After some time waiting I got back the first mark for the distance part of my current study and got a pass. I'm still not sure how this happened but I'll take it. I probably should be putting in more effort than I currently am, but given that I'm doing the course as a hoop-jumping exercise for my current employers I promised myself I wouldn't let this completely consume my life - something that all previous participants in the course insist happens. So I'm trying to maintain a bit of self in the midst of this chaos. Unfortunately I don't have holidays again until September and I'm already beginning to feel the need for a few days off. Fortunately my life in Singapore seems to move in the opposite of dog years (cat years?) i.e. long stretches of time move remarkably quickly.
A friend called tonight to see how I was doing and he laughed hysterically when I told him I was sitting on the couch watching a film about cheerleaders (Bring It On : All or Nothing for those keeping score). It made me think... am I now too old to be watching movies about cheerleaders? The answer is, probably... yes. Since before I was a teenager I enjoyed movies about teenagers (Teen Wolf, Breakfast Club etc) and I guess I have a certain nostalgia for that film genre. It's only when you tell someone that has no fondness for the genre that you're watching it that the ludicrousness of it all actually comes into focus. Ultimately I guess I'm just killing time. Living by one's self does that to you.
I love the freedom of living by myself. All my idiosyncrasies are on display and unable to annoy anyone. Although I did look in my fridge yesterday and get the shock of my life. My fridge contained :
- all the ingredients for making tacos (I had friends coming for lunch)
- two apples
- two bottles of soft drink
- a can of green tea
- a bag of Freddo Frogs
- cheese slices
- eggs
- soy sauce
- chilli sauce
- tomato sauce
- frozen hamburgers
- frozen vegetables
- icy poles
- a bottle of Vodka
- 4 cans of beer
If you try unbelievably hard you can make a meal with those things. Or at least some kind of obesity bomb. I really am like a bachelor from a bad American sitcom. So yes, I've turned into a cliche. The only part that actually disturbs me about all this is that if it goes on too long I will at some point become so set in my ways that I will be unable to live with anything other than cats ever again. No problem with the cat part, just a little concern about the vision of me at 45 with 8 housecats, 5 outdoor cats and the occasional stray all hunkering down for a meal together each night in liu of any actual proper human contact.
At least if that happens I'll get my own theme music.
Da na nana na na na Da na nana na na naaaaaa... Cat-Man! Cat-man! Cat-Maaaaaaaaaan!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Spy Who Knew Me
Perhaps this situation is more common than I think it is, but here we go. I met a woman about a month back in a bar. We drank, laughed and shared a taxi partway to our respective houses. Nothing at all happened, nor am I interested in her that way. However, I must say she is a fascinating creature. She's half Hawaiian-half Indian, cruises around the world on a US passport and has a security pass for the embassy here in Sg. The security pass was what set my initial alarm bells off. You only get those if you actually work there. In the course of conversation she told me that she had been doing charity work around Holland area and had come back to spend a couple of months with her parents after being away for almost two years. We've met up a few times since and yesterday she asked me to meet up because she was heading away to Malaysia on Friday. I couldn't because I had work to do but that's by the by. When I asked her when she'd be back she messaged back that she didn't know.
So let's add some of this stuff up :
- Ill-defined and difficult to check-up upon job CHECK
- Mysterious trips to the port in the early morning and refusing to explain why she was heading there CHECK
- Security pass for the embassy despite being a civilian CHECK
- Trips overseas which have no return date CHECK
- Vivacious personality and elegant looks CHECK
- Independently wealthy CHECK (sorry, but if you have that much money and do charity work then you're either rich or you have another job entirely)
If she's not a spy then God knows who could be one!!
Though if she gave such obvious clues away then she'd be a pretty crappy spy...
So let's add some of this stuff up :
- Ill-defined and difficult to check-up upon job CHECK
- Mysterious trips to the port in the early morning and refusing to explain why she was heading there CHECK
- Security pass for the embassy despite being a civilian CHECK
- Trips overseas which have no return date CHECK
- Vivacious personality and elegant looks CHECK
- Independently wealthy CHECK (sorry, but if you have that much money and do charity work then you're either rich or you have another job entirely)
If she's not a spy then God knows who could be one!!
