A Not So Busy Day

Met up with the sister-in-law for lunch (I am still not used to thinking in these terms) and then went down with the Wife to check out her booths for the exhibit and then hang out with the GameAxis guys.

Played games. Hung out with Wife.

That is all.

Leaky Air Conditioners, Ikea & Bad Instructional Videos

A Saturday of mixed feelings.

Yesterday, for no apparent reason, our the air conditioner in our new bedroom started to leak. We called up the property agent who also acts as Landlord for the owners of this apartment, and told him about it, and he said he’d send some people down the next day to fix it. Today, they came in and they fixed it. Sort of. The leak in the air conditioner does not come from the air conditioner itself, but from a pipe that runs along the wall. They banged on the pipes, put in some sealent and promptly said it was fixed and left. Fifteen minutes later, TWO leaks sprung up from the pipe, both worse than ever, and when the agent was informed, he said he’d take care of it on Monday. Hopefully this won’t create four leaks and flood the apartment.

We also went to Ikea to pick up a few knick knacks.

I am surprised to report that Ikea is THE place to go on a Saturday night. We thought we’d just show up, get a shoe rack, a new end table, maybe some shower curtains, and have a quick dinner in the Ikea cafeteria. When we showed up, it seemed like half of Singapore had had exactly the same idea. The cafeteria itself was so packed it took us fifteen minutes to find some free seats, and after that we wandered through the tidal wave of humanity that were sitting on sofas, looking at the jointwork on coffee tables, running hands across the fabric of throw rugs, and lining up at the cashier counters to be billed by very gay cashiers.

I had no idea that Ikea was such a hip place to be.

We also checked out the awful video I had to put together for the Wife’s Illustration exhibit. Well, I didn’t put it together. I only wrote the script, oversaw the video shoot, conducted the interviews, and sat in on the edit for a few hours and picked out the content that was to be presented. The music, cut-aways and graphics were put together by a couple of guys with a small video company called Video Forge. For a nearly non-existent budget, we managed to pull something informative together. Good? No. Educational, maybe.

Back to transcribing and gaming…

That Thing On Battlestar Galactica

If you’re a journalist, you’ll really wish we had this thing.

For anyone that remembers the original Battlestar Galactica series in the 70′s, there were occasions when Commander Adama would make log entries. He would speak into a microphone and his words would be instantly transcribed on the screen in front of him.

Man, I really wish I had something like that now.

It’s kind of a catch 22, really. You want a good interview, so you let the guy you’re interviewing ramble to his heart’s content. However you pay for it later when it comes time to transcribe the interview.

I had two interviews yesterday with two fairly articulate nerds. Robert Krakoff and Jay Wilson, both in the gaming industry. As a result, their questions are long, detailed and take up a lot of tape space on the ol’ microcassette recorder. Until Adama’s gizmo gets invented, the only safe way to get this stuff out is to go through the laborious process of play back, listen, type out, rewind, repeat.

It is incredibly annoying.

Still the answers are good, so it’s worth it.

Up Waaaaaaaay Too Late

The Wife is asleep, as she should be, but then it’s after four in the morning.

Things I managed to do today:

Everything I set out to do.

I got my passport stamped, I’m good for two more weeks. Now I just have to get that medical check up.

I went down to the WCG and had a surprisingly good time. Who have thought listening to a couple of nerds talking about another couple of nerds playing against each other in Starcraft Broodwar could actually get exciting?

I also interviewed Robert Krakow the president of Razer (Took a while, his schedule was haywire) as well as Jay Wilson of Relic (Which also took a while for similar reasons) and then I helped the Wife out with more last minute writing related stuff for her exhibition and that lasted until two am, and THEN I went home and finally got around to writing a GameAxis article based on the day’s events, as well as a script that I needed to tweak for Nanoboy.

A full day. I am beat.

And now if you will excuse me, it’s to bed with me…

Bureaucracy Strikes Again

Sadly, the renewal of the passport did not go as smoothly as I’d hoped.

Going down to see good ol’ MoM, I explained that I didn’t have a medical report, and so, since my employment had expired, BUT I had received a letter saying that the renewal had been approved pending the submission of the approval letter with a medical report, could they kindly just extend my visa for another two weeks until I get the results in.

Unfortunately I think I got stuck with one of those cranky old lady bureaucrats. You know the one. Sour, dour face, lips pursed permanently in a frown, glasses throwing up a thin layer of protection between you and some beady, suspicious eyes, and eyebrows permanently turned downwards as if someone had drawn them that way. I got nagged about not having gotten the medical exam done over the last couple of weeks, but as anyone who reads this blog regularly knows, time is not something I’ve had a lot of in the last little while. Things will probably start to slow down somewhat next week, but in the meantime the business continues.

