiayuguan. I just hope she hasn't become a Shanghainese good sarmaritan yet. Yep, I'm bitter and twisted about the Shanghainese. When I first came here I kinda expected people to be pretty decent. Okay okay, it's only the first few days and things'll probably change, but right now I'm pretty pissed off with a lot of people I've interacted with. First impressions and all that. Truthfully, since the first day things've been going a lot better, and walking around with my earphones plugged in prevents at least some of the Shanghai sarmaritans from trying to beguile me. On the other hand, considering the traffic, doing exactly that is probably a really bad idea. All senses need to be on overload just to cope with it. As in the case with most cities in China, there are two kinds of pedestrians: the quick and the dead. There's more poverty here than I thought there'd be, which was likely pretty naive of me in retrospect. You have the usual scruffy people rooting through the trashcans, but also, uh, differently normal population. That's really the only way I can put it without being grossly offensive even by my standards. The company seems pretty good so far, I actually got picked up at the airport for a start, unlike I did with a certain company in Taiwan. The staff seem really friendly, going out with them for a social thing on Thurs, so looking forward to that. Will post this now, my email account has been brainfarting since i came to China, so there's a possibility that this'll screw up and you'll be spared the horror of reading my prose.

Dead on my feel in KLIA

2004-11-04T23:51:00.000+08:00

In Kuala Lumpur airport. In transit. In a shitty mood. Wanna sleep. Zzzzzz

Not dead yet

2004-10-11T09:53:00.000+08:00

Still biding my time looking for another job, mostly concentrating on Southern China, though Shanghai's also a potential. Also considering Montreal -- it's cosmopolitan, metropolitan and it's a great chance to improve my languishing French. Updates as and when they happen. Considering leaving ASAP, optimistically within a week or so.

To boldly (and rather stupidly) go...

2004-09-27T17:10:00.000+08:00

Well, I've had yet another insanely crackpot idea. Today's plan is to circumnavigate the globe like a latter day Philleas Fog, teaching English along the way. Enough said really. I mean, it's not as if going to the Gobi Desert and Inner Mongolia were madcap enough, so now I have to try to top that. Why? Because I'm sure I have a few screws loose and rattling around somewhere upstairs. I really should've learnt my lesson by now, i.e. don't do stupid stuff just because it sounds cool. Seems like it's late-onset teenage bravado kicking in. Anyway, next stop is possibly Taiwan or Shenzhen, verging on choosing Taiwan again. That is, unless I read my blog archives and remember what a so-so time I had there. At least this time it'll be teaching adults, thank gods. No matter what, at least I'll be able to enjoy Hsimen Ding market again, just thinking about all the garments makes me want to go back. Who knows? I might even get to experience a full-blown invasion if I go there. As if being there throughout the SARS scare wasn't bad and/or boastworthy enough. Not a lot else. I really, really need to get out of NZ. It's driving me up the wall here, living in such a small country. Sure, there are all the oh-so-wonderful things portrayed in the travel brochures to do, but after having been here for seven-odd years I've gotten (ooh, token Americanism) more than a little bored of it all. On top of that, I think it's giving me writer's block. I can't write like I used to, probably due to nothing interesting happening. Ever. It'll be nice to get out of this godawful rut and do something stupid yet interesting again. The way I see it, doing all this globetrotting, no matter how terrible it may seem at the time, will leave me with something to tell my grandchildren. That is, assuming I don't get killed in the process. This -- if my judgement in travelling is anything to go by -- is not actually all that far-fetched. I read a blackboard slogan the other day. It read "sometimes, you've got to let your sense of adventure triumph over your common sense," or something like that. I really wish that in my case it was only sometimes rather than always. Well, I could do worse; today someone was telling me how Sudan would be a nice spot in which to teach English. Right. Uh-huh. Signing off before I start seriously considering that idea.

