9/28/05
The other night I caught the subway home one hour later and from one stop higher, Rockefeller Center rather than the usual Bryant Park. I almost crapped myself when on the platform I noticed the Rod Stewart dad I see every morning. It was like I’d come full circle (I’m still not clear where he lives since he takes the subway to my neighborhood in the morning, whether it’s farther out in Brooklyn, north, or Manhattan). If I get this new job (which is why I was at a different station—meeting with HR and higher ups—I swear if I don’t hear back by today I’m going to bust a gasket) I’ll see Rod’s twin both coming and going. Throaty, imploring strains of “Downtown Train” filled my head. I’m not sure why this scenario amuses me so much, maybe if you saw the guy you’d understand. If I was a camera phone person I just might try and snap a shot.

9/26/05
No matter how much I’m repulsed by Lifetime TV, I can’t turn away. As I’ve probably mentioned four or five times over the years, I’m a total sucker for Strong Medicine. I can’t believe they haven’t run out of obscure diseases that only affect women (last night they had that rare genetic thing where a mom’s DNA doesn’t match her children, so welfare wanted to take them away—I was excited because I just saw a Discovery Channel about chimeras, this same problem where you’re essentially your own twin, two eggs combined into one body so you have different DNA in parts of your body). But for the past few weeks I’ve been seeing ads for a Kathy Bates movie, Ambulance Girl, and even though I’m not icked out by Kathy Bates as much as James is (I don’t know, her and Lilly Taylor both throw him into fits) I wouldn’t exactly call myself a fan. I just hate how she’s like the go to fat lady actress. As I’ve said before, I think there are only two in Hollywood, and none under 40 (that Sara Rue has gotten even thinner and blonder than last time I mentioned her). I was just reading in People about that new movie, which should be on the Lifetime Network, In Her Shoes, and I’m not familiar with the book, but if I’m correct the main character is supposed to be fat (the People article was about the author, Jennifer Weiner, who is fat—I recall Good In Bed was popular a few years back and had a chubby protagonist). The article said they’d cast Toni Collette and had her gain 20 pounds rather than use an actress in a fat suit (like I said, clearly there aren’t any to choose from). Maybe my eyes are messed up, but is Toni Collette fat in any of the ads? Duh, I realize Hollywood standards aren’t normal people standards, but is she really supposed to be fat or did they change the plot of the movie since I read this People article. Ok, I just read some blurb about how her character loses 25 pounds during the movie (um, Muriel’s Wedding, anyone? Oh, I also just read that the author wanted her to gain 45 pounds, not 25, but she wouldn’t do it so they used a fat suit in some scenes), so I’m guessing all the promo shots are afters not befores. Anyway, back to Ambulance Girl. I was so not into the tale of a middle aged frump who changes her life by becoming an EMT. It took a couple weeks of advertising before the real story sunk in. I knew the name Jane Stern was being used in the commercial, but I didn’t make the connection between this Kathy Bates character and Jane Stern, who’s one half of the food writing duo that I’ve always admired. When I first started buying lots of cookbooks during college in the early ‘90s, I got totally hooked on Jane and Michael Sterns’ Square Meals and American Gourmet. I used to scrutinize their jacket photos, how they changed over the years. He was kind of nerdy cute, she fun loving, over the years he became a little wizened, she plumped up. At the time it seemed hard to imagine meeting someone in college who was super into food, falling in love and getting to make a career of traveling around the country and writing about it. It seemed like the perfect life, I was totally envious. Did I want to be them? No, I decided that they’d be the witty, literary yet down to earth, NPR parents I never had. (I actually sent them a letter maybe ’97 or so, asking if they’d adopt me, among other things. I’m serious—here’s the response.) They probably entertained a lot (I threw a pink party based on a chapter of theirs using old recipes like Harvard beets and Lady Baltimore Cake) but were never pretentious. I don’t really listen to public radio (I’d love to drown Garrison Keillor in Lake Wobegon) but many years ago my friend Todd was telling me how he heard Michael Stern doing his on-air shtick and how he was totally gay. This had never occurred to me, but it made perfect sense. Of course he was. They had no children, he had solo written a book on Douglas Sirk, which is the opposite of heterosexual. Straight guys in 1990 (kitsch has mainstreamed in the last decade and a half) didn’t have interest in Tammy Faye Bakker, Chippendale dancers and Charo. I wondered if this was a marriage of convenience. Obviously, they’d done well as business partners, why break up the public illusion. That’s why watching this Lifetime movie was so bizarre. It was about their marriage breaking up (through Jane’s perspective, naturally) and how becoming an EMT saved her life. Allusions were made to Michael being a recovering alcoholic, which makes one wonder why he had a drinking problem. And why she developed a weight problem (if you consider being hefty a problem). Issues, issues. Not a dream couple, nor dream parents, after all. The fish out of water paramedic thing made me think of how EMT bug also bit David Lee Roth. Could you imagine being shocked with those defibrillator paddles and looking up into Diamond Dave’s craggy face? That or Kathy Bates’ mug—I’m not sure which is more frightening.

