Breaking Internet Silence

Yep, I’ve been more or less Online-Incommunicado for 11 days. The reason is the boring one; once The Wife arrived, I moved from the Old Friend’s pad to a little bed n’ breakfast (I’m still amazed that after putting up with me for nearly a week, we’re still friends) which claimed to have a wireless internet connection. While it’s true that the place does indeed have a wireless network, the wireless modem on this ol’ laptop I’m still using was unable to connect.

Which means, of course, that this post is now being made from the New Digs.

So here’s what’s been happening in the meantime.

The Wife arrived safe and sound. Much to everyone’s surprise, especially hers, she didn’t immediately die upon stepping out of the Pearson International airport into the wintery white of Ontario. We checked into said B & B, thus causing said internet outage, and spent the last few days doing stuff like getting Social Insurance Cards (her first, mine lost since the Clinton administration and needing a replacement) and then checking out potential apartments that she’d sussed out online.

That did not go so great.

The old adage once again prevailed, about things looking better in pictures than they do in real life. The apartments ranged from either downright appalling to bizzarly Lynch-ean in aspect. A few were just in bad neighborhoods with genuine crack whores hanging around outside the doors while others were inhabited by strange cowboys surrounded by lace and Hindi decor.

However, while wandering around in the neighborhoods around the B & B, we found a few nice looking old houses that had “For Rent” signs outside the doors. One of those ended up having an entire second floor, complete with old fashioned water radiators for heating and bay windows. The neighbors on the first floor were incredibly friendly, cool people, and the landlord actually bent over backwards to accomodate the fact that we were basically immigrants with no credit record or any of the usual references from previous landlords that seems to be de rigeur for Toronto rentals.

We also checked out some of the other areas such as Bloor (which is in walking distance, we’ve got a pad in the Annex area of Toronto. Go us!), downtown with Eaton Center, and we’re slowly putting things back together. A quick trip to Ikea got us our cheap, standard issue Insta-Home, and there are still a few boxes waiting to be opened and assembled. The Wife has her studio slowly coming to life with a drafting table, and I totally lucked out on a decent Hi-Def TV. Thanks to the magic of Craigslist, we found someone selling a never-out-of-the-box Samsung 30 inch CRT flatscreen for $625. He had some kind of deal going with the distributors where he took damaged goods off their hands and in this case, damaged goods meant the box, NOT the TV, had gotten banged up during shipment. So I’ve got my first HD TV, and even though it doesn’t go all the way up to 1080p (only 720p and 1080i) it’s still a hell of a lot better than what I was initially expecting (which was more like a crap, used 20 inch CRT) and I’m seriously contemplating getting some HD cables for the ol’ PS2. I also got a new cellular phone and unfortunately, it’s pretty fancy, despite the fact that was trying to get the cheapest phone with the fewest functions when we signed on for our subscription plan. The screens are in color and it has camera and video playback, a far cry from my old monocrhome Nokia who’s single greatest feature was that it had flashlight built in.

I also think that perhaps my body is slowly regaining its Edmonton constitution. The first few days were a shock, and the cold was almost like a physical blow, today however, even just helping the delivery man bring in the futon sofa, I was able to walk out in just a pants and T-shirt, even though it was -6 outside. While I’m sure I’m no longer a match for Edmontonians dealing with a typical winter, I think I’m better able to cope now than the native Torontonians.

Things are still going to take a while to completely settle down. While the Ikea-fication of the apartment is nearly complete, our stuff from Singapore still hasn’t arrived, and won’t until later in February. The cats, however, will arrive on Friday, which is good, because I miss having them around, poor bastards. They must be traumatized by having not seen us for a week and the the plane trip will be an ordeal and a half for them.

There are a few more things, but I can’t really remember them right now, I’m a wimp and I’m tired from moving TVs, bed frames, drafting tables and other heavy stuff up two flights of stairs as well as using the almighty Allan Key to screw together chairs, tables, book cases and night stands.

But at least things are coming together. The Wife is here, our cats are on the way, and so is our stuff. Pretty soon, we’ll be able to call this place home.

Last Night

Just watched Clerks II and strangely feel as if I’ve grown up a little bit by watching it. But I loved it.