Though if she gave such obvious clues away then she'd be a pretty crappy spy...
Sunday, May 4, 2008
You live in the Heartlands now
I've moved into Singaporean government housing, which is very different to our Western convention of government housing - which is always for low income earners and crime-ridden. I'm sure I'd be safe in saying that the vast majority of Singaporeans live in this kind of housing. Needless to say, it's hot here, so people keep their windows open. As you walk past you can smell the food cooking and hear the tv blaring. Miniature gardens adorn the walkways out the front of apartments and the forecourts out the front are a breeding ground for strays of every kind. I love cats so this really isn't a big deal for me.
I'm living in an estate, where there are many many residential buildings. The estates here are unique in that the first floors are generally taken up by shops and restaurants. It's truly amazing because these shops are generally cheaper than a supermarket or anywhere else for that matter. It may only be a matter of 50 cents for the average item but I can see that for people with families this would really add up over the course of a month. I spent $1.90 on dinner this evening. I'm sure this will all become very humdrum after a couple of months of living here, but as a total outsider this has severe novelty value for me.
It's also very strange for me as someone who grew up in the suburbs of Melbourne. Living in a big house and only vaguely knowing the neighbours and a handful of people in my street (usually because they had children of a similar age), the idea of living in this kind of estate is positively mind-blowing. I'm sure most Singaporeans would laugh at this notion, but to me I walk through the estate and I see a community. I see people sitting outside on public seating chatting to one another, there's the lady who goes around the estate filling up cups of water for the strays and then there's the hawker centre in the middle of the estate upon which people converge to eat, talk and drink some Tiger. I'm very sure that these estates have their issues, their racial disharmony and their petty arguments between neighbours, but ultimately I walk through this place and get a sense of community. Which is something I think is rapidly being extinguished in Western countries in favour or privacy and security (of which I'm also in favour hehe).
I'm living in an estate, where there are many many residential buildings. The estates here are unique in that the first floors are generally taken up by shops and restaurants. It's truly amazing because these shops are generally cheaper than a supermarket or anywhere else for that matter. It may only be a matter of 50 cents for the average item but I can see that for people with families this would really add up over the course of a month. I spent $1.90 on dinner this evening. I'm sure this will all become very humdrum after a couple of months of living here, but as a total outsider this has severe novelty value for me.
It's also very strange for me as someone who grew up in the suburbs of Melbourne. Living in a big house and only vaguely knowing the neighbours and a handful of people in my street (usually because they had children of a similar age), the idea of living in this kind of estate is positively mind-blowing. I'm sure most Singaporeans would laugh at this notion, but to me I walk through the estate and I see a community. I see people sitting outside on public seating chatting to one another, there's the lady who goes around the estate filling up cups of water for the strays and then there's the hawker centre in the middle of the estate upon which people converge to eat, talk and drink some Tiger. I'm very sure that these estates have their issues, their racial disharmony and their petty arguments between neighbours, but ultimately I walk through this place and get a sense of community. Which is something I think is rapidly being extinguished in Western countries in favour or privacy and security (of which I'm also in favour hehe).
Thursday, May 1, 2008
I don't friend you
As I waited at the Starhub store the other day to change address and sort my renewal of contract I happened to notice the two children beside me. The young boy, who was no more than 6, was sitting there writing a list of the people he "friended" and the people he "doesn't friend". Similar to a friends and enemies list, it's much much cuter when it's divided into people we friend and people we don't friend.
Am sitting here in my new apartment, hot but content. Singapore has been frightful the last week or so. The sun is shining and the humidity is sapping my will to do... well... pretty much anything at all. For some bizarre reason the assignment I submitted last weekend uploaded as a blank document. Given that I missed a deadline for a non-assessed piece of work I'm now looking like a prize fool. Have suggested to the course tutor that I email my assignments at the same time as I upload them as a gesture of good faith.
