Things I did today:

1. Cleaned my room.

That’s it. And it wasn’t even a very thorough job, either. I just have so much stuff it’s impossible to deal with any portion of it and not devote entire days slaving away at it. The result of today’s work is a room one can feasibly walk across without stepping on anything sharp or squishy, or anything that is likely to protest vocally (that’s one of the things I kinda like about turtles, actually).

Another result of today’s dredging of my room was three large sacks of things I wanted to throw away. To do this, of course, I packed them in paper bags and snuck out to some nearby public garbage cans and made sure nobody was looking when I dumped them. The reason I had to do this is our dear government has decided that the garbage problem will go away if everyone packages their garbage in plastic bags that the government sells. It’s such an incredible racket, and one that I refuse to be a part of. I’ll keep using paper bags, thanks very much, so city hall is just going to have to go without that portion of my hard-earned salary in its coffers, and the environment is just going to have to go without the plastic bags I am expected to buy and use to throw away my garbage.

You may be wondering why I would choose to spend the entire day in my room rooting through old papers and floppy disks of dubious legitimacy when I could be outside. The answer is two-fold: first of all, I don’t want to be outside too much because my eyes aren’t healed yet, and secondly, it’s cold and rainy. Tomorrow’s temps are supposed to be 10-14 degrees C, which is just about as cold as it gets in Taiwan proper, so I’ll probably play hide-and-seek with my turtles, although, being reptiles and all, they tend to go into little turtle comas when it gets cold.

Tomorrow I plan to pay my rent and possibly have a meal or two. Exciting stuff. Stay tuned!

Shauna has alerted me to the fact that Tim Tams are a factor in the mideast peace process! Hooray! In fact, my mate Simon and I have been hatching a plan to institute an official worldwide religion based on the tasty Arnot’s treats called “TimTamism”. It would theoretically be the basis for an entire new world order in which everyone would be several pounds heavier, but at least twice as happy. There would be the Five Noble Truths: Regular, Caramel, Double-coat, Mocha and Dark Chocolate. In fact, Tim Tams are the very reason that when I put on a black trenchcoat I resemble “that tubby bastard” Silent Bob rather than a more svelte Keanu Reeves. And, believe it or not, I don’t really mind, because I’ve got Tim Tams. Other major religions have been based on less. I can’t think of any at the moment, but I’m sure there must be some out there.

I’m still on foot, as I don’t quite trust my motorcycle helmet’s ability to keep all of the road dust out of my recently zapped eyes, so I’m taking cabs and the MRT everywhere. Unfortunately, the MRT doesn’t rut out to the Minsheng Community area, where I study Taichi sword. Tonight is that last class in this semester, and I don’t think they are going to teach any new forms after this. I don’t know if I will continue to study there, maybe the Secret Yang Style (I guess it’s not much of a secret anymore), or try to find somewhere else to study.

The Lord of the Rings starts today in Taipei, but I haven’t been able to even get through to the reservations lines, so I doubt I’ll be able to see it anytime soon. In spite of my conviction that it will not be able to live up to my imagination after reading the books something like 15 times since I was a teenager, I still want to see it, simply because I’m curious to see Peter Jackson’s vision of one of my favorite pieces of literature ever.

The office is looking rather bare as the posters and other adornments are removed. Entire walls have vanished as we prepare for the Big Move next weekend. Hopefully at some point all of this will interfere with my work, but so far, no luck. I’ll know we’re close to that point when the life-size inflatable Spiderman clinging to one of the office windows disappears.

One of the secretaries just came by and put little stickers on all of my cubicle parts. I asked her what they were for, and she said that the company is selling all of it’s cubicle parts to employees.

I’m curious to know just who would miss their cubicle so much that want to actually have one at home to remind them what a wonderful thing office life here is. It’s bad enough working in a cubicle, but actually waking up to one? Ugh.

It will probably take me about 30 minutes in the new “open office”, however, before I start missing my old cubicle. Seesaw or no seesaw, I do enjoy having my own space at least, and at least a cubicle is better than nothing.