9/23/05
I have a hard time watching Surreal Life, all the spats and couplings are so forced and childish, I’m going to have to tune into the new sixth season because I fucking love C.C. Deville. It’s about time they got someone good on there. My favorite ever Behind the Music was the Poison episode where they showed C.C. like 300 pounds after he’d gotten off drugs and was living his mom in what I’d like to believe was Bay Ridge (that’s where he grew up). He’s the best because he’s like five foot nothing, used to wear all that make up and sounds like a longshoreman. And he’s funny, though not always intentionally so. I’m dying to see whether or not he’s updated his look for the mid-‘00s. I’m sure he’s doing that horrible aging rocker Viper Room L.A. style that I so don’t understand. It makes me realize I’m not so much west coast as northwest.

9/21/05
Ok, I’m out of commission for like three weeks and now the fall styles have gone all crazy on me. Out of nowhere I’m seeing all these hideous stretch pant gauchos. They had them at Target last weekend. And, oh look, Fashion Bug (I’d forgotten all about Fashion Bug—I used to get so bored when I first moved here that I’d actually go to the FB at the sad Middle Village Metro Mall for fun) has maternity stretch gauchos that are “essential and versatile.” Is this trickling down from some designer that I don’t know about because the giant Sept. Vogue exhausts me? (I had it on my desk next to the new CIA World Factbook and they’re like the same size, most fashion magazines tend to bore me [Elle flat out irritates me].) And these cropped cotton-poly blend beasts are usually paired with flip flops (flip flops were thankfully absent from S.E. Asia, along with reggaeton, a.k.a. ass fucking music, but almost every female under thirty was wearing those gross thong-style Birkenstocks, and still managed to look cute (growing up in the NW, I think I have an irrational aversion to Birkenstocks and Tevas—if you don’t know what Tevas are, god bless you). I’d noticed a small proportion of women on the subway this summer wearing this particular model, but didn’t think much of it. But they were huge in Hong Kong and Singapore. (Quick style generalizations: Hong Kong was New Yorkish, lots of labels, upmarket, high end, Singapore was a little funkier, the kids seemed hipper, not so much the general population, who are fairly conservative, Kula Lumpur was more mainstream, like a mid-size American town, kind of California, but not San Francisco or Los Angeles, maybe San Diego--teens were wearing pegged pants, spikes, Suicidal Tendencies and Cramps shirts and had long hair, very suburban bad kid from the late ‘80s. Of course there was a huge contingent of women draped head to toe in black, which while kind of goth isn’t the suburban middle American style I’m talking about. Penang was I don’t know what, everyone was wearing Body Glove, women had weird dykey shlongs with braided tails, tiny guys with like 25” waists wore bellbottoms, tight tee shirts and moustaches, a look that could be misconstrued as cool in Brooklyn, but in essence is very Pablo Cruise. Ok, most Penangites looked like run of the mill tropical Asian folks, but there was definitely a land time forgot vibe.) Stretch gauchos are bad, though I’m not totally bothered by the more tailored version. I know they’re drapey and hideous and so not suited to my body type, but I actually considered purchasing a tweedy pair this afternoon (rationality got the better of me, thank god).