But yes, I find myself once more living alone in a foreign country. The last time I did this was when I was living in Shanghai which was a bizarre experience unto itself (during the SARS scare). I know a lot of people don't, but I quite enjoy living by myself. I'm a fairly sociable creature but living alone gives me some serious time to myself even if that just means sitting on my arse updating my blog.
Saw Iron Man last night. Lots of fun, a smart script in many places helped along by Downey Jnr's performance, some great futurist tech and a very pretty looking suit of armour. I wasn't actually expecting to enjoy this one quite so much, but its a very nice start to the Summer blockbuster season. Bring on the Bat!
Am sitting here in my new apartment, hot but content. Singapore has been frightful the last week or so. The sun is shining and the humidity is sapping my will to do... well... pretty much anything at all. For some bizarre reason the assignment I submitted last weekend uploaded as a blank document. Given that I missed a deadline for a non-assessed piece of work I'm now looking like a prize fool. Have suggested to the course tutor that I email my assignments at the same time as I upload them as a gesture of good faith.
But yes, I find myself once more living alone in a foreign country. The last time I did this was when I was living in Shanghai which was a bizarre experience unto itself (during the SARS scare). I know a lot of people don't, but I quite enjoy living by myself. I'm a fairly sociable creature but living alone gives me some serious time to myself even if that just means sitting on my arse updating my blog.
Saw Iron Man last night. Lots of fun, a smart script in many places helped along by Downey Jnr's performance, some great futurist tech and a very pretty looking suit of armour. I wasn't actually expecting to enjoy this one quite so much, but its a very nice start to the Summer blockbuster season. Bring on the Bat!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
New Home
So after much deliberation, phone calls and looking at dirty, poorly kept apartments I have managed to find something. Have signed the lease and will move in gradually over the next week, if I ever find the time between work and my assignments. This is one of those times where it sucks not having a car as I'll have to make several trips in taxis to get my stuff there. I'm paying more than I wanted to but am happier and happier the more I think about the apartment. There's heaps of space so I'll be able to really settle in and get some work done now.
Am starting back at work tomorrow, which is usually something people dread after 3 weeks off. Me? I can't wait. Admittedly I've been in at work several times over the past week or so, including being there all of yesterday afternoon. My new schedule is exciting and my days off work much better for me. Previously my days off were Sunday/Monday but now I have a "normal" weekend which is great for however long that lasts.
Out for drinks a few nights back, I ended up meeting and drinking with a group of regional tobacco salesmen. Talking, talking, talking and then the most senior of them asked me what I did for a living. When I told him I got this pained look that said "Oh my God, you're the scum of the Earth and how can you afford to drink in this expensive bar". I have to love the irony of being looked down upon by someone that sells tobacco in Asia. This guy was the stereotypical rich, white expatriate. Flush with funds, always eager to take a hooker home and an automatic authority on every possible subject known to man whilst being exceptionally close-minded when it comes to any kind of alternative opinion. I do know quite a few lovely expats (outside of my co-workers who are generally very nice) but many of the others are just know-it-all alcoholics with a penchant for SE Asian pussy. Excuse my French.
My friend's wife arrived yesterday so I am theoretically trying to finish up all my work so we can go for a couple of drinks later this afternoon. Obviously, my sitting here typing isn't even subtle procrastination. More like very direct avoidance.
Am starting back at work tomorrow, which is usually something people dread after 3 weeks off. Me? I can't wait. Admittedly I've been in at work several times over the past week or so, including being there all of yesterday afternoon. My new schedule is exciting and my days off work much better for me. Previously my days off were Sunday/Monday but now I have a "normal" weekend which is great for however long that lasts.