Last night after work I took the MRT to have a look at our new offices. It was clear the moment I stepped out of the station which building was ours; it’s the one with the large red sign bearing our company’s name on top of it. I walked through the two nearly identical Mitsukoshi Department Stores(I still can’t figure our the marketing strategy behind that one), past Neo-19, and into the still incomplete building. I don’t know how they’re going to get it done in a little over a week. I saw one or two workers putting in floors, but no one else.

In front of the building is a strangely isolated bridge. I call it the “Bridge to Nowhere”, because it looks like a bridge that once ran between two buildings that no longer exist, but there were no buildings there before that area was developed. They just build it, and no one knows why. There’s no way up or down, and in any case there’s nothing to cross over. It’s just a completely unnecessary bridge, sitting right in front of our building. I like it.

There’s not a lot of floorspace on each floor. It’s not a large building in that respect. There were no furnishings inside so it was hard to tell what it will be like when it’s ready for occupation. I am not confident about the whole “open office” thing, though. It sounds too much to me like one of those 50’s offices that people like Jack Lemon worked in in The Apartment (and at least he had a nice apartment). According to reports, however, our new building will eventually sport swings and a seesaw. And hopefully the pub will serve actual alcohol. Lemon Lime and Bitters would be most welcome, thank you very much. And Bailey’s Irish Cream. And nachos. Although the first and so far only Chili’s in Taiwan is located in the building next door, I haven’t heard very many good things about it. There is also a swimming pool in the building next door, I could see it from the rooftop gardens when I went up there to explore. Hopefully we’ll negotiate some sort of discount with them, something I can afford.

I fear that working over there, however, will introduce a certain isolation from traditional Taiwanese life. Kirk once remarked to me as we were walking from the MRT to Warner Village to see a movie that he didn’t feel comfortable in that area because it was too wide open, too Western and altogether too foreign. “It’s not like Taiwan at all,” he said. To him and many others, Taiwan means crowded, dirty little streets packed with tackily dressed people, food stands and thousands of scooters. I have to admit I agree. There’s something oddly soulless about clean, broad shopping venues. Perhaps this is a natural feeling in the face of change, something people here have gone through over and over again throughout Taiwan’s rapid development. I don’t even know where I am going to park my motorcycle over there, as there was no apparent parking lot other than the one for Warner Village.

Since the protective glasses the doctor gave me to protect my fragile orbs from dust and the like are basically shit, I bought another pair at the Warner complex. They vaguely resemble the ones Vin Diesel wore in Pitch Black and hopefully will do an equally good job of keeping out the elements.

I awoke this morning to a grey, cold, drizzly day. It was a perfect opportunity to combine my new sunglasses with my black trenchcoat and black bandana for a sort of “Silent Bob in the Matrix” effect. I could read the minds of passers by: Who does this asshole think he is, dressing like that? At least that’s usually what leaps to my mind when I see other people dressed in a similar fashion. Hopefully I don’t act as much like an asshole as the people I see dressed like that.

Then again, just who are we talking about here?

Gotta go see the eye doctor again tonight, except tonight he is going to be at his office on Zhongxiao E. Road, across the street from Sogo. I’m still getting used to not having glasses or contacts in. I’ll be getting ready for bed and thinking “Oh, I should take my contacts out,” when I realize I’m not wearing any. It’s rather pleasant, actually. It will be even more pleasant next month when my vision stabilizes and I don’t have to wear eye covers at night.

I learned some interesting things about our new office today. Not only do we have a basketball court, ping-pong and a pool table at our new office, but there’s also a giant Chinese chessboard on the 8th floor. The thing is twice the size of my room. There’s also a pub.

I’ve also learned that we are supposed to show up on Sunday morning at 6 a.m. to “inaugurate” the place. It’s a feng-shui thing, apparently, but that don’t mean I have to like it. I’ll be there, but they had better not give me shit for yawning. I’m happy that Whiny Woman (who is wearing a baby-blue jumpsuit jacket, miniskirt and black lacy stockings today), is leaving and all, but damn.