I’m going to have go in in the morning with a letter typed up from my company explaining that the results are not yet in, and please give the poor guy a break and stamp his damn passport. After that, I’ve got to go down and check out the World Cyber Games for a couple of hours, take in the ambience to write a piece on it, as well as interview Robert Krakoff of Razer, the guys that make professional level mice and other peripherals, but the interview with the Relic lead designer is canned on account of the fact that no one can find him. I don’t know, I don’t want to know…

Anyway, more articles and scripts to write. It never ends…

Yet Another Busy Week

The good news is, Zero has settled down, and it looks like his freaky meowing was a one-time thing.

The bad news is this week is remarkably busy. Again.

There’s a bunch of articles due in the last half of the week, but I think I can make my deadlines on all of them. There’s also a couple of interviews that are going to be conducted on Thursday with some of the heavyweights in gaming that are coming in for the World Cyber Games finals being held here, namely a designer from Relic (Creators of Homeworld! Whoo!) and Razer (The guys that make mice and other peripherals for gamers). There’s also a third draft of a script due on Friday, not to mention some treatments that need to be started on.

There’s also the little matter of going into the Ministry of Manpower (Or MoM as it is affectionately–or not–known by) to get my passport stamped since I just didn’t have time to go and get a medical check up which is required this time around for the renewal of my employment pass. Add onto that that I have to wait for some people to come in and repair an air conditioner that isn’t working at the new apartment, and that we still have to get rid of furniture at the old apartment, AND that the video that I was overseeing on Sunday and was told probably wouldn’t need anyone sitting in for the edit has, unsurprisingly, developed to the point where they now think that they need someone sitting in on the edit, and you have a pretty busy week.

So much for starting on that new novel. Back to my articles…

Must… Not… Kill… Cat…

So far this move has proven to be the single most traumatic event in my cat’s–his name is Zero–life.

Maybe a little refresher is in order. I picked up Zero for myself back in December of 1999 when I finally got my first apartment that I didn’t have to share with anyone. I’d always told myself that I would get a cat the second it was feasible, and that year proved to be it. Zero was actually a gift from my friend James. He knew that I liked cats, and went down to the SPCA and looked them over, and there was Zero, this very pretty looking half street-half Siamese cat with silvery/white fur, stripes, and blue eyes. He looked for all the world like a miniature white tiger. He also had a stumpy, bent tail. James told me about the cool looking cat he’d seen, and I went down to check it out.

Zero, at the time was sleeping in the cage, and, like most cats, seemed totally oblivious to the world. When I was told his tail damage was actually the result of abuse from his former owners, there was no turning back, I had to have this cat. I brought him home and he promptly spent the first three days hiding under the dresser. The laid back cat at the SPCA turned out to be afraid of EVERYTHING. Not that I minded then, or now. I get a perverse kick out of the fact that he’s so discriminating. It’s kind of nice to think that out of all the people in the world, only me and the Wife are the creatures Zero actually likes.

He does not adjust well to change.

He proved that last night. God knows why, but for some reason as soon as we went to bed, for the first time ever, he started meowing like crazy. He walked up to the door, meowed, walked away, still meowing, and then would be silent just long enough for sleep to slowly settle in, then he would start up again. At one point I went out to see what was up. He stopped meowing as I played with him a little. When I went back in, the meowing started up again. I seriously contemplated sleeping on the couch just so that he would shut up, but the Wife would have none of it.

I’m telling myself that his sudden, bizarre behavior is a direct result of the stress from the move. He’s not the clingy sort of cat, he doesn’t need to be played with or cuddled, but he does need to SEE us. I don’t know why, but even though he’s not a big fan of actually being touched, it’s very important that he be able to see me or the Wife whenever he wants to be reassured. When he doesn’t get it now, he meows.

For the first time ever, I actually found myself wanting to throttle my own cat. I have these fantasies where all I see is a long shot of our apartment building, and then the tiny silhouette of a cat comes careening out the window, screaming “MEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!” all the way down.

Granted, it is the stress of the move, I’m sure, but I am fervently hoping this isn’t some new permanent behavior trait that he’s acquired. Otherwise we’ll never sleep again. Unless we let him sleep with us. Except that he doesn’t sleep at night…

First Post From Home #2

We are moved.

Total casualties are:

1 shredded table lamp

2 wrecked freestanding lamps

1 dropped computer tower

1 dropped lightbox

1 traumatized cat

The new apartment is incredibly cozy. Maybe the last one was actually a little too big for a couple (To be fair, it was a three bedroom place, intended for a family) whereas this one feels just right for either a couple or a single occupant. There was also a wedding that had to be attended on Saturday (Congratulations to Eugene and Valerie. Last time I checked, he didn’t feel married either), and that had me going by myself while the Wife attended to things back home, at which point we finally got around to moving the cats. Uno took it pretty much the way we expected;mildly inconvenienced, but almost entirely nonplussed after the entire affair whereas Zero put up a mighty struggle not to leave (There was a five minute chase around our empty apartment that ended when we finally cornered him and stuffed him into the carrier) and then promptly hid under the couch at the new place where he remains even as I write. He comes out to explore for a few minutes, then promptly hides again. Stupid cat.

