It turned out that Kirk wanted to play matchmaker and introduce me to his friend Brian, who is American. This is apparently Kirk’s first time being a matchmaker and he was excessively blatant about it. It was odd to hear him praise me and speak English with me too. Usually he pokes fun at me and almost always speaks Chinese.

Brian and I chatted for a bit, but then my friend Jimmy, who is moving to Australia to be with(and marry?) his boyfriend there. For some strange reason, three unrelated friends of mine have met older Australian men and are considering moving to Australia. I have to see this continent someday.

In any case, Jimmy’s friend, a guy I don’t really know, entered the conversation as we were talking about Tai-chi sword. It seems that this bloke is really into Tai-chi, and he really went on and on about it. I became more and more conscious of Brian sitting next to me as this guy goes on. Every time there was a pause in the conversation I tried to end it, but none of my conversation-ending tactics worked. Before I knew it, Kirk and Brian were leaving, and I felt like a total schmuck. Kirk came back in again after seeing Brian off and roundly scolded me for acting that way. He has been calling me here at work today and scolding me too. He can’t believe how atrociously I acted, how could I throw such an opportunity away? he says. I offered to call Brian or email him, but Kirk doesn’t know how to get in touch with him, and he is leaving soon. But there is one way, maybe; I gave him my card with this URL on it, so, Brian, if you’re reading this, please accept my apologies for my behavior last night; it was inexcusable. It was fun talking to you and I hope you have a good stay in Taipei.

Today at work I noticed a strange silence when I walk. My old shoes, year-old Black Nike Air-maxes, had wore out to the point that the air pockets broke, and then I walked it sounded as if I were walking on live, loudly protesting ducks. Now I have new shoes, though, and I can tread silently, or at least until the air pockets on my new shoes wear out.

Came across the Adventures of a Big White Guy Living in Hong Kong, which is practically next door. It isso much better than my site, it’s embarrassing.

And yet another weekend, gone. I haven’t quite worked out my angst from last week, and now I have to deal with that as well as the angst from this week. As you can see, I deal with my angst much in the same way as I deal with my laundry. I have to admit neither system works all that well.

I did manage to find the martial arts store in Wanhua, and I did get a couple of pairs of traditional black Kung-fu shoes for practice. The guy disdained anything but a practice swords.”We don’t like those flashy swords,” he said. He did recommend one place, though, but it was closed and the owner was locking up when I got there, even though the sign said the place closed at 6pm. “Come back tomorrow,” he told me. I ended up walking back home all the way from Wanhua, which is a distance of several miles. The nice thing about Taipei is, no matter how well you know the city, and I know it better than I know anywhere else, there are always little pockets of it that you’ve never been to before. I felt the need to walk unfamiliar streets, and I got my fill. I even ran across a split-level temple. It was like the Brady Bunch house, but it was a temple. Cool. Beyond the Brady Temple was Wanhua Train Station, which is located underground, has been for ages, but they’re still working on the parking lot and street outside. The interposition of North-south street grids by the Japanese on the original streets has made for all sorts of crazy angles and intersections and really strangely shaped lots, resulting in even more strangely shaped buildings, as Taiwanese tend to build buildings in whatever shape the lot happens to be, in order to use all the space available.

Last night I went out drinking with Dean, Carl and Brian, who is back from the states. We went to the Mao cafe, which is moving, apparently, and thus did not even have any doritos. Some of Brian’s friends were there, too. Then we went to Saints and Sinners, run by our good friend and hostess excellente Donnabel. Later on, after a trivia contest with easy questions like “Who played Princess Leia in Star Wars?”, the British blokes kept breaking out into traditionally lewd songs and the like. It was amazing. Most of the people knew the words to these songs and sang along. I’d never witnessed anything like it. We could have been in a pub in London a century ago from the sound of it. I stayed until 3 or 4, when I was sobered up enough to ride my motorcycle home, and then remembered that I had sword practice at 8am the next morning.

I actually went. I actually got up and went, but I didn’t do anything, as today was a special day, and the special teacher was teaching a form I didn’t know. Oh, well. But I was up, so I went to the West Gate District. Everyone says “Hsimenting” or something, but I like the sound of “West Gate District”. It sounds like an old brothel area that way. The West Gate, by the way, is the only one of Taipei’s original gate to be torn down. It was torn down by the Japanese soon after their occupation, but there was so much protest that they left the other four up, and they’re still around.