More depressing news: The “dress code” for our Annual Wei-ya Party is, get this, “Doctors and Nurses”. In a tent in the company parking lot. How incredibly lame is that? eah, like my idea of a good time involves a hospital atmosphere. However, I think “patients” are allowed as well, so I might just douse myself in ketchup, stick a fake meat cleaver on my head, go up to all of the “doctors” and say “Excuse me, but I’ve have this strange throbbing pain in my left temple for the last couple of days. Could you prescribe something for that?”

I don’t usually go for these test things, but you know I had to take this one:

You have a genius intellect and an awesome sense of humor. You can sarcastically put someone in their place without batting an eye. Your only problems seem to be that you have trouble acknowledging your true feelings and you may use your humor as a defense to hide what you are really feeling. But, your godliness overpowers any insignificant flaws you may have. Even if you tend to pass gas during very inconvenient moments. Take The “Which Kevin Smith Male Are You?” Quiz.

The good news is that I’m feeling quite a bit better. The bad news is that I’m back at work, the Land of Incompetent IT Staff, where LAN stands for “Laughable Archaic Nonsense”. My sight is pretty much restored, although things are still a bit fuzzy at night. I have to put drops in my eyes in a complex order not unlike morse code signals every hour, and I have to sleep with patches over my eyes in case I have a dream in which I am forced to watch Sailor Moon cartoons and try to rip out my own eyeballs in my sleep.

The procedure was sort of like an assembly line. Kirk and I went over to the clinic to find it full of people waiting for the operation. I was third in line, but it still took a couple of hours for them to get to me. Apparently the doctor called in to see if there was enough people there before he was willing to come in.

Kirk had brought the Chinese version of The Hobbit to read while I went under the knife. The nurse gave me her spiel about the dangers of surgery and all that, and then, after a couple of hours, they finally called my name. They escorted me into a little room where I had to put covers over my sneakers and on my head while the nurse smeared anesthetic goo around my eyes. Then I was escorted into the operation room, where one of two LASIK machines was being used. I wondered if they ever have both going, like a competition to see who gets the most patients done, or maybe it was just there as a backup in case the first machine failed. Neither possibility was all that encouraging, I thought as the nurse motioned for me to sit in a chair and watch the previous patient get zapped to the sound of classical music playing scratchily from a portable radio in the corner.

When it was my turn I got on the swiveling table and grabbed the proffered pillow underneath the calico quilt. They covered up my face and started. When the machine started making loud clicking noises the doctor said it was “measuring” my eyes, but from the smell he was either lying or having some barbeque on the side as he worked.

Afterwards Kirk walked me home, describing my state in a helpful fashion as “pathetic.” I took the medicine, covered my eyes, and lay down for a day or two of pain. A word of advice: Don’t let anyone tell you that LASIK is painless. The people that tell you that were just kept sedated for a day or two afterwards, I’ll wager.

In other news, our new desk assignments have been posted, and there has been a more-or-less permanant knot of people over in front of the bulletin boards trying to see where they will be sitting at the new office. I found my desk and looked all over for Whiny Woman’s name, but she wasn’t listed at all. It turns out that she, uh, how do I put this, won’t be making the move with us.

Hooray! No more Whiny Woman! Instead I’ll be sitting in a four-person cubicle with Chen Bochuan, a stocky, good-looking fellow from the creative department, which also means I might be able to use his Mac, and the two other seats are empty for now. I will have to make a “No Whining” sign in case anyone gets it into their heads to move people of the Whiny pursuation in there.

My desk is right next to the pool table, which could be nice, although I would rather be close to the ping-pong table. There’s also a basketball court and swimming pool, and I suspect there is also a helicopter pad but I’m not sure where exactly. Probably next to the rooftop gardens. My diet will probably go to hell, and I will also probably be spending a lot more money on food and movies since we’ll be right next door to Warner Village, but hey, I guess I can’t have everything.