Out for drinks a few nights back, I ended up meeting and drinking with a group of regional tobacco salesmen. Talking, talking, talking and then the most senior of them asked me what I did for a living. When I told him I got this pained look that said "Oh my God, you're the scum of the Earth and how can you afford to drink in this expensive bar". I have to love the irony of being looked down upon by someone that sells tobacco in Asia. This guy was the stereotypical rich, white expatriate. Flush with funds, always eager to take a hooker home and an automatic authority on every possible subject known to man whilst being exceptionally close-minded when it comes to any kind of alternative opinion. I do know quite a few lovely expats (outside of my co-workers who are generally very nice) but many of the others are just know-it-all alcoholics with a penchant for SE Asian pussy. Excuse my French.
My friend's wife arrived yesterday so I am theoretically trying to finish up all my work so we can go for a couple of drinks later this afternoon. Obviously, my sitting here typing isn't even subtle procrastination. More like very direct avoidance.
Monday, April 21, 2008
It's a Small World Afterall
When I first arrived here I was told that Singapore is a very small place. Coming from a city with a similar population, I understood it but didn't read too much into it. Over a few drinks in Holland Village yesterday my friends and I bumped into a girl from our work. She was with a group of her friends at another bar. As they were leaving our co-worker came over and said hi. I introduced myself to her friends and one of them turns around and remarks that she knew me. I looked her up and down, racking my brain, thinking "oh God, please let this not be an embarrassing thing". But no. She said I was sitting next to her in a restaurant a few days prior and I said to the person I was with how good her food smelled. And indeed, I had said exactly that at a Taiwanese restaurant a few days earlier. Granted I didn't recognise her in the slightest but it was a strange coincidence nonetheless.
Will boycotting Carrefour and KFC send any kind of proper message to anyone other than CEOs and shareholders of the above corporations? Having spoken about this very issue yesterday, this article provoked a bit further thought on my part. Nationalism is a powerful force particularly when a country feels that they have been slighted by another country/countries. In this century alone we've seen the Americans react strongly on a national level to (unequivocally) a tragedy. Now we're seeing it again with China. Though this is not quite on the same scale as the first example, the end result is much the same - people are incredibly upset, people are making wild assertions based on zero evidence and diplomacy between the countries involved is icy.
It's a complex issue because as Westerners we believe our media is a far more reliable source than one directly controlled by the government in a country where everything from blogs to YouTube is censored. So we have a situation where one party feels that they know the truth (and I happen to be a member of that camp) and another party who have total faith in their government and have been raised on an edited historical record since birth. Therefore, to them, that history stands as truth. As Westerners we question our media, often obsessively and this is where blogs have actually become an integral and powerful part of the media dialogue in our countries. Obviously, that's a dangerous thing when you are trying to control the media outright. Just makes you wonder how widespread this all is. It was only recently that a Singaporean politician warned of the possible advent of rampant anti-Western sentiment in China because of these torch protests.
Having lived in Shanghai for a period, is it just me who thinks it's odd that a country which has very little in the way of wheelchair access and facilities for the disabled is currently hailing a disabled athlete as a national hero?
And yes, obviously I think it's a disgrace that protesters would attack someone that is disabled.
Will boycotting Carrefour and KFC send any kind of proper message to anyone other than CEOs and shareholders of the above corporations? Having spoken about this very issue yesterday, this article provoked a bit further thought on my part. Nationalism is a powerful force particularly when a country feels that they have been slighted by another country/countries. In this century alone we've seen the Americans react strongly on a national level to (unequivocally) a tragedy. Now we're seeing it again with China. Though this is not quite on the same scale as the first example, the end result is much the same - people are incredibly upset, people are making wild assertions based on zero evidence and diplomacy between the countries involved is icy.
It's a complex issue because as Westerners we believe our media is a far more reliable source than one directly controlled by the government in a country where everything from blogs to YouTube is censored. So we have a situation where one party feels that they know the truth (and I happen to be a member of that camp) and another party who have total faith in their government and have been raised on an edited historical record since birth. Therefore, to them, that history stands as truth. As Westerners we question our media, often obsessively and this is where blogs have actually become an integral and powerful part of the media dialogue in our countries. Obviously, that's a dangerous thing when you are trying to control the media outright. Just makes you wonder how widespread this all is. It was only recently that a Singaporean politician warned of the possible advent of rampant anti-Western sentiment in China because of these torch protests.
