Age of Aquariums

Other than location, my job hasn’t really changed much over the past 3.5 years. Sure, I have more responsibility than when I started with my company, but the overall description of my role is basically the same. I work with a lot of front line people who speak to potential customers over the phone. The main area of the office is a big room filled with many workstations (cubes). I have a separate office (that I share with a great coworker) but it is attached to the main room, so I generally have a very clear idea of what is happening ‘out there’ at all times, which is part of my job.

One of the main responsibilities of my coworker is to keep his team motivated. People I have worked with in the US in similar roles as his accomplish this by having a quick motivational meeting with their team at the beginning of the shift and then doing a short cheer somewhat along the lines of, “Go team!” My coworker on the other hand, is one of those ultra-charismatic people who can cultivate a following without much effort. His motivational meetings usually include long, drawn out cheers reminiscent of my organized sports days. (ie - 'I see a hole out there! I see a hole out there! I see a H-O-L-E hole out there! So hit the ball out there! So hit the ball out there! So hit the B-A-L-L ball out there!) The ones he does are a little bit more work-related, but the concept and sing-songyness are the same. Anyway, this probably wouldn't fly in a US office because people would be too self-conscious (or just not care enough) to cheer on and on about how much they love their company, but it goes over really well here in Spore.

Well, the motivational cheers have progressed. I noticed one day that the main room had become significantly darker. I went out there to see why the lights were off and what did I encounter? It was ghost story time. I kid you not. There were 35 people sitting on the floor telling ghost stories at 10:00am.

Now, the ghost stories haven't been a recurring thing, but another office quirk has - fish. At last count, we had over 40 fish in our office. You may be picturing a big tank with beautiful tropical fish in it. Nope. Most of the fish are these very pretty Siamese (I've also heard Japanese) fighting fish, which spread their fins and puff themselves out a bit when they are getting ready to fight. And they like to fight each other. This means that you can't keep them in the same tank or they will kill one another. So, instead of one big fish tank, we have over 40 small ones throughout the office. Oh, and if you put two of the tanks next to each other the fish start ramming against the glass when they see the other so you need to put some sort of divider between the tanks.

You may wonder how this fish thing got so out of control. Well, one person got one and then my coworker liked it so he got a couple and, remember what I said about cultivating a following and charisma? Yeah, well that lead to more and more people buying fish. Please keep in mind that I really am not a big fan of fish. I think they are pretty icky, so this wasn't my ideal work environment.

We changed offices recently and I kid you not, the memo about the move said in all seriousness, 'The movers will NOT be responsible for thr transportation of fish or fish tanks.' So, what happened to all of the little fighters? One of the guys adopted all of them and took them home. We have been in the new office for 2 weeks now and so far, it's fish-free.

Candy Cane

Did you know that Hershey's makes a candy cane flavored kiss? You probably did, since chances are you live in a country where they sell Hershey's kisses. I do not. Well, that's not exactly true. I bought mine in Spore in the airport before my mammoth journey. But generally, you don't see kisses around. Anyway, my point is that they are really good. And I think they might be the only thing keeping me awake/sane on this Christmas Eve 2007, which shall now be known as 'The Christmas Eve That Would Never End'. You see, when I left my apt this morning in Spore to go to work, it was Christmas Eve. Now, in Los Angeles International Airport, almost 27 hours later, it is still xmas eve! I am no longer impressed that Santa is able to deliver toys to all those kids. I mean, if I had thought to bring enough toys with me, I may have been able to hit all of the houses on the way too.

First Date Commentary

I know that he hasn't been mentioned in quite a while, but Boyfriend T is still in my life. He actually never quite made it to the boyfriend level, but he and I have become pretty good friends since we met several months ago. Although it may be inaccurate, I am going to continue to refer to him as Boyfriend T, mostly because it has a better ring to it than Friend T. Anyway, to make a long story short, he has a blog that he told me about, but didn't know I read. (BFT - I will link to it with your permission.) And he never explicitly gave me the address. Anyway, last week I was reading it and I noticed that he had a post about all of the first dates he had been on in the past year. Most of them were horror stories so I was a little bit nervous that I was going to be included with some comment about how I had begun calling him Boyfriend T before I had even met him. Well, he did mention our date, but that isn't quite what he said...

"6. American 1.5: Actually this was a good first date, and even a good second date….but the chemistry wasn’t there, and now we are ‘just friends’, which magically worked out because we are actually just friends. She is in Dubai at the moment and I can’t wait to chat with her when she gets back."

When I read this, I had one of those incredibly girly moments where I think I actually said "Awwwww" out loud in my office. (uh, I mean, not that I would ever ever ever surf the net on the company's dime.) That blurb totally made my day. So, ladies, there is an incredibly great available nice Jewish boy out here who you should meet. Did I mention that he is trained in massage therapy? And that he has an incredibly big...vocabulary? (C'mon now, get your minds out of the gutter.) He likes tall girls. And he doesn't know that I am posting this, so don't think he is trying to get me to find him a woman.

P.S. Ultra-conservatives or republicans need not apply.

The Leaving is the Hardest Part

The expat population of Singapore, and probably a lot of countries, is a very transient one. People are generally here for a predetermined amount of time. Often this timeframe is determined by an employment contract, but sometimes it is a personal limit the expat has set for him/herself. For example, although I didn't sign a contract when i accepted my position here, I figured I would only spend around 2 years abroad before I moved back to the U.S. It just seemed like that would be a good amount of time for me to gain some experience, save some money, and not be away from home for too long.