2004-09-23T16:34:00.000+08:00

I actually did try to post a few days ago, but Murphy's law kicked in and Blogger swallowed all my hard-worked-upon, sweated-over prose. Damnit. Pretty vexed because it was quite a good article too, slightly more flowery writing style than usual but not completely up myself. Isn't it always the case that the ones that get away are the ones you obsess over the most? In reality it was probably neither good nor bad, but thinking makes it so. Hooray, my first gratuitous Shakespeare quote. I would've typed 'Woohoo,' but I'm starting to think that's slightly below me. I've been trying to pay more attention to my writing lately. It all came about from reading the writing of one of the many short people running around the family home known vaguely to me as little brothers. It was really rather good, more flowery than mine has been, although that's not a bad thing. I just hope he doesn't read this any time soon or I'll never hear the end of it. In other news, I've managed to halfway convince one of my Korean students that I'm Chinese. Gods only know how, but one of the few other Chinese in the school is complicit, so I guess that helps. Thinking of looking for a new job soon, Shanghai's looking pretty nice, as are Shenzhen, Beijing, Guangzhou and any other large Chinese cities. Come to think of it, I've got contacts in or around all of those places so it shouldn't be too hard for me to settle in if I go there. Another option's Montreal, which is apparently crying out for English teachers. I'd never really considered it before, but it sounds more interesting the more I think about it. Certainly a change from China. Timing is still the issue. Apparently my girlfriend is going to come to Auckland after all, supposedly in a few weeks. Not quite sure I have 100% confidence in that occurring, but looking for a job overseas is on hold until it either happens or doesn't. Finally, I've found a way to order my rather poorly organized-life. Well, I did find a way, I should say, and then me being me I procrastinated over it for a while, decided it was too hard and went for a lie down. Now, however, I've finally kicked it into gear, and it's working OK so far. Can't be bothered to write more, so going to stop here. Still pining in a rather pitiful manner about my piece de resistance that was so mercilessly ripped from my tender mitts. Why? Why, damnit?

Acronymical Overload

2004-09-11T18:46:00.000+08:00

Had my first lesson on teaching IELTS today. It was pretty good, easier than I thought actually. Most of the stuff in there is the stuff I covered in my CELTA just re-presented. OK...getting bored with that topic now. Non-ESL teachers, and that's almost everyone whose reading this blog, can relax now, no more random acronyms in this post. Realised again I've been a lot more open since starting this blog, and particularly since I started the Chinese blog (entitled 'Speaking to the wall'. I guess that's because I'm just using the Chinese one as a base to practice my Chinese, if others don't see it then it doesn't really bother me too much. Since I have practically zero readership I can say anything without worrying about boring people to death, so I'm a tad more open. Talking of which, I'd better update. I've set myself the rather insanely-lofty goal of trying to update it daily, again, just to keep myself in practice. And it's with that in mind that I sign off.

Roald Dahl has a lot to answer for

2004-09-10T19:17:00.000+08:00

So it's been a while since there was a post of any real substance here and it kinda feels like I've been neglecting my English blog a little bit. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing I don't really know. However, the blogosphere hasn't imploded and the world hasn't ended so I guess it's not really so important. Absolute shit of a day today, found out my girlfriend is probably not going to be coming back to Auckland after all, she's going to be staying put in Christchurch for reasons known only to herself. I guess I'm being a bit unfair bitching about it -- it's her life after all -- it's just that I'd kinda got my hopes up that my power of lurve (insert Hewey Lewis and the News chorus here) slash emotional blackmail would've worked on her. Oh well, back to the drawing board I guess. Suppose there are plenty more fish in the sea, and resorting to those worn-out old piece-o-crap cliches just rewarms the cockles of my stony frozen heart. Joy. Reading over that last sentence (well, prior to last) I think I really need to go on an adjective-free diet for a while. You know how sometimes you can't sleep because your mind won't turn off? I had that last night after blogging before bed. No sooner had my head touched the pillow did I start pontificating what to blog about next. Something about CSS or RSS maybe? No, that'd geek too many people out. A rant about how pathetically inadequate Chinese textbooks are? Hmmm....not much of an audience. A series of humorous anecdotes about insanely wrong foreign-language dictionaries, perhaps? Watch this space. Eventually, and I know not why, my mind got onto the topic of Oompa Loompas. Oompa bloody Loompas. Don't ask my why. I fear if I knew the reason I'd have to turn myself into the loony bin, and I doubt I could find a straitjacket that would blend with the rest of my wardrobe. I've always imagined them as blue blobby creatures somewhat resembling a Ribena-berry/gumdrop hybrid. Not long after that journey down Memory Lane and the subsequent diversion into Bizarreness Alley, my agonized mind got hooked onto the farting song from the animated BFG movie of god-only-knows how long ago. It's been stuck in my mind all these years, and last night, of all times, it chose to shake itself free of its moorings, dust itself off and tap-dance its merry way into my cerebelum. The Hare Krishna's ain't got nothin' on this little ditty. If you too want to see a Big Friendly Giant propelling himself through burning off methane (and lets face it, who on Earth wouldn't?) then get the video. Just don't blame me if you trip over the bags under your eyes in the morning while finding a drill to shut off that infernal melody. The rest of my pretty much entirely sleepless torment was filled with trying to curse Roald Dahl's legacy and failing, because how the Hell do you pronounce Roald Dahl anyway?

Name change

2004-09-10T06:08:00.000+08:00

Have decided to switch the name of my blog to something slightly more pronouncable, hence 'Herbivorous Serenade'. I took it from a Chinese idiom -- dui niu tan qin -- which roughly translates to the 'pearls before swine' idiom of English*. Slightly more personal, less geeky and a damn sight easier to say. Any thoughts? Literally "playing music to a cow" Update: Thanks to Maj for the correction, dui niu tan qin, not dui niu tao qin. D'oh!