Can’t spend too much time looking at the computer monitor, so this’ll be short. The eye surgery was a lot more painful than I was led to believe by the people I talked to who had done it. It wasn’t pleasant in the first place, and when the anasthetic wore off my eyes hurt like a motherfucker. And then I had an allergic reaction to the eye drops they prescribed. In short: Urgh.

I am taking today off of work so that I don’t have to spend the entire day staring at a little computer screen. I plan to go in tomorrow though and just try to avoid working too much. At least the doctor said I now have 20/20 vision, which is good. I’ll write more later.

The moving people are roaming around the office today. Huge stacks of boxes are being prepared as we get ready for the big move. It’s kind of cool. I am looking forward to the change of venue. Maybe it will be like changing jobs, without all of the hassle of finding another job. Perhaps they’ll even realize that a lot of sensitive documents cross my desk and put me in a relatively isolated spot where I won’t be so likely to inadverdantly leak secrets. One can hope.

Carl took Dean, Kay and I to one of his favorite teppenyaki places last night. We met up in the lavish lobby of the Grand Hyatt. Next door, the new Taipei Financial Center is making good progress. Already it towers over everything else in the area, even though it’s still got a long way to go. At least 75 stories, or perhaps 110 if the builders get their way. Sparks from the welders were cascading from it as I parked and walked over to meet Dean.

I don’t know why Carl arranged for us to meet at the Hyatt, because the restaurant he was taking us to is located in the Tonghua Night Market, several blocks away. I think Carl just has a habit of meeting people at the Hyatt. Maybe it makes him seem more glamourous or something.

The teppanyaki was good, and the chef was cute. I remarked on this to Carl, but he just looked at me over his glasses and said “You must be joking.” After dinner we walked over to the Watershed and had some drinks before going our seperate ways. Again, I didn’t have too much to say. Dean entertained us by talking about “ignatius rock” features in Australia.

Dave, who used used to work at the News and now works at a cushy job in Hong Kong, is in town, so we’re going to get together after I get out of sword practice for dinner and drinks. The last time Dave and I went out, when I was last in Hong Kong, I got amazingly drunk and had a great time. I can’t get too drunk this time, though, since I’m scheduled to have my eyes zapped tomorrow morning. I feel like going to a sauna.

I just have to say I love it when otherwise very feminine and demure Taiwanese women in our office shout out petulantly “Awwww SHIT!” in English when something goes wrong. These are women that cover their mouths to giggle in embarrassment when someone points out that their blouse doesn’t quite match their skirt. Since English is the Fashionable Language, it seems they feel that there is nothing they can say in it that won’t make them appear the Height of Sophistication as long as it’s in some semblance of English.

When I curse, be it in English (I’ve been known to utter such choice phrases as “Holy Jesus Fucking Christ!” on occasions that called for it, such as when my computer catches fire, as it tends to do several times a day) or Taiwanese (“Gan li nia e cha jiba mao!” is a phrase that will get you laughed at and then promptly beaten to death with tire irons. Let’s just say it has something to do with the insultee’s mother), at least I know it makes me look like a complete, betelnut-chewing hick.

I don’t chew betelnuts anymore, however. Bad for the gums, you know.

Last night after work I met up with Dean, Brian, Graham, Jaime and a girl whose name I’ve forgotten, over at My Other Place. Unfortunately, I wasn’t really in the right mood for the situation and didn’t contribute a hell of a lot to the conversation. I don’t know why it is, perhaps reading too much Oriented, but lately I feel like I can’t really communicate with most of the foreigners here in Taiwan. Although we speak the same language, it often feels like they must be living in some alternate dimension of reality. Don’t get me wrong, these are my friends and I enjoy their company. It’s just that lately I’ve been feeling a bit like I don’t quite fit in.

For my first several years here I didn’t actually have much at all to do with foreigners. In college in Taichung I took regular classes with the Chinese students in addition to Chinese language classes, but I didn’t really hang out with any of the foreigners there. After college I moved to Taipei after living in Hsinchu for a while, and the whole time I worked at jobs that didn’t have anything to do with foreigners or English. The only foreigners I knew were Boogie and Mindcrime, both of whom have been really cool people and good friends to me for a really long time (Boogie is still here, actually, although I don’t see him very often these days).