9/19/05
Fall is the best time of year (yes, we’re not quite there yet). I used to like the feeling you’d get when a new school year would begin. A sense of excitement/anxiety and change, like you could start fresh and reinvent (though this was never really true), meet new people, establish yourself, maybe find a new crowd and do big wonderful things. Now Septembers are all kind of the same, nothing new to shake things up, and it’s always too hot (particularly here) to even wear new autumn clothes and pretend a new wardrobe can make a difference. All I have to look forward to is television. Finally, I can get back into my TV watching routine/rut that eluded me during the summer. All I had was Six Feet Under (which is gone for good) and Battlestar Galactica and that’s almost over already (it just started in July too). Now I can get back into Lost (I swear during summer reruns they still never played Hurley’s episode, the one I never saw. Maybe it aired while I was on vacation, but I seriously doubt it), House, Curb Your Enthusiasm, maybe America’s Next Top Model (I just want to see if they’ve given up altogether on trying to put a “fat” girl in the fray. I think they stopped doing that last season). I wasn’t super enthused by Bones, Rome isn’t doing much for me (I’m not so into period pieces, but then, Deadwood grew on me), Prison Break didn’t really grab my attention. Speaking of, there’s too much on tonight. I can pass on Prison Break, but I’d like to see Arrested Development (which I’ve never been super faithful too, despite the show being funnier than most) and Kitchen Confidential (just because the premise seems so horrible, the bad boy chef thing seems so blech). But Surface is also on tonight (I’m trying to get my alien shows straight—Surface is the sea creature one, Threshold is the spooky four-dimensional glowing object one, Invasion is the eerie hurricane one [ha, nice timing—now everyone’s going to start suspecting all those Katrina survivors who are still popping out of the woodwork being rescued weeks later are actually aliens]. Threshold already aired and hooked me because I’m a sucker for supernatural crap [though I won’t be watching Ghost Whisperer and have never been into Medium--or Desperate Housewives, which is off topic, I know] especially when it stars the Williamsburg dwarf Peter Dinklage [I heard somewhere that he lives in that neighborhood and for some reason that amuses me] Data, and “Ethan” Tom Cruise’s real life cousin, the psycho from Lost who’s now the psycho from Threshold) And James is going to ruin my plans by wanting to watch Monday night football. I need freakin’ Tivo. Maybe if I do get a new job I could justify the cost, but I could never make a case for it rationally (though I have this new plan where I swear I’ll be more fit if I don’t have to go to the gym because I hate the gym, the physical space, the people inside it, the music piped into it, etc. Exercising doesn’t bother me, but the atmosphere and culture does. I’ve only been going 2-3 times a week just because I hate being there. So, yesterday online I bought a low end elliptical trainer with the idea that if I could just watch TV downstairs while using it that I could easily get in a hour a day, when normally I get bored and/or irritated after about 30 minutes. If all goes as planned I could easily quadruple my fitness regime. And maybe I could work Tivo into this proposal somehow). I’ll probably give My Name is Earl, The Apprentice: Martha Stewart a chance and watch Inconceivable once because I like grossing myself out. I can’t see myself enjoying either of the two mismatched lawyers with practices in Venice Beach shows: Head Cases (I was recently wondering what had happened to Chris O’Donnell) or Just Legal. And it’s doubtful I’ll get sucked into How I Met Your Mom (despite Doogie Howser as a main character), Three Wishes (I thought Amy Grant was dead), or much of anything on WB—Tyra Banks has a talk show?

