On Sunday I went to the Estrogen Mall with Mindcrime, HG Janice and Dean to see The Bourne Identity, which I liked although I think they could have chosen a better actor than Ben Affleck’s boyfriend Matt, who looked like a lost child for most of the picture. We did have tasty mango treats at the Xuliufeng place beforehand, though, and after the movie we walked out of the mall to find one of my favorite Taiwanese singers, Zhang Zhen-yue, singing on the sidewalk. They might have been filming it for a music video or something, but I still think it’s cool he would do that. You’d never see Coco Lee without her huge entourage out on a sidewalk somewhere strumming a guitar and sweating in the heat. Shit, you’d never see Coco Lee doing anything original. Can you tell I don’t have the best impression of Coco Lee? I learned what a bitch she is when we interviewed her at TVBS a few years back. What a primadonna. Zhang Zhen-yue, by contrast, came in for his interview all by himself, and the extent of his make-up session was him glancing at himself in the mirror and adjusting his baseball cap.

I also spent a bit of time last weekend cleaning out my kitchen and bathroom, arranging things here and there, etc. I have yet to experience the kind of cooking smoke I did that last time when I was visiting the place; perhaps it’s rarer than I assumed it was. I’m wondering if I do really need an entire kitchen, however. I thought it would be nice, but to be honest, I really don’t know how to cook, and eating out cheaply in Taiwan is so convenient I wonder if it’s a bit much for someone like me to have a whole kitchen. Perhaps I will learn someday, but I doubt it. After long days walking around, a habit living really close to the MRT seems to encourage, climbing up to the 5th floor makes my old knee injury ache a bit. Hopefully it’s nothing to worry about. The room itself is quite nice. Next steps: adsl, possibly TV/cable and a cat.

Speaking of cooking, yesterday at lunch I was walking around the area where I now work when I came across a nice-looking cafe called the Cityskyscape or something similarly inane that should have been sufficient to warn me away had I not been too hungry to notice. I ordered a chicken sandwich and went to sit in the wood-panelled dining area. Spffy interior. I soon became aware however that the room was also occupied by a group of this city’s most pretentious people, two Taiwanese and one American girl of Chinese descent. They went on and on about the inconveniences of shopping for million-dollar houses in New York City. The ABC girl was throwing in a lot of English to impress her Taiwanese friends, but after she noticed me in the room she obviously felt that her efforts were best spent speaking accented Mandarin really loudly. I could tell she felt really conflicted about it, no doubt wondering if she was impressing us all equally.

I was grateful when my meal arrived, but only until I took a bite. On my way out, I told the woman at the cash register, “You realize that a sandwich is sort of a contract with the consumer, right? It’s a promise that ‘everything in between the bread is edible, i.e. chewable and swallowable without the aid of external forces like a fork, knife, or hay-thrashing machine’. Your sandwich broke that contract. If I were you I might want to rethink how I slice my chicken and next time leave out the huge bones, etc. from the formula.”

I think she took it rather well, all things considered. I’m sure the cursing I heard as I left was merely some old people in a nearby apartment playing a lively game of mah-jong.

As for my new job, it’s been rather uneventful. Everyone has been quite nice. The people who work there are not nearly as pretentious and full of themselves as some other places I could name, although my working environment is a bit drab in comparison, being a typical office, and a government office at that. The trappings may be modern, but Chinese bureaucratic culture goes back for millennia. My computer, for example, is an early Qing Dynasty Pentium 133, if you can imagine. It’s fine for editing documents, but when it comes across, say, a Yahoo! page it just throws its mouse in the air and sighs heavily. Whever I try to access a java site it screams “Lordy!” Luckily for me Blogger doesn’t give it much trouble, and without Internet at home yet it’s the only connection available to me.

Well, this is it: My last day at Ogilvy, where I’ve worked for the last two years. It doesn’t feel like I’ve done a whole hell of a lot during my time here, but it’s not like I was expecting this job to go places. It was a pleasant alternative to the newspaper where I worked before, and I have had some interesting times here. For the most part, however, the most appropriate phrase to sum up my time here is Groucho Marx’s “I’ve had a wonderful time, but this wasn’t it.” I think Shauna knows what I’m talking about here.

Yesterday one of the Vampires yelled out to everyone in the office “Does anyone know how to use this OSX thingamajimmy?” It turns out that she is now the proud owner of a brand-new Titanium Powerbook. We all gathered around to ooh and aah at it, but the Vampire didn’t know anything about the Mac she’d just spent 85k on. She didn’t know the processor speed, the memory, or anything. She did exclaim, “Look at the bouncing icons!” however. Maybe she’ll end up composing brilliant advertising campaigns on it as she sits in trendy coffeeshops munching on bagels. And maybe someday I’ll be able to afford one of those things. Which is more likely? Well, at least I’m saving up.