And this is the last night without The Wife. She got on her plane hours ago (or so goes the theory) and should be enduring the most horrific part of the flight, crossing the Pacific. If she’s very lucky, she’ll manage to get some sleep, something I was unable to do.

I’m looking forward to this, since, in a clear sign of my weakness and co-dependency, it feels really, really, really weird without her around. Now as along as I remember to bring that hat, scarf, pair of gloves and coat to the airport, she might just survive the trip across the frozen arctic wastes of the Pearson International parking lot…

Crime Has More Color

One of the interesting contrasts between Singapore and Toronto is how they handle crime. For example, in Singapore, we lived in a “colorful” part of town. That’s not to say it was a particularly bad part, but there’s more potential for conflict of the illegal kind in our area. Our apartment building was directly across the street from an older, ramshackle, vaguely sort of falling apart kind of complex which was in such poor condition because no one of consequence (ie, wealthy) had yet thought of renovating the “quaint” somewhat old building for their post-modern, revisionist requirements. So instead, that crumbly old building across the street was used to house foreign workers en masse, and when I say foreign workers I don’t mean “professionals” that wear a tie and go into the office, so much as the legion of hedge trimmers, street sweepers and construction workers that fill out the jobs much of the locale populace had already deemed beneath them.

As a result, when you squeeze that many poorly paid, disgruntled manual laborers into a such a confined space, in bulk, nastiness is bound to occur. So while it was by no means common, we were privy to the occasional manslaughter, where people would die as a result of getting a bit too angry with each other during arguments.

This would normally result a cop car, perhaps an entire van, showing up while a few cops tried to figure out what to do next, since their normal activity in Singapore consists of helping citizens to fill out forms notifying government organizations of a change of address. Whenever anything even remotely forensic comes up, a kind of student-like bafflement ensues with the local cops, who more or less have the same reaction to a murder as a classroom would when someone bumps the class fishbowl onto the ground and while the teacher is out taking a call and will be back in five minutes.

However, this evening, just across the street from the Old Friends house, some kind of crime was committed (I’ve been told that despite the fact the rest of the neighborhood is decent and safe, that one particular apartment building is a mini-Mos Eisely in that it’s a hive of scum and villainy) and whoo hoo! Ambulances! Fire trucks! Cop cars! Doughnuts and coffee! It was just like TV, but… colder. And no commercials.

Also, I have been informed by The Wife that the last vestiges of Singapore still cling to me with the annoying stickiness that only red tape can produce. The Ministry of Manpower, aka MOM, is now saying that the banker’s guarantee we had as Crime Insurance in the event I committed a major infraction (y’know, like owning gum or not flushing the toilet in a public men’s room, and yes, these ARE chargeable offenses in Singapore) still requires some kind of signature from me before it can be completely nullified. Unfortunately I wasn’t aware of this because we never received their Psychic Telepathic Communication informing us of that detail, and it’s not a detail that’s readily accessible unless you’re a bureaucrat.

I guess it’s true what they say. You can never really leave a place. Because there will always be one last form to fill before they can file it, process it, put it out in triplicate, stamp it, sign it and enter it into a database…

On a happier note, The Wife will be here in a couple of days. Yay for wives…

Caller ID Is There For A Reason

Mental note to self:

The next time the phone rings in a your Old Friend’s home, do NOT just arbitrarily pick up the phone and say “Hello, [Old Friend's Last Name] residence, the mistress isn’t in, how can I help you?”

Especially do NOT do this when the other person on the line is Old Friend’s mom, who, after a few moments of shocked silence asks, “Who… IS… this?!?”

And then reply with an abashed, “Oh… hello Mrs. [Old Friend's Last Name]… er… how’ve you been?”

“WHO… IS… THIS?!”

Fortunately after revealing who the moron was, she immediately went back into friendly mode (I was the always the nice, but disturbingly odd young man in Old Friend’s life, who was either destined to have a nice, odd life, or else bury several busloads worth of children in my backyard in her mother’s opinion, I suspect), and I brought her up to speed on what I was doing, who I was married to, but not why I was referring to her beloved daughter as Mistress.