Today, that being Sunday, there was still no rest. I had to direct a shoot for the Wife’s exhibition. There is an organization called Design Singapore that is putting out the call to prove that graphic design in Singapore is not incidental, and that the people here can make real contributions. They failed in spectacular fashion to realize that Illustrators fall into this category, and until the Wife pointed it out to them, had made no provisions to cover them. They are now letting her run an exhibit on Illustrators–which entails throwing money her way to make a snazzy exhibition booth, complete with touch screens and projections on the wall–but at the last minute they decided they needed a video as well. Unfortunately, being married to her, familiar with the project, and having experience in writing and producing for television and video, I ended up being the logical choice.

So I spent today interviewing four artists, one of which was the Wife, and got their thoughts on the process of illustration and how they approached it.

I have also just cleaned three years worth of scum off our television screen. The Wife tells me that this is the direct result of my smoking, and speculates my lungs aren’t in much better shape.

Oh well, back to work…

Okay, So That Didn’t Work…

Annnnnnnnd… I’M NOT MOVED!

What ended up happening is the movers were scheduled to show up for the move at 5. We dutifully packed everything up, said our goodbyes to our home and patiently waited for them. Around 5, they didn’t show up. Around 6, they didn’t show up. Around 7, they still hadn’t shown up.

Calls to the movers brought in comments like “The car broke down.” and “We’re on the way.”

When they finally arrived, the sun was setting. This was a problem because the apartment we’re moving into has no elevator, and the lights in the stairway are currently kaput, meaning the movers would have try and carry all the stuff up three flights of stairs in the dark.

When we explained the situation to them, unsurprisingly, they said, “We can’t do that.”

Which is why, it was explained, they were asked to show up at five pm, so that this could be avoided.

They replied, “But we were caught up at another job. See, you shouldn’t have called us on the day, you should have asked earlier.”

It was pointed out that the appointment had been made a week ago.

The mover seemed unaware of this. Trying to fall back and regain some dignity, he pointed out that the enormous number of things we had went way beyond the capacity of their truck anyway, and that we should have had them come in for an estimate.

It was pointed out to them that when their boss was asked if he would like to come down for an estimate, he gave the standard local response, “No need, no need.”

The mover seemed doubly unaware of this.

So now we are moving on Saturday morning, 8 am, and I still have to try and make a wedding of a friend during the day.

I suspect that somewhere today, some angry movers went to their boss and yelled at him or her for making promises to customers they were wholly incapable of honoring. That seems to be standard practice for a lot enterprises in Singapore; promise the moon first, THEN start worrying about whether you have a rocket once it’s too late. The eagerness to make money here tends to overwhelm common sensical notions like, “Can I actually deliver on what I just promised?”

I hate moving. I really, really do…

The Last Post From Home #1

Internet connection won’t get up and running at the new place until Saturday, and even then I’m not sure if I’ll have dug the computer out by then to hook it up, so…

I’m too nostalgic. The Wife tells me this all the time. Like tonight, the majority of the packing got done, leaving just some stuff from the bedroom, kitchen and a few odds and ends like power bars, posters and knick knacks here and there. There is a truly impressive pile of boxes in the middle of our apartment.

It was a good apartment.

This is the first apartment we rented together. The first time I ever lived with someone who wasn’t a room-mate I only saw on occasion. We decorated this place, got things like our first rug here, rescued our second cat and kept her, rescued many kittens. I wrote novels and scripts here, she made art here. We used to walk around this neighborhood late at night scavenging for food from 24 hour hawker centers or, more recently, the McDonald’s that went 24 hours.

I know life goes on, and that things will most likely get better. Change is inevitable, and hell, we’re going to be relocating to Canada in several months anyway…

But this was still our first place. It’s where our life started together. We walked into this apartment as a hopeful boyfriend and girlfriend, lived in it as fiances and now we’re leaving it as husband and wife. I keep thinking in some gentle way, maybe some psychic residue of that life has been worked into the fabric of the walls, the floor. Definitely the cigarette smoke anyway. I’m smoking a last one here. The Wife let me get a pack since the move is so stressful anyway, and she didn’t see the harm in indulging it, I behave myself the rest of the time.

I’m not going to weep dramatically or anything. There’s an emotion there, but nothing that over the top. I just keep thinking to myself, “This is where our life together started, and now we’re leaving it.”

It was a good apartment for two psychotic artsey types to just be that with each other.

I’m going to miss it.