The nice thing about the transiency of the expat community is that it is ever-changing. There are always new people arriving into town. This is refreshing on a small island, because you will never run out of new people to meet. On the other hand, what this also means is that there are always people leaving. The more time you spend here, the more people leave you. I hadn't realized the implications of this until I had been here for a little while and people began to leave. First, Linzuf moved back stateside at the beginning of the year. That sucked. Big time. I still miss her very much and wish she was here to run around s'pore with me. Then, a few weeks ago, both the Texan and a friend (with whom I had been hanging out with more often recently) moved to the U.S. And again, that was terrible. I miss the Texan more than I expected and wish the other friend was still here because he was a good addition to my life and made one of my other friends (the Token Aussie) very happy.

Now, keep in mind, none of these have been a suprise. All of these people knew when they were scheduled to leave so it wasn't as though they just decided to up and go one day. But, if you know me, you may be aware that one of my...quirks, I guess you could say, is that I hate feeling like I am missing out on things. I hate feeling left out. It sounds silly, but I really like to be included in things and get bummed when people have fun without me. I mean, I am happy for my friends that they have had a great time, but I always wish that I was there to share it with them. So, I really become emotionally affected by people leaving. I don't like being left behind, which is what this feels like. It kind of is like I think I have missed the boat, or more appropriately, missed the plane.

I've come to the conclusion that I just need to adjust to the fact that this is going to happen repeatedly and often while I am here. I consider myself fortunate because I still have great friends around and am continuing to meet new people all the time. They obviously can't replace the ones who have left, but it does soothe the pain. And well, I guess the fact that one of these new people has the longest eyelashes I have ever seen on a guy and the best sense of humor isn't too shabby...

Pho Pas

I spent last weekend in Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) with friends. One of the main goals of the trip was to eat as much Vietnamese food, specifically coffee (like the Thais, they make it with condensed milk, you know, the healthy version), spring rolls, and pho. Pho (although actually pronounced more like 'fur', I like to pronounce it like 'faux') is a noodle soup with a broth made with lemon grass, lime, basil & mint. It usually has chunks of beef. (Pho Bo). It is delicious.

We arrived on Friday afternoon and had pho for lunch. It didn't disappoint. For dinner we went to an outdoor restaurant recommended by a guidebook. It was very busy with both locals and foreigners. J.Todd and I both ordered Pho Bo. The waiter (who didn't speak English) came back and said, No Mo Pho Bo. Our reply? 'Are you fo real?' The waiter nodded and said, "Fo sho. No mo pho bo." (Not really. But it sounds a lot more interesting this way.) He gave us the menu back and we both ordered the next pho on the list - Pho Hue Style. (Pronounced like 'weigh').

Our waiter brought the soup over and it looked good. The broth was kind of tomato flavored, but not too bad. However, there was a lot of stuff in the soup, and honestly, it kind of creeped me out because I couldn't identify most of it. J. Todd picked out a pig's knuckle. I picked up a piece of what looked like beef with my chopsticks. Our friend told me she didn't think it was beef because the texture was too smooth and it was too dark. She suggested that it might be a blood clot. Seriously. A. Blood. Clot. I was immediately in denial that I ordered something containing both a blood clot and pork knuckles. She was pretty insistent that it was a blood clot, so i said i would try it. I did. It wasn't beef. It was a clot, all right. I didn't finish my pho.

Overall the weekend was great, but the moral of the story is: When there is no mo pho, say no hue.

God Bless America

I was invited by a friend to a party being thrown by the embassy marines this weekend. I knew a bunch of people going and invited the Texan to come along as well. When we arrived, we found the friend who had invited us and went to say hi. He was talking to a girl that I didn't know. After a couple of minutes, my friend went to speak to someone else, which left me and the Texan alone with this girl. Shortly thereafter, I decided that she was pretty uninteresting and I wanted to go talk to some other people I knew at the party, so I did. Tex stayed with boring girl. This was fine. I actually really like it when people I am dating are comfortable in social situations and don't feel the need to be glued to my side.

I talked to my friends and then on my way to the bar went over to Tex to see if he needed a drink, thinking he would come with me. He took me up on my offer for a drink, but didn't come with me. I brought him his drink and stayed by him for about 30 seconds before my brain started to go numb (ouch. I am mean.). By this time, a friend I had been wanting to introduce to Tex showed up. I brought him over to Tex and the boring girl and waited for a lull in their conversation to introduce my friend. I waited and waited and waited a good ten minutes. No lull. I gave up. Now, I am fine with Tex being comfortable talking to other people, but come on now, give a girl some attention!

I started talking to a friend of a friend who I had met once before. She works at the emb and is getting married soon. She was telling me all about the details when this adorable marine who had given a short thank you speech to everyone for coming a few minutes earlier came over to her and said in a thick, sexy southern drawl, "I don't believe I have met your friend yet." So he introduced himself and asked if I would be around for a while, because he wanted to talk to me, but he had to work the bar for a bit. My reply, "Baby, you better believe I am not going anywhere!" ok, ok, so that's not really what I said, but you get the picture.

Tex continued to talk to boring girl while I spent half an hour or so catching up with friends while trying to be sly about checking out Marine working behind the bar. At one point we made eye contact and he motioned me over. He asked for my number and wanted to know if he could take me out on Sunday. I said sure. He then asked if I would help him restock some of the bar. Now, I had had several hurricanes at this point, so being alone with this marine in the supply closet sounded like a fantastic idea. We went to the closet, but it was a bit more innocent than I pictured. We were just talking and grabbing stuff from the shelves, when who should poke his head in? Yup, the Texan. He made a smart-ass comment asking if we wanted some privacy and I snipped something along the lines of, 'No, we are just fine.'

Tex and I left not long thereafter and went back to our respective homes. Just as I got out of the taxi, the marine called wanting to know if I wanted to grab a drink. I did. So I got back in the taxi and met him and his friend at a bar. I mean honestly, what could I have said? You have to support the troops, right?

Clarification