Mouth, meet foot. I knew you two were meant for each other…

Oh, and I managed to get my articles in on time. A quiet, productive day with a little bit of work and a little bit of humiliation. Perfect…

God, I’m such a schmuck…

Oh, I Remember This

Today I stood stunned for a few minutes outside in the morning as the snow fell and tried to remind myself I actually grew up with this.

Other than that the rest of the day was mostly preparing for some articles that still need to be written for GameAxis (and are due very, VERY soon) and wandering around in the southern part of the city simply referred to as The Beach because–surprise, surprise–it’s the part that contains the shoreline of Lake Ontario.

Then the Old Friend sat me through several episodes of a show called Arrested Development which is brilliant. And psychotic. In equal measure.

But I’m pretty much concerned about The Wife. She just came down with a stomach flu a day or two ago, so now on top of missing her somethin’ fierce, there’s the worry about whether her recovery will be interfered with by the grueling plane ride across the Pacific to come over here. Call me schlocky and whipped, but I just want her to be okay and safe.

Seeing The City

Morning was spent having brunch at some amazingly charming little restaurant called “Noon.” Where I met the Old Friend’s newer friends. They were a very easy going, extremely likeable bohemian style artsy couple and with any luck I will get to know them better, because they just seemed like two really nice people that you should be friends with.

After watching it on TV during my youth, I finally got to stand in front of the Muchmusic building on Queen Street West, and watched some of the high falutin’, “Cooler Than Thou” cosmopolitans buying coffee (with super cool upturned collars!) at the Starbucks across the street.

I also found at least one promising comic book store which has already won me over. Also in the same area, it’s called “Silver Snail” and when I was picking up the next trade paperback of Fables that I didn’t have (that being Book 5) I was pleasantly surprised when teen-ish, female cashier behind the counter with the red streak in her hair informed me “We charge American prices for Marvel and DC books. Not for indie publishers though, sorry.”

Still. Here I had thought that comics were actually cheaper in Singapore, and now, at least over at Silver Snail, they actually end up being surprisingly affordable.

Watched Black Dahlia. I’m trying to decide whether the parts I really liked outweigh the parts I really disliked, and vice versa.

Also, the Wife is sick and I feel bad about that, and miss her horribly, but at least she will now own some decent gloves and other assorted bits of winter wear after a visit to some place called the Mountain Equipment Co-Op. Or something like that. It seems horrifyingly Canadian though, in that everything seems designed to keep you alive and comfy in an igloo submerged under the Arctic ocean with an enraged polar bear scratching away at the roof…

Toronto Day Two

Not much was accomplished due to the fact that I have an insufficient number of valid pieces of government approved ID, so that kind of squelched the whole “Hey, let’s open a bank account” idea I was nursing. But a little bit of shopping was done and it looks like the next few days may hold some scoutin’ out of apartments and/or art stores.

And I totally need to sleep right now…

First Impressions

There is that lucid period in my head right now, the one that’s two states past exhaustion. Was the trans-Pacific crossing long and painful? Yup. Was the stop in the American airport similar but with an added dash of paranoia? Oh yeah.

However, stepping out of the Toronto airport in a T-Shirt and jacket was surprisingly survivable. I’m going to chalk that up to the unseasonably warm weather the area’s been having, since it was clearly not sub-zero. I couldn’t see my breath. Met with Old Friend. Had pizza. Played with cat.

And now I should seriously try to crash for 12-16 hours.

But wow.

I’m home.

Sayanora Singapore

And, after over ten years on the Island That Common Sense Forgot, I now bid contradictory government policies, shameless elitism and a fear of failure so pathological it has its own reality distortion field, goodbye. That’s all you get out of me, Singapore.

I’ll dearly miss the people I’ve met and befriended here.

But I won’t miss you.

The Last Night Sort Of

Since the plane leaves on Thursday at 6 am, but as far as I’m concerned, that’s Wednesday night sinct I won’t have slept in the meantime. Today was another goodbye dinner. This time with the Wife’s aunt. Also said goodbye to another friend and gave her Stuff and Money which is always good to get for free.

Y’know, maybe at some point I should seriously consider packing…