Having lived in Shanghai for a period, is it just me who thinks it's odd that a country which has very little in the way of wheelchair access and facilities for the disabled is currently hailing a disabled athlete as a national hero?
And yes, obviously I think it's a disgrace that protesters would attack someone that is disabled.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Dagnabbit!
I'm not sure when exactly it happened, but I realise I have become an old man. I'm making Grandpa Simpson look reasonable.
Exhibit A :
I listen to talkback podcasts both from Australia and on the BBC. Talkback!!!! I do listen to it often to hear the crazies. But where is this leading? Do I move from amused bystander (by-listener?) to actually making calls myself? The worst part is that I've actually been tempted to call in. Sigh... this is a bad sign.
Exhibit B :
This should be prefaced by saying that for some reasons Singaporeans think it's ok to talk noisily through a movie. Seemingly the other patrons think this is ok too because noone ever says anything. I went to see a film by myself yesterday (I do that a lot here because I often have time free during the day). It was a thriller and was hinged upon dialogue between the characters with some random acts of torture thrown in. So a group of teenagers came in and began their noisy conversation. I gave the usual glares etc, which may have been ineffective given how dark it was in the cinema. This went on for some time and eventually the pulsating vein in my head popped. I stood up, went the two rows behind me and told the kids "If you guys don't shut the fuck up I'll take you outside and make this movie look like a picnic." Needless to say, they were very very quiet for the rest of the film.
Now I'm not a bulky guy. I'm sure they would have been the ones making the movie look like a picnic. However I think what caused me to get up was the horrendous hangover that had been plaguing me since I arrived home at 6am that morning. I felt really awful about saying this to a bunch of teenagers (even though I would never follow through on such a threat in a million years) but also quite empowered. I just can't understand why anyone would spend money to go and see a film and then talk all the way through it.
But yes, apparently I'm now engaging in old man grumpiness.
Exhibit A :
I listen to talkback podcasts both from Australia and on the BBC. Talkback!!!! I do listen to it often to hear the crazies. But where is this leading? Do I move from amused bystander (by-listener?) to actually making calls myself? The worst part is that I've actually been tempted to call in. Sigh... this is a bad sign.
Exhibit B :
This should be prefaced by saying that for some reasons Singaporeans think it's ok to talk noisily through a movie. Seemingly the other patrons think this is ok too because noone ever says anything. I went to see a film by myself yesterday (I do that a lot here because I often have time free during the day). It was a thriller and was hinged upon dialogue between the characters with some random acts of torture thrown in. So a group of teenagers came in and began their noisy conversation. I gave the usual glares etc, which may have been ineffective given how dark it was in the cinema. This went on for some time and eventually the pulsating vein in my head popped. I stood up, went the two rows behind me and told the kids "If you guys don't shut the fuck up I'll take you outside and make this movie look like a picnic." Needless to say, they were very very quiet for the rest of the film.
Now I'm not a bulky guy. I'm sure they would have been the ones making the movie look like a picnic. However I think what caused me to get up was the horrendous hangover that had been plaguing me since I arrived home at 6am that morning. I felt really awful about saying this to a bunch of teenagers (even though I would never follow through on such a threat in a million years) but also quite empowered. I just can't understand why anyone would spend money to go and see a film and then talk all the way through it.
But yes, apparently I'm now engaging in old man grumpiness.
Monday, April 14, 2008
That crazy place called 'Gym'
As I'm trying to be good, and my current holidays allow it, I'm back at the gym once more. I saw Salsa today at the gym. As usual she danced around and did her dream-like thing. At one point she danced up to me as I took a breather between sets and high-fived me. Oh God, I'm being high-fived in the gym. I'm so not that guy. Nor am I the guy that drinks protein shakes, which really smell quite foul I might add. They have this unnatural smell that lies someone between medicine and obsession. I sometimes think I am the only guy that goes to that gym that is not drinking protein shakes or steroid juice.