There happens to be a company happy hour tonight at a Korean barbeque place on Zhongxiao E. Rd after work. Since I’ve already paid for it, I plan to go. All I have to do now is erase all traces of my presence on this computer, stick Office Turtle in a box, and (for real this time) just walk out the door. Next week I’ll be at the job more or less full time.

I’ve also begun to unpack a few things, put up some posters, hook up my computer, etc. at the Chungking Mansions. It’s seeming nicer as I get used to it, and I really do appreciate the convenience of the location and having my own private apartment without having to deal with roommates or other people at all. It’s my goal to create a surprising oasis of comfort in the midst of apparent squalor. The building itself is interesting enough to put up a webpage about, something I will work on after I get my adsl hooked up again sometime next week. For example, last night as I was coming home I saw an old woman burning a huge amount of ghost money in a pot, creating quite a bonfire effect.

In the hallway.

On the second floor.

I know that this is common practice, but I still think I should get a rope ladder and put it next to my window, just in case.

Last night after work I helped the air conditioner guy fashion a place for the air conditioner and then lift the thing into its spot. At first it made a horrible noise which sounded like a helicopter landing on the roof, but the guy wedged some wood in the frame to stop it. I then went out for dinner at My Other Place with Mindcrime, but a group of people I suspect were all members of the same fraternity pretty much ruined the atmosphere, so I had to return to my new home and face the inevitable: The First Night. I cleaned up the mess from the construction and spread out some more roach traps to make sure the kitchen is as roach-free as possible before I start using it, took a shower and got ready for bed. For some reason I was nervous about sleeping there and lay awake for a while listening to the radio. I suppose part of it stems from the same place as my unwillingness to unpack: I’m still not 100% sure I want to stay there for the long haul. My mind, conditioned by the constant moving my family went through during my childhood, kept telling me there must be something better out there, something just as cheap, but with an elevator.

In spite of my misgivings, I slept surprisingly well, waking up refreshed and comfortable without recalling any sensations of roaches crawling across my face in the night. The combination of sealant and the air conditioning seem to work to keep the cooking smoke out of the place, and the quiet privacy of the place is reassuring. One good thing about it is that the windows face west, instead of the east-facing windows I had before, which cause the rising sun to interrupt particularly lavish REM cycles. Now I just get that general lightening effect, which works much better. I suppose the place just might be ok after all.

I went back to my old place on Da-an Park last night after work. The room was practically empty; I just had a few things left there. I took a nice, long shower in the big bathroom and lay on the bed in the air conditioning. It felt good. Too soon the new tennant called and said she was downstairs. She was accompanied by a large American fellow who said he wasn’t moving in with her, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t end up spending a lot of time appreciating the view. My view, dammit. Oh, well.

I gathered up the last of my things, turned the keys over to her, and left, passing some toys I had bought for the repair shop owner’s kid to the old veteran who sits downstairs. I walked through the park, with all of its twilight revelry, and over to the new place through alleys lined by the apartments of the super-rich, picture windows illuminated by spot lighting and the glow of huge flat-screen TVs. I didn’t feel like staying in the new place, so I met up with Mindcrime and Dean for Lei-cha and fried tofu at a place on Civic Blvd. The decor was as traditional as the items on the menu. Lots of wood carving. Good tea, fun conversation.

Afterwards, I again didn’t feel like sleeping in the new place without any A/C, so I took the MRT over to a sauna in the West Gate District, a place I happen to have a lot of coupons for, to spend the night. I luxuriated in the big pools of water and strong massage showers, then retired to a bare room for the night. It’s been ages since I’ve been to that sauna, or indeed any sauna. Getting up in the morning, washing and soaking all over again, and then walking into the fresh morning sunshine recalled similar experiences from years and years ago, back when I would often spend nights at saunas. Taking the MRT to work was simple and quick.

This afternoon the AC guy came over to the new place to take measurements for re-installing the air conditioner. The landlord was there, but the AC guy was late. He fiddled around with the window while I tried to plug all the holes in the walls of the kitchen and bathroom with sealant. Then, as he was still working, I scattered roach motels all over the place, practicing my Taiwanese with him as I did so. It was past 3 by the time I got back to work, my hands covered in sealant goo, but nobody seemed to notice that or my tardiness. Hopefully the air conditioning situation will be sorted out this evening so I can start sleeping in the place. Otherwise, well, I’ve still got several sauna coupons. I have no idea how this goo is supposed to come off, though. Maybe I should get some turpentine. At least it might be able to overpower the cooking smells.