Quick design update

2004-09-07T18:26:00.000+08:00

Typical, as soon as I say I go off blogging I start on some redesign of the blog. Tried to make it a lot more minimalistic, a little more kottke-esque. Easier on the eyes now. Even taught myself a little more CSS into the bargain. Woohoo.

My new Chinese blog

2004-09-07T15:46:00.000+08:00

Just started a new blog in Chinese to help me practice. It's pretty bare at the moment, but expect it to fill up soonish. Unless I'm lazy. Which I will be. Feel like I've run dry writing anything in English. I guess teaching it all day every day has drained me somewhat, just no motivation for now. Anyway, if you do read the Chinese blog, don't expect too much. My Chinese is amateurish at best, and really it's more of an opportunity for me to practice than for public consumption. I'd keep a private diary, but I'm just so used to blogging now that it seems more natural this way. With any luck, blogging Chinese'll improve my Chinese skills the way this blog has improved my writing skills. This post isn't a shining example, but on occasion I can be more eloquent than I am now. The current (placeholder) title of the blog is my Chinese name, which I'm hoping to change soon. 艾力士 (pronounced something like Eye lee shuh), my Chinese name, isn't really all that authentic, and I'm thinking of changing it to something more natural-sounding. <geek> Oh yeah, the blog's encoded in UTF-8 rather than GB2312, so if you want to read it you may have to switch language/character sets (usually in the 'view' menu of your browser) <\geek> By the way, if anyone knows how to say 'blog' in Chinese, let me know, yeah?

Back...

2004-08-30T11:49:00.000+08:00

Got back from Christchurch a few days ago, and returned to find my job was miraculously still around for me. Tried looking for some work while I was there but the market's really in the doldrums over there. Probably for the best that I couldn't find a job, since the harsh weather was messing up my complexion and that's obviously the most important thing in my life. Had lots of fun with my girlfriend, including, but not limited to, singing/yelling pop songs in the street in the middle of the night, in Korean, Chinese and English. Now I'm trying to convince/emotionally blackmail her into coming back to Auckland. Think it's working. Been a bugger keeping up to date with all that's been happening online while I was away. Keep meaning to email that social bookmark unification proposal idea to the various services, guess it'll have to wait a while. Actually got delicious withdrawal symptoms again, not a huge surprise. 'sall for now.

Gotta read this

2004-08-24T10:23:00.000+08:00

A damn good read about the US smackdown of gay marriages. Well worth a look

Chch

2004-08-22T09:32:00.000+08:00

Arrived in Christchurch yesterday, things seem to be going really well, so there's no fear of me pouring my heart out just yet. Girlfriend's working at the moment, so I'm at a bit of a loose end. Realised how godawfully insane Internet Explorer is, feel like smashing the screen next time it steals focus. To add insult to injury, alt-tab is disabled on this system, so I have to reach for the mouse every time. Agh.

Changing the world, one site at a time...

2004-08-20T20:33:00.000+08:00

Emailed RSScalendar.com a while ago with a feature request (adding a + to each day to add an event, as mentioned in a previous post). Actually got implemented, which has made me realise how two-way the net really is. It used to be that I'd get impressed by anyone who had their own domain name, assuming that they wouldn't really give much of a damn about a common pleb like myself. I guess it's because I've been online for quite a while. I was online when having a domain name of one's own was a big deal and I guess the fact that that isn't the case hasn't really sunk in until recently. I've been getting positive and personal feedback from these companies that I email, so I guess I'll try to take a bigger role on the web from now on. In other news, I'm going to Christchurch tomorrow, so may not be much new on my blog for a week or so. Keep meaning to email all the social bookmark sites out there (Eris only knows, there are enough of them,) and seeing what their thoughts are on standardising on a common file format. Shouldn't be too hard considering it's all pretty much the same data format (URL, description, tags) and all available via RSS. Will backup my del.icio.us bookmarks to check this when I get time. Not expecting too many surprises.

Happy birthday to me...

2004-08-18T18:33:00.000+08:00

I tried to think of a more interesting title but in the end sheer bloody bone-idleness won out. After that last post and Delicious withdrawal symptoms starting to kick in, I simply can't be arsed with writing style for now. And what a jolly, happy-go-lucky post this is to celebrate the upcoming first birthday of my blog. Shame I probably won't have a chance to update on my (well, it's) birthday, but I'm sure I'll be doing something much more fulfilling in Christchurch. Believe it or not, this was meant to be a one-line post. I really need to take something to combat my verbal diarrhea.