In case it appears that I'm some kind of gym junkie - Im not. Far from it. I mostly go to the gym to work off hangovers and guilt over my relentless lifestyle and often have a cigarette as soon as I get out. Yeah, real healthy.
Salsa actually called me last Saturday afternoon under the pretense of finding out some more info about what kind of apartment I was looking for. Conversation meandered and she's charged me with the task of finding a nice white guy in his 50s. Yes, I'm Sox the Matchmaker now. I told her that I didn't know many men in their 50s and certainly none that I would introduce to a lonely divorcee. Most of the men I know in their 50s here are right prats who would have trouble providing the usual stability of a relationship outside of cashflow. I did ask Salsa about her dancing, which she is happy to talk about at length. At one point she said that "the music is in me" and that she often cooks with the gas on low so she can dance at the same time. Yes, this verges on weirdness but it's also kind of intriguing in the sense that I genuinely believe the universe does actually sing to her and she has little choice but to follow the tune.
In case it appears that I'm some kind of gym junkie - Im not. Far from it. I mostly go to the gym to work off hangovers and guilt over my relentless lifestyle and often have a cigarette as soon as I get out. Yeah, real healthy.
Salsa actually called me last Saturday afternoon under the pretense of finding out some more info about what kind of apartment I was looking for. Conversation meandered and she's charged me with the task of finding a nice white guy in his 50s. Yes, I'm Sox the Matchmaker now. I told her that I didn't know many men in their 50s and certainly none that I would introduce to a lonely divorcee. Most of the men I know in their 50s here are right prats who would have trouble providing the usual stability of a relationship outside of cashflow. I did ask Salsa about her dancing, which she is happy to talk about at length. At one point she said that "the music is in me" and that she often cooks with the gas on low so she can dance at the same time. Yes, this verges on weirdness but it's also kind of intriguing in the sense that I genuinely believe the universe does actually sing to her and she has little choice but to follow the tune.
House-hunting
The Great Property Hunt of 2008 is going somewhat disastrously. Despite having numerous agents searching for me, none are able to come up with anything. Many of them just blatantly don't call back after saying they will. Admittedly I do have two guys out there hunting who seem to genuinely want to help me which is lovely. That said, I'm beginning to feel that I may in fact have to resort to that most dreaded of options - sharehousing.
Now I have been in sharehouses in Wakayama, Shizuoka and Melbourne. The Melbourne experience was the only positive one and that was largely due to me living with a good (and very chilled out) friend. The two Japan experiences have ranged from average to horrendous. There was one guy I lived with that was a devout Christian and quite possibly the most boring individual I'd ever met. The one nice thing about being an ex-pat is that you get to have opinions and people want to listen. The result of this is that you also listen to other people's opinions, disagree boisterously and then laugh and buy one another a beer. Even though people disagree there's still a mutual respect for where someone is coming from and what their life experience has entailed. Of course I have my rose-coloured glasses firmly in place and am ignoring all the gigantic assholes who are unable to accept any opinion that is not their own. By and large though the life of an ex-pat is a fascinating one because you interact daily with people from all over the world. This particular housemate though was something else. Utterly unable to accept any other kind of lifestyle or opinion our relationship was handicapped from the start because I got *that feeling*.
I may not be very bright and I may make some very poor decisions in my life, but the one thing I can, and have always been able to, rely on is my initial instincts when I meet people. They rarely fail me and when I met this housemate I just knew there was something "off" about him. I had to be taken from the room by a friend one night when he entered into a conversation about porn in Japan that I was having with some friends. He told us very seriously that porn was adultery. While I would definitely argue this point I also knew there was little point with a guy like him. And fair enough anyway, as a religious pundit he's entitled to that opinion - after all, it's not really one that hurts anyone. He then went on to expand his idea to include the very notion of thinking about another woman was adultery. Yes, you read right. By this logic one is committing adultery every time they see a hot girl on the street and their imagination kicks in for a few seconds before the mundaneness of everyday takes hold once more. My friend knew me quite well and could see the anger in my cheeks after he had said this so I was taken to the balcony to cool off and have a cigarette. Mission accomplished.