But the West Gate District was closed. I wandered around it’s empty streets, lined with closed shops, from before 10am to after 2pm, when things started opening. I bought some shoes, but when I got out again, the sky opened up and rain was falling in sheets. It was raining so hard it went right through my umbrella(this may have had something to do with its acidity as well). I was soaked by the time I got back home to pick up my T-shirt materials to take to Shilin to have the shirts made. But, true to form, the shop was closed, even though they said on the phone they would be open until 4pm. Sorry! I went back to the sword store, but they were closed as well.

I saw the guy I met on the Internet again tonight. We went to see “Along Came a Spider”, which was pretty bad, I thought. Typical Hollywood, which dissapointed me because Morgan Freeman is capable of so much more depth than he was allowed in this picture. Anyway, this guy seemed a little more comfortable with me this time. He has a nice smile, and doesn’t try to speak English with me all the time, unlike some people. I want to see more of him.

In any case, the weekend is gone, and I have to be at work early tomorrow because there’s some important case that needs to be worked on, and I said I couldn’t do overtime on Friday because of my class.

Kirk just called me and want me to come to The Source. I have no idea why; he doesn’t usually hang out there. I’ve never been on a Sunday, though, so I am going to check it out, even though I really do need sleep.

It’s Saturday. What a relief. Except it is a rather grey Saturday; still, if the motorcycle repair shop downstairs is open today, I can retrieve my motorcycle and set about today’s business, which includes the following items:

1. Go to martial arts store in Wanhua to get some new Kung-fu shoes and look at swords.

2. Visit the T-shirt store next to the Jiantan MRT station and see what kind of deal I can cut. Also, should I try to sell my T-shirts through this site? I’ll probably make one batch and see how people like them. Already I’ve gotten requests from friends in the states that want them, sight unseen.

3. Maybe visit the jade market.

4. See about new shoes. The nike’s I bought about a year ago are wearing out already.

5. Maybe see a movie.

The neighbors have decided to renovate their apartment, which of course involves weeks of jackhammering. The fact that 99% of Taiwanese buildings are made of concrete means that whenever someone wants to do anything with their apartment, it will invariably involve a jackhammer or two, and I will bet real money that the guys operating the jackhammers have no idea that the wall they’re tearing down is likely either a supporting wall or a firewall. I would ask our neighbors about this, if doing this will affect the stability of our building, but I already know the answer I will get: “Aiya! Buhui la!”(Oh, of course not!”).

Uh-oh. Was that thunder I heard? I should get going.

I have had very little to do at work these past few days, but it grated on me nonetheless. Today’s grey, drizzly weather obliterated the normal view of the mountains that surround Taipei, and all the eye could see was ugly, chaotic buildings marching into the mist. I was in a foul mood for most of the day. All I wanted to do was get out of there. Sword practice helped a bit, as always. The people there are nice and natural, unlike my other Tai-chi class, which I tried to quit last night. I told the teacher I couldn’t afford it any more, and he told me that it was ok, I didn’t have to pay, I could come anyway(well, he didn’t rhyme like that in Chinese, but essentially that’s what he said). This left me confused. Was he serious? If so, isn’t that unfair to all the people who do pay? Or was he just being polite? Should I stop going anyway? Probably. I don’t feel right about going and not paying. It’s like those foreigners who pretend they don’t speak Chinese when they get pulled over by the police here. I don’t want any special treatment; it makes me feel slimy.

In any case, I am going to stick with the Sword class, and I am going to start going every Sunday as well. I may even get a new sword, although I already have two, so I probably don’t need another one. Some of the people in the class have beautiful swords, though, with dragon heads and engraved blades, nice, heavy swords that are balanced just right…maybe I’ll go take a look at what’s available, just to see…

After Sword class I walked through the Minsheng district, my old haunts back when I lived with the Landlady from Hell about nine years ago, and met up with some friends at Kiss La Boca, a ritzy dance club filled with really annoying people. It was like all of the people in this city who annoy me were there. I was waiting for my friends to arrive in the hallway when one of the men in suits at the doorway came over and barked “Get inside!” at me.

“Gee, you guys are really polite!” I said as I turned to go, but the guy got in my face, saying “SO! SO!” in English. I was surprised that anyone working at a supposedly high-class establishment would act that way. Rather than giving into the tempting strategy of demanding to know who the Fuck he thought he was, I went back inside.