The first time Mindcrime took me down to the “Combat Zone”, I was shocked. Here, right in the middle of Taipei, was an area full of drunken foreign businessmen, older guys with suits covering ample paunches, flirting with Taiwanese bargirls in dozens of questionably named drinking establishments. It was (and still is) a relic of the US military presence from decades past, but I had lived in Taipei for years without ever having come across it.

It was really only after I started working for the newspaper, which was my first office/desk job as well as the first time I had really worked in a “foreign” environment, that I began making foreign friends in considerable numbers. At the time, when I began making a few inroads into the expatriate community here, people tended to be surprised that I had been here so long without them hearing about me or meeting me. It seemed that all the foreigners knew each other already, and to them it seemed that I had just popped out of the woodwork. To me it was a rather novel experience to have so many foreign friends.

But the world of expatriates in Taiwan is a small one, not just in size but in outlook, and it also seems segregated to an uncomfortable degree from the rest of Taiwan, the real Taiwan, the Taiwan that is, to me at least, really worth experiencing. Going back and forth between the two worlds is a difficult balancing act to carry out, and I guess I haven’t been doing such a great job lately. A lot of that is the fact that I’ve been too busy working on my book to get the hell out of dodge for a while. My recent trip back to Miaoli was a bit of a slap in the face in that respect, a sharp reminder that there is more to Taiwan than Taipei.

This isn’t, as some would suggest, about “going native” or some crap like that (If anything I feel like I’ve been “going foreign” over the past few years rather than the opposite). Rather, it’s about being true to oneself and following one’s natural instincts, getting to know oneself and being able to identify and manage the myriad parts of one’s own personality. It’s so easy to get lost, particularly when you’re out there all by yourself. After all these years I’m still learning how to zuo ren, literally “to be a person.” I guess it’s a life-long process.

I was walking around the Shi-da area looking for sunglasses last night when I ran into Kirk, who was let go from his job at Oracle just a couple of days ago. Now he’s looking for work during the day and going to college at night. We found a little hole-in-the-wall teahouse we’d never been to and chatted over steaming pots of fragrant leaves, accompanied by cinnamon pop-tarts. Kirk really likes to talk about his remaining cat. He originally had two, but one of the escaped when he took them to get fixed. The remaining cat is always doing all sorts of cute things, and it really makes me want to get a cat, but I’m afraid I’ll have to wait until I move somewhere more suitable for raising cats, and who knows when that will happen.

At the teashop we talked about feeling lonely around Chinese New Years, and I admitted that even though I enjoy being single I still sometimes wish I could have someone to hook up with now and then. I haven’t been out looking lately either. The Source is just more of the expatriate community, sort of like a little two-room Combat Zone, but Funky isn’t half bad, and there are some newer places to go as well. Again, I’ve been too busy with my book to be able to rationalize spending my weekends in such a fashion. Hopefully I’ll have more time after it’s done and published, hopefully within a few months’ time.

Several people have complimented my jacket, which is a bright yellow/red/black Tommy Hilfiger ski jacket with an ROC flag sewn on the back. The reason the flag is there is because I didn’t like the original Tommy Hilfiger banner, and I was afraid it wouldn’t wash, so I took it off. My friend Clar said I could sell the rubber flag on the black market or something, actually, but I just didn’t like it on the back of my jacket. It looked really bad without the banner, though, so I took the ROC flag patch I had laying around and sewed it on. The colors go together quite nicely, but there’s always the possibility I will come across a flag-hating cabbie who has no qualms about using his vehicle as a weapon. Then again, if the dude who drives around town with two flags, one PRC and one Soviet, stuck in his car as he blares the PRC national anthem can survive after all this time, my chances can’t be that bad.

Steve is back in town, or he will be soon. He’ll be in Tainan with his wife at first, but hopefully either he’ll get up to Taipei or I will get down there at some point soon.