It took Stephen the Mover and his two helpers about half an hour to move all of the boxes and other detrius from my old place to my new one, using only one of their three little blue trucks. To my knowledge, nothing was broken, and the cost of the move was exactly the difference between my old rent and my new rent. In other words, it went well. I didn’t sleep at the Chungking Mansions because yesterday was listed as a “Don’t Move” day according to the Chinese almanac, and also the A/C hasn’t been installed yet. I have to go pick up the last few things from my old place and hand over the keys to the whiny NTU girl who is moving in. My roommates are all set to start cringing at the sound of her false-childlike voice complaining about how I didn’t leave the room clean enough, etc.

The new place is actually nice and quiet, a decent size, and sunny. A bit of cooking smoke crept in yesterday as I was moving, but hopefully with the help of the air conditioner and perhaps a seperate air filter, that should be easy to deal with. I also need to buy some lysol, clorox and several dozen roach motels. The turtles and their bowl are on the grating outside the window along with two of my lesser plants. The place is littered with girly pink pillows and half-empty bottles of nail coloring. Ugh. The place has promise, though, and it is nice being so close to an MTR station, with basically a sheltered walkway leading to it. I think I can make it a livable abode, as long as there’s conditioned air available. I don’t know what the status of the broadband access is there, so I am doing everything from work for now.

Is there an end to the Funk of all Funks in sight? Perhaps. Stay tuned.

I’m so not in the mood for packing. I’d much rather curl up somewhere and disappear for an indefinite period of time. But pack I must, as rich-NTU girl is coming to take over my room on Monday. Since the Beitou place didn’t work out I might have a chance at other places, but for now I have the Chungking Mansions. It should do for now. I’ll just have to disappear later. I just don’t feel like packing everything I own into a bunch of boxes.

Dean, Gavin, et al are planning meet at (surprise!) Q-bar yet again tonight. I will go deliver the scripts I printed out, but I don’t suppose I’ll feel much like hanging around. Sometimes I feel a bit amphibious, going back and forth between the expat ocean and Taiwanese terra firma. I don’t know how long I can last in either before wanting to go find a cave somewhere and become a hermit, one of those old guys who resolutely alienates everyone around him, and yet gets extremely lonely and bitter when said people spurn his company in return. The only thing I lack is the ‘old’ bit, but that’s coming along nicely, thank you very much.

Today is my last day at my old job. They haven’t come to me with any people to evaluate for my position, or anything at all. To tell the truth, I’m past caring about it. I gave notice, provided a replacement, and worked an extra week when they couldn’t find a replacement. It’s up to them at this point. I’ve got other things to do. All that’s left for me here is to erase all of the favorites, Internet history, etc. from the computer, turn in my badge and gun, pack up Office Turtle and a few other things in my backpack, and walk out the door.

With regards to TM, I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. I should be happy with my present situation. I am just in a funk these days, and this one seems to be one of the more durable ones, probably aided by external factors. I should be coming out of it sooner or later, probably after I settle in and realize that there’s some sort of semi-soft landing area below the cliff I’m jumping off. Or perhaps a helicopter full of bad guys with shiny black weapons. Maybe I’ll just keep the gun.

Update:

At the last moment, my boss called and told me that they still hadn’t had time to find me a replacement, so could I possibly work another week?

I’m definitely keeping the gun.

I just haven’t been feeling like myself lately. That’s probably a good thing. Another good thing is that I don’t feel quite as bad as I have for the past few days. Working two jobs isn’t much fun, but tomorrow is supposedly my last day at Ogilvy. I don’t know whether they’ve found someone to replace me. I doubt they will have an easy time trying to pursuade someone else to do the job for such a low salary. I will miss a lot of people there, as well as the familiarity of the place.

The new job is a bit nerve-racking because it’s such a different environment. It’s almost like the first day at a new school, where everyone is a potentially threatening Senior and the lockers need a coat of paint. I’ve been doing nothing but translation so far, and although I’ve never done professional translation before, I’m told that I’m better and faster than my predecessor. Perhaps they’re being polite, because the person whose place I took, who had a PhD, made more money. In any case, it hasn’t been a complete disaster and might just turn out ok once I get used to it.

The Move is looming, but it might be followed by another not long after. Stephen the Mover is coming to Move me on Sunday, presumably to the Chungking Mansions Taipei, unless I get a lead on someplace better before then. I thought I had found a good deal in Beitou, but then I discovered that when the wind came from a certain direction, the place was flooded with the smell from the Macdonald’s downstairs. Damn. I suppose there’s not much I can do at this point, however. The rich NTU girl who is moving into my present abode called me the other day. She wanted to move in early, and she used her whiny girly voice to try to persuade me. Needless to say, it didn’t gain her any points with me.