The band was pretty good. I wish I had found out their name, but they will be here for a few months, playing every Friday night. They started out slow, but later on they really whipped the crowd up into a frenzy. Kiss is set up pretty nice, with a two-story arena area for the stage and balconies, from which I watched the band and the audience. They use way too much strobe lighting, but otherwise the effects were cool. The remote swivelling lights in particular looked like those automatic laser turrets that pop out of the bottom of the Millennium Falcon.One of the singers did the “Di-da-di” song in Chinese(Most Taiwanese people think that Coco Lee wrote that song, but, sorry, Coco Lee has never written a song in her life. She has no music of her own. She is an arrogant bitch, or at least she was when we interviewed her at TVBS. I have no idea why people like her. Rant ends here). The bass player was hyperactive in an entertaining way, but I could barely hear the guitar except when he had a solo. A good act; I enjoyed their show and wouldn’t mind seeing them again. If only I could avoid being in the midst of all of those incredibly superficial people!

I met the guy I was chatting online with a couple of nights ago. He seemed nervous and distracted when we were talking over drinks at the Peshawar Cafe. It could be I wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. He seems like a cool guy, though, and I would like to get to know him better.

It is still raining. Looks like it is going to be another rainy weekend. I have been reading the Blog of the Tin Man. It’s interesting. I makes me wonder what my life would have been like if, as my former colleague from the News said, I had fell in love with New York City and just stayed there after finishing my studies. I miss New York, in a way. It is the center of its world, and it never lets you forget it. I think the extreme cold and heat would get to me eventually, though. The main reason I loved it so much, I think, is because I was making films there, and that in itself was what made it such an experience for me. Everyone should visit New York City at least once.

I got an email from a joint called Kittridge Street DVD. They want to make “Coolishness” into a DVD. Interesting. I wouldn’t mind making a DVD version of Coolishness that includes “The End”, but I don’t think I could actually sell it. Still, it sounds tempting.

I swear, I had nothing to do with this. Honest! I even have alibis!

Last night I was walking home, actually, as my motorcycle is being fixed(for NT$1,700…considerably less than the cost of a new bike). I couldn’t face walking the same route to the same MRT station(Chungshan Junior High School). I just had to do something different, especially after an intensely boring day at the office, so I walked west, all the way to Chungshan N. Road, and then down the MRT park strip to the Taipei train station. They have torn down all of the buildings in the area where the old station used to be, and built what looks like a temporary park, aka just broad, grassy mounds and a few walkways. It was odd, standing in the middle of this big, empty space, in the middle of such a densely crowded city.

I actually met someone interesting in a chat room last night. It’s unusual, because I am usually pretty picky, and I don’t visit it often. But, for once, this guy seemed to have the same general view of things as I do. Can this be a good thing? Stay tuned!

I usually go pretty fast on the Civil Blvd. overpass on Hsinsheng S. Road. I came off it a little too fast yesterday on the way back home, and ended up having to swerve around a couple of buses and plow through the field of little reflector/warning bumpers in order to get back to the motorcycle lane. The impact almost made me lose control and the two metal arms that hold my fairing to the frame of my bike broke, leaving my fairing swinging in the wind.

I need a slower bike.

Blogger’s been acting wierd lately, and I haven’t been able to post in a while. I am not too concerned, though, as there is no direct evidence to date that anyone actually reads this.

The paper said that the fire in Hsichih was due to the fact that someone had torn down the firewalls. Duh! Hello? This is Taiwan, you morons, where walls are torn down indiscriminately every day, all over the city! I can’t believe it took a fire of that magnitude to alert people to the fact that this practice is dangerous. It’s all part of the “Aiyabuhui” people. These are the people that, when you ask them if they are worried that a stupid act upon their part might result in tragedy, say “Aiya! Bu hui le!”(Oh, that’s not going to happen!). If you were to ask the people tearing down the firewalls if they thought it might result in a dangerous situation, I’d bet a serious amount of money that they would have said this. Also the people who ride 6-to-a-scooter, the people that tear out supporting walls that result in building collapses, those drivers who run red lights, the people that build on landslide-prone slopes, and the people that build nuclear power plants(our fourth now, and counting). And, I predict, within a week or two people will resume tearing down firewalls as well, if they even stopped. Live and don’t learn, that’s the motto of the ‘Aiyabuhui’.

It turns out that the place downstairs only does A4-sized prints for their T-shirts. So I am going to have to find another place. Damn. This is going to be harder than I thought.

I did, however, get my photos to the Post this morning. Of all three of the English-language papers here, the Post’s most resembles the traditional newspaper office, dirty and messy, the smell of paper and ink pervading the dark interior. Stacks of newspapers, cups of old coffee, plastic desk-protector. I almost expected to see guys running around with fresh samples in their ink-stained hands and wearing green visors, yelling things like: “Boss! Boss! The Wang deal just broke! Eddie’s got the scoop!”

I forgot to bring in my CD player to work today, so now I am forced to listen to the usual self-important blather which is so prevalent in offices. I can’t even listen to Internet radio, since the firewall blocks streaming. I might just be reduced to listening to my cell phone radio.