9/15/05
Before I move on and settle back into my routine NYC existence, allow me to share my not so enlightening impressions of S.E. Asia while they’re still semi-fresh in my mind. Premier. Malaysia was obsessed with the concept of premier. The brand name of the little packs of tissue you have to carry at all times because no one stocks toilet paper or napkins (and this isn’t a developing nation thing. Singapore, which is uber clean and modern doesn’t provide toilet paper or paper towels except in higher end restaurants [and both James and I would steal “real” paper towels and hoard them for later when we found them because it’s ridiculous using what is essentially Kleenex to wash you hands after eating messy hawker food with your fingers]. I’m guessing it’s a tidy issue, like it creates less mess and waste. I won’t even start on the “squat pans.” I just can’t get used to crouching over a hole with a hose on the floor. Is this a Muslim thing? Are they actually hosing themselves off after taking a dump? That seems messier than simply using toilet paper. Plus, my thigh muscles are only strong enough for so much squatting.) is Premier. Well, at least the brand I bought and saw most often. As I already wrote, we stayed in the Premier wing at the Concorde Hotel in KL, which meant you got all sorts of special treatment, free room service, private lounge and breakfast, haircut or massage, limo transfer from the airport. They really seem to enjoy demarcating regular from premier. I certainly felt special. I don’t know if this is typical of all movie theaters in S.E. Asia or just the one we went to in Penang, but you get assigned seating when you buy your ticket, which I think is kind of brilliant. But for like two rinngets more you could purchase a Premier ticket. I’m still not sure what the benefits of this are. I think you got seated first, there was some sit down Premier snack bar and there were couples seats (which James was offered and turned down), two seats together like a love seat. As an aside, the theater had a sign saying that they were out of mashed potatoes. I had no idea that mashed potatoes were so popular in S.E. Asia, but they clearly were. 7-eleven in Singapore had a mashed potato machine (which they probably also had at the movie theater) that squirted out a potato blob with gravy. It was the #1 combo meal. McDonald’s was heavily promoting a new item: corn in a plastic cup. I was so not inspired by that. So, yeah, fast food sides are different. Oh, at the KLCC Suria (mall inside Petronas Towers—I still can’t believe I didn’t know the towers housed a giant shopping center. Asia is so insane for malls, the hugest are in China, I’m still not sure why Americans are considered so vehemently consumerist. We’re not really, in comparison.) they had Premier bathrooms you could use for RM2 (50 cents). I never had the opportunity to try one out and am not sure what your RM2 got you, maybe a real toilet and toilet paper? Crossing the street. You can’t cross the street in Asia. In Hong Kong there aren’t many right angles and corner crosswalks. There are a few spots where you can cross with a light but mostly you have to walk up and over stupid flyover, roundabout things. This is extremely taxing. We were dumb enough to take the subway to our hotel from Hong Kong airport and we could see our hotel, but had to cross the street and climb and up and down like twenty flights of stairs with heavy bags in hot hot heat to go like four blocks. Kuala Lumpur weren’t quite as bad, but we didn’t walk a lot there. Singapore has over and underpasses, but you don’t have to go outside much anyway. You can traverse blocks and blocks just using mazes of escalators (which move faster in Singapore than here and other cities we visited. The weird thing was that in ’03 when went last time the malls were crowded but not crazy. This time every place was so packed you could barely breathe. And people move so damn slow, walking normal strides was impossible, everyone kind of shuffles into each other like zombies, and there were like five-minute lines just to get on escalators. And you couldn’t bypass them because there aren’t stairs as an alternative. We dared to go outside [no one goes outside] and ran around to where the escalator started and gently shoved into the thick line, very NYC, kind of how drivers come up on the left and force their way in front and off BQE exits instead of waiting in the right lane like polite citizens) connecting shopping centers. This was good, it kept you air conditioned and saved your legs from actually having to walk up and down stairs. I’m surprised people aren’t fatter. Drugstores Using Watson’s as an example since they were ubiquitous as Duane Reade, it seemed that Advil was behind the counter in all