A postscript to all this is that directly after I left Japan, and I'm talking less than a week, he was found to have a Japanese girl stay over in his room. The girl was one of our students, no less! I have very strict ethical rules about dating students (I teach adults btw) and they basically amount to : UH UH, NO WAY, NOT EVER. Besides which it was actually a fireable offense with our employer at the time. To cap all of this off, he had a girlfriend in the States the entire time (I think they were engaged, iirc, despite her only being 19). So my instincts about that particular one were correct.
The point of all this? Wish me the biggest luck because housesharing is just so much pot luck and I never want to be in a situation again where the thought of going to my own home turns my stomach.
Now I have been in sharehouses in Wakayama, Shizuoka and Melbourne. The Melbourne experience was the only positive one and that was largely due to me living with a good (and very chilled out) friend. The two Japan experiences have ranged from average to horrendous. There was one guy I lived with that was a devout Christian and quite possibly the most boring individual I'd ever met. The one nice thing about being an ex-pat is that you get to have opinions and people want to listen. The result of this is that you also listen to other people's opinions, disagree boisterously and then laugh and buy one another a beer. Even though people disagree there's still a mutual respect for where someone is coming from and what their life experience has entailed. Of course I have my rose-coloured glasses firmly in place and am ignoring all the gigantic assholes who are unable to accept any opinion that is not their own. By and large though the life of an ex-pat is a fascinating one because you interact daily with people from all over the world. This particular housemate though was something else. Utterly unable to accept any other kind of lifestyle or opinion our relationship was handicapped from the start because I got *that feeling*.
I may not be very bright and I may make some very poor decisions in my life, but the one thing I can, and have always been able to, rely on is my initial instincts when I meet people. They rarely fail me and when I met this housemate I just knew there was something "off" about him. I had to be taken from the room by a friend one night when he entered into a conversation about porn in Japan that I was having with some friends. He told us very seriously that porn was adultery. While I would definitely argue this point I also knew there was little point with a guy like him. And fair enough anyway, as a religious pundit he's entitled to that opinion - after all, it's not really one that hurts anyone. He then went on to expand his idea to include the very notion of thinking about another woman was adultery. Yes, you read right. By this logic one is committing adultery every time they see a hot girl on the street and their imagination kicks in for a few seconds before the mundaneness of everyday takes hold once more. My friend knew me quite well and could see the anger in my cheeks after he had said this so I was taken to the balcony to cool off and have a cigarette. Mission accomplished.
A postscript to all this is that directly after I left Japan, and I'm talking less than a week, he was found to have a Japanese girl stay over in his room. The girl was one of our students, no less! I have very strict ethical rules about dating students (I teach adults btw) and they basically amount to : UH UH, NO WAY, NOT EVER. Besides which it was actually a fireable offense with our employer at the time. To cap all of this off, he had a girlfriend in the States the entire time (I think they were engaged, iirc, despite her only being 19). So my instincts about that particular one were correct.
The point of all this? Wish me the biggest luck because housesharing is just so much pot luck and I never want to be in a situation again where the thought of going to my own home turns my stomach.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Underbelly
Australian television should be good but unfortunately rarely is. I have begun watching Underbelly though and it's fantastic. Watching the first episode was a bit weird when you actually know one of the main players in the series. Seeing an actor playing that person is odd and a tad scary to say the least. No, I don't know that player well at all - schoolyard connections from way too many years ago.
That said, it was a bit scary to look at the front page of The Age the other day and see this article. Wouldn't it be weird to see this guy walking down Orchard Road someday this week!
Oh yes, and one of my best friends arrives on the weekend - yay!
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