An interesting, if not terribly productive weekend. I spent Saturday finishing up my design for the T-shirt I am going to make. I’m not sure if anyone will want to buy one, so I plan to make a few for my friends and anyone else that wants one. If they’re popular, I’ll make more. I hope it’s not too expensive, though.

On Sunday the air quality was terrible. I couldn’ figure it out. Usually when there is a typhoon or tropical storm in the vicinity the air is at its best. But that day there was a definite odor present when I opened my window, and a haze had settled over the city. It turned out that a huge complex of office buildings out in Hsichih was burning down at the time, lit by an insense store, of all things (“Gee, this towering mass of smoke and flaming, twisted metal smells GREAT!”), and the smoke must have blown over the city.

I couldn’t get a hold of Steve, who for some reason takes his phone off the hook when he leaves the house, and Dean had rehearsal, so I went down to Grandma Nitti’s to unload a batch of books I didn’t want any longer and have some brunch. I got NT$100 and three paperbacks for my 6 books, which is better than nothing. As I sat out on the porch, Fish, whom I haven’t seen in a while, came by. As we were talking, Richard showed up as well. Small island.

As I was walking up Roosevelt Road to pick up some computer cables at T-zone, I heard someone call “Hey, what’s up, man?” I don’t know anyone who would address me that way and ignored it. But it was actually my friend from Azerbaidzhan, Fuad. He talked up a new job scouting for various precious metals in the former Soviet Union. After I picked up my cables, he took me to see his new digs, which were nearby.

We walked into an ordinary 4-story Taiwanese apartment building, but at the top floor was a dark, round-topped wooden door with a brass plaque on which was engraved “The Doublin” or something equally anglophilic. Inside was a small maze of hallways, dark wallpaper, carpet, pleated leather-covered doors and heavy-looking gothic blackwood carvings adorning the cornerposts and ceiling arches. I had never seen anything like it in Taiwan before.

“This place was a brothel in the 70’s,” Fuad informed me. “But the police destroyed it in the 80’s. It is a normal place now.”

He took me upstairs to the roof and introduced me to John, a 70-year-old Bostonian who has lived in Taiwan for around 35 years now. John is short and squat and walks with the aid of crutches. In the summer heat he was clad only a pair of grey shorts. He was a university professor for a long time, but the government forced him to retire when he hit 65. He is on a tourist visa now and has to leave every two months. It’s amazing how many people I have met lately who have been in Taiwan for such periods of time.

We talked for a while about Taipei and how it has changed over the years. This man has been here for over twice as long as I have. When he got here there weren’t any scooters or cars, no pavement even. Just pedicabs and dusty streets, one-story, wooden houses. Lots and lots of rice fields and other farmland. He got here several years before I was even born.

In the course of our conversation various other residents of the apartment came and went. Richard even walked by, carrying his laundry. This surprised me as I had thought that he lived over on Chunghsiao, across from Sogo. No, he said, he lived there now.

Small island.

I updated my Photographypage with several new photos, which are located at the bottom of the list. I also added the Penghu story to my Writing page and updated the News from the Renegade Province. Enjoy!

There’s a tropical storm here for the weekend. Wouldn’t really know it from looking out the window. It’s offical name is Tropical Storm Cimaron. Maybe it’s like the Cadillac Cimmaron, in that you really wouldn’t know it was a Cadillac from the look of it.

Sword practice went well last night, I thought. I am starting to pick things up and I am able to remember more and more parts of the form we’re learning. I am going to start practicing twice a week instead of once, because they have the class on Sunday mornings too, and maybe even join the Tui-shou class too. “You should go. Foreigners all love Tui-shou,” the teacher said when inviting me. Someone brought a sword they had had made to class last night. It was beautiful, with real steel and a dragon-head handle, heavy and bright with Chinese characters etched into the blade. Maybe someday if I ever get good enough I can justify owning such a sword. For now, though, my practice swords are good enough.

Went out last night with Dean and met some people from the GIO. Man, they have it good over there. Lot’s of money, not too much to do, excellent benefits…I keep kicking myself that I didn’t go in there personally to hand in my resume so that they would see that I am an actual native speaker of English, and I would have at least gotten an interview. But that’s ok; these kinds of things have a way of working out anyway.

Finally got my namecards done, anyway. When the boss’s wife saw me, she asked her husband if I was an American or an Indian. I guess that, since there is an Indian food restaurant across the street, they get a lot of Indian people there. You may be interested to know that I refrained from making any smart comments, though. Yeah, I’m learning.