countries. I’m not sure why. Hong Kong surprised me in that they had birth control pills sitting on the shelves, no prescription needed (Bangkok was the same, if I’m correct). Right before I left NYC, I had to pay out of pocket for an extra pack (I didn’t want a period while on vacation) that insurance wouldn’t cover. I could’ve saved my $28 and stocked up in Hong Kong for much less. Even more surprising was the vibrator on display right above the birth control section. Singapore, of course, had no such things on their Watson’s shelves. Of course, this is a country that has to create public service campaigns just to get their citizens to do it at all (their population is shrinking). Ice Blended coffees are merely what Starbucks calls Frappucinos and Dunkin’ Donuts has dubbed Coolata. I never in my life drink these sorts of concoctions. Despite coming of age in the NW during the late ‘80s coffee craze, I rarely drink anything other than cheap no name black coffee. But being in foreign countries I had a heightened awareness of fast food, chains, ads, promotions. And Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf shops (Cafe E.S. Kimo, Dome are another two I saw here and there. The malls are weird in that they lump everything similar together. So make up and beauty stores are in the same wing and kids clothes and toy stores are all near each other. Same with these cafes. There was usually an outdoor strip of like six-seven: Starbucks, Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, Dome, Gloria Jean’s, Secret Recipe, and more I can’t recall, all with indoor and outdoor seating. Sitting outside was nuts to me, but very popular and they do this water cooling fan thing I guess works a little like outside air conditioning but makes everything wet) were on like every block in Singapore and Malaysia (I guess they’re in California and the SW, but I’m not familiar with them) touting their ice blended drinks. These stores were insanely popular, and next thing you knew I was completely sucked in and getting an ice blended almost daily. Almost every afternoon, no matter where we’d be James and I would say to each other “I think it’s time for an ice blended.” I’m starting to think I only drink black coffee not out of any sort of conviction, sense of simplicity or health-mindedness, but simply because I’m cheap. The ice blendeds were less than $2 a pop. With food so cheap in S.E. Asia I’m afraid I’d become even more obese than I already am. I’m going through minor ice blended withdrawal, but there’s no way I’m drinking that shit here in NYC. At least not from Starbucks (in Hong Kong they sold James on trying their new Lite Frappucino—did we look that in need of calorie reduction? And it sucked massively. A total waste of ice blending. Though their full fat green tea drink wasn’t half bad). Oh my, I’ve rambled too much and ran out of time. I’ll carry on tomorrow.

9/14/05
What gives? I thought I would be coming back to crisp/balmy cuspy fall/summer weather, but I’m back in the urban tropics. It shouldn’t be 90s and humid in the middle of September. So, I’m still not sure what’s going on new job-wise. But my thunder has been stolen because yesterday a coworker, our library assistant, gave her notice. There are only five people in our dept. so it ought to be interesting if I decide to quit too. It’s weird because yesterday, totally unprompted, my boss approached me about raises. But she’s a total pessimist and basically said that if we got them at all it’d be a cost of living 4-5% thing. In my case that’s like $1,900. Yeah, do the pathetic backwards math to deduce my salary. It’s strange that she’d pick yesterday (before the other person gave notice) to bring up raises. Despite her claims of trying to get more (we’ve given higher ups copies of the Special Libraries Annual Salary Survey, which shows massive disparity between what we’re making and other NYC corporate librarians are, and haven’t had any results) I’m not holding my breath. I thought I was going to find out what this other job paid today, but no hard numbers were given. I was asked what I was looking for, which is a really shitty question for the chronically underpaid. Librarians are passive and always lowball because they know they’re not going to get what they should be making anyway and don’t want to look ungrateful. Or something. I fudged what I was making a bit and said that I’d expect more than that if I was going to change jobs. The director didn’t seem fazed, I probably lowballed myself. But who knows, I could be way overestimating what they’re willing to offer. I’m estimating a $5-7,000 bump from my current salary. Worst case scenario and I’m warped wrong, I’m pretty sure it would still be more than $1,900. But I’m trying not to get ahead of myself.

9/13/05
I just put up some vacation photos, if anyone is inclined to look at them. It’s a lot of odds and ends really, no rhyme or reason. I have problems with deciding what to take photos of, so I end up taking photos of nothing. Malaysia, Singapore, and Hong Kong. I don’t recall being so jetlegged last time I visited S.E. Asia. I can’t stay up past 9pm, my whole body feels wobbly and dizzy like the floor is moving and I’m very jumpy. Oh, and my taste is all off. Everything seems saltier than it should. Yesterday I bought a nice Baalthazaar baguette and two strong cheeses St. Nectaire and Rocbleu because I’ve seriously been deprived of good bread and cheese the past few weeks (you can certainly get these things in S.E. Asia, but it’s not like we were out grocery shopping). The cheese totally hurt my tongue. What would normally be good pungent was painfully strong. My taste buds are seriously screwed up. Sat. night Ju-on was on cable, and James was all “this is the original The Ring” and I was like “no, it’s The Grudge. I was right, and then Sunday night The Grudge was on TV. Normally, I wouldn’t watch either but got sucked into both. I didn’t think the movies were all that scary. But then Sunday night I conked out early, before 10pm, then was awoken at 11:20pm by my ringing phone. Someone called and hung up five times in a row from an anonymous number (anyone I know’s number shows up on caller ID, plus, I did answer once and it was silent on the other end) and instead of being irritated as I usually would, I panicked and got scared to death. I was so scared that I was afraid to get out of bed or turn my head or else there might be someone in the room. I never get so spooked by horror movies, I’m blaming it on the jetlag. But I finally mustered the courage to run over and turn my light on, and this craggy male voice comes from right outside (my windows are at head level on the sidewalk) “Go ahead, I know you’re looking at me from your window.” It scared the shit out of me. I don’t even know that it was directed at me, it sounded like a homeless guy, there are always scraggly types going through our garbage right along this wall, under the windows. But given the circumstances, I was freaked out. A tree has grown completely over the window that my bed can be viewed from, which is good, but it was unnaturally bright out and breezy that evening and I couldn’t sleep with all the branches waving around making creepy silhouettes. Like I said, I’ve never been this nervous and off kilter before, my heart was racing. I had to go sleep in James’ room for a couple hours until I mellowed out, we’re weird that way, we sleep better alone, but I made an exception. Not related, but strange to me is that James got a message on his answering machine from some woman named Michelle saying she’d be coming by Sunday for Jen and Parker (the annoying mommy and her baby on the third floor). He didn’t think much of it until Sunday when this Michelle woman actually was knocking on our door. He directed her upstairs and then a few minutes later we peeked out the window to see the three of them outside. Whatever, but how did this Michelle woman get James’ phone number? It’s unlisted. If she knew this woman and her baby why didn’t she call them directly and know what apt. # is theirs instead of knocking on our door (apt. numbers and tenants can be seen by anyone in the foyer). The whole thing is suspicious to me. I can understand knocking/buzzing on apt. #1, ours, because every delivery person, visitor, and stranger on earth seems to think it’s ok and the appropriate way to reach their intended targets in apartments #2-4. But calling our house is the part that gets me. The neighbors in our building don’t even have our phone numbers (though mine is easily found). Maybe I’m just hyper aware after being out of town for a few weeks. I haven’t settled back into the bafflingly troublesome Brooklyn way of life yet.

9/10/05
Ok, I’ve been home for about twelve hours, and all I can think of is eating American-ish food. Bagels, pizza and tacos keep coming to mind. I actually got my bagel for breakfast, now a slice is in order for lunch. Mexican will be a must for dinner. I could’ve gotten all three items in Asia, but they would certainly be mangled somehow. Asians seem to love Italian, pizza and pasta is everywhere, but being a style of cooking I’m not super fond of even in one of Brooklyn’s most Italian-American neighborhoods, spaghetti Bolognese (the most popular it appeared) in Hong Kong might’ve put me over the edge. Bagels? I saw a few at cafes, but felt better about sticking to local treats like curry puffs? Mexican? Not so much. There was a place called Taco Loco HK, which I wouldn’t touch, primarily because I fear everything Western in the Asian cities I visited has been put through a British filter. They probably have chips on the menu. Or put mayo in the guacamole, assuming they serve guacamole. Good Mexican in NYC is scarce enough. As my sister can attest, finding it in England is a waste of time. When I was comparing the independence day celebrations in Kuala Lumpur to Puerto Rican day mobs, what I failed to mention in my likening to NYC is that it could never be NYC because I don’t think black, Hispanic or Jewish folks exist in S.E. Asia (I did see a handful of African Africans in HK, but only on the Kowloon side). I guess it doesn’t fit any logical migratory paths, it’s not like African Americans or Puerto Ricans, Mexicans or whomever would just hop, skip and jump continents like that. Though Chinese seem to have permeated the globe, I know there was an NY Times article a few weeks ago about Chinese restaurants in Iraq and how the owners were being affected by the war. I’m not sure why they’re so intrepid. I just can’t see a bunch of Puerto Ricans choosing to pick up and move to Malaysia. And I doubt you’d find any shops slinging fried chicken and collard greens in Middle East. Though I could be totally wrong about that, it’s not like I have any first hand knowledge of the Persian Gulf.

9/7/05
Aw, only one day left on vacation. Tomorrow, Thurs. will be it. Today was Macau, just a 45-minute ferry ride from Hong Kong. It was kind of a bust because I didn't get to go the renowned Portuguese restaurant Fernando's for suckling pig. Getting around the city/country was impossible, we couldn't flag down a taxi to save our lives and when we finally found one (after nearly an hour) the driver refused to take us there, kind of like getting an Manhattan cab driver to divert to Coney Island or something, I think. And then some guy tried stealthily snatching James’ bag on the ferry. Totally seedy, bad vibe, frustrating place. Kind of how I expected Malaysia to be, but was proven wrong. Malaysia was fun, relatively English friendly and no problem to navigate. Urgh, I didn't have the time I thought I did to write much here. Two quick things: 1) I'm now convinced I have dengue fever. There are ads, warnings, public service announcements everywhere about it. They were disinfecting all the airplanes and taking temperatures at the airport (totally violating first amendment rights or something. I swear Americans would have a shit fit if they were being sprayed with some mystery chemical on an airplane and simply told to close their eyes for 30 seconds, and had their bodies scanned with infrared and displayed on a public monitor at immigration. Having a high temperature might have nothing to do with dengue fever--is it really a country's business if I choose to travel with a fever?). Last week James declared he was having a severe cold relapse, headaches and sore throat (I couldn't relapse since mine never went all the way away). Today I noticed a rash on the inside of both my elbows, it's probably heat related (Macau was violently hot) but rash is also totally a dengue fever symptom. Oh, and I've got mosquito bites all over the place. If you don't hear from me by next week, you'll know I've been quarantined. 2) I've completely randomly been offered a new job. While in Singapore I got a voicemail from the ad agency I interned at last summer saying they had an opening if I was interested. To be honest, where I'm at now is more innovative as far as libraries go, but I fear my position is dead end, and without getting into specifics there are a million other not so great things about the dept. This other ad agency library is more backwards and has a smaller staff, but I have a suspicion that they pay better. At this point in my life, that matters more. I will be at my present job one year in about one week and I seriously see no raise in my near or distant future (rumors are that no one has received an increase in three years). So, if this new position pays more, that will be that. Though they will kill me at work. I missed nearly a week from being sick, then took 2.5 weeks off, totaling three weeks I haven't been in the office, then I show up say Monday and give my notice. It will look so completely planned, using up tons of sick and vacation days then quitting. But it's simply a matter of awkward timing. Who knows if I'll even do it. Salary hasn't even been discussed, which as I stated, is really the only motivating factor in switching companies. But why not wish big?