So, the new job, the new place, etc., have gotten me into a strange mood. Maybe it’s the heat exhaustion talking, but I just don’t seem to care much about anything these days. A “general Malaise” as the doctor at Taiwan Adventist Hospital typed into his file on me. He gave me some generic medicine and sent me on my morose, shuffling way. Perhaps this is just my mental state shifting gears.

Everything’s up in the air these days. I don’t feel like going into too much detail as I’m not feeling too well. Think I might have overdone a little hike I did on Sunday after brunch. I must have walked ten miles or more, and I probably didn’t drink enough liquids. Hopefully a little rest will get me back on track. I’ll write more later when I know more what’s going on. It’s rather complicated.

I’ve been working at the new place and the old place for two days so far this week. It’s not too difficult, but the contrast is striking. I’ll be glad to just have one place to go to. The new job involves a lot of translation, and so far everyone’s been really nice to me. The computer there is rather old and can’t handle any chat programs or the like, so I will probably be online a bit less in the future.

I think I’m just going to go home and sleep now. Maybe some light soup and a couple of Simpsons episodes later.

Change of plans: Since my company can’t seem to get its act together and decide on my replacement (even though I practically gave them one as long as two weeks ago), I am going to stay on for part-time work next week, working here when I am not busy working at my new job. It will be hectic, but I could also use the extra cash. Today is still officially my last day, which feels strange, but not as strange as if I were leaving after work today and not coming back.

I’ve also decided to postpone my move until next weekend. I don’t have to be out of my present place until the 20th (someone’s already managed to snag the place, a rich NTU girl, actually). To be honest I haven’t packed a single thing yet, so I will pick up the keys early this Sunday morning, move a few things over by myself over the week and then have Stephen the Mover do all of the heavy lifting for me next Sunday. It will also give the landlord a chance to re-install the air conditioner (or realize that said air conditioner has rusted itself into uselessness) and me a chance to tranfer my adsl account over to the new address.

Both of the above measures should serve to somewhat cushion the shock of a new place and a new job at the same time by introducing a transition period for both. I apologize if The Big Move has caused any deterioration in the quality of this journal. Transitions are difficult but exciting, like shedding one’s old skin and moving on to places that only let the newly-reskinned in, so to speak. It’s just that the middle bit where you’re running around outside nekkid can be a bit harrowing if you are not in the habit of frequenting health clubs. I realize that it’s not like I’m giving up everything and moving to Sicily (Although who knows? That could be my next trick), but it’s an important step for me. As usual, the aspects of my life that I am leaving, the safe, known environments of office and home, seem unnaturally attractive, but I’ve done enough of this to know that this is a false feeling introduced by my cowardly subconscious. Onward to the Cooking Smells! is my rallying cry.

My motorcycle is getting a free washing courtesy of a sudden rainstorm this afternoon. Looks like I’ll be walking home tonight, which kind of sucks as I was planning to take a lot of my office shit home with me today, saving the last bit of detrius and Office Turtle for tomorrow. It’s very quiet at work; all of my cubicle-mates are off at a meeting somewhere. Not a lot of people know I’m leaving soon. It feels so strange to be leaving this job, even though I’m glad to be moving on. I suppose I’ve become over-used to the lack of challenge it presents. The only difference with the new job is the amount of time I usually spend at work rather than the work itself. Hopefully this will translate to more development in other, more interesting areas. Blah, blah, blah, I know: You’ll believe that when you see it. Fair enough.

I deposited the pittance that is my book advance in the Land Bank account this morning. The Chungking Mansions Taipei (other potential name: “Pulp Mansions”) is located in front of a nice old neighborhood with really old two-story apartment buildings and lots of trees. Should be nice for walking around outside while the cooking smoke clears from the corridor. I need to find boxes to pack things in soon, especially as Stephen the Mover needs to come over and assess the situation, what kind of resources he needs to pull it off, etc.

Mindcrime called me last night to warn me about Dengue Fever, cases of which have been popping up near the park, apparently. I guess it’s all the stagnant water and over-eager mosquitoes trying to make up for lost business during the Great Drought of ’02. Makes me feel marginally better about moving away from the park, it does, but I am still going to really miss my view. As Dean, Mindcrime and Rowan were at Q-bar downtown celebrating the book advance, Steve called to give us an update on his own recent move to an old house in Tainan. I expect open-house-warming season will begin soon, and we shall have to pry Dean away from his incapsuled life in Taipei to show him a bit of the rest of the island. I myself am looking forward to doing a bit of travelling around when I get more time to do so with my new job. Getting an English-language publisher for the Damn Book, getting a start on the next one, and writing scripts for short films all take priority, however. I’ll probably end up mixing it all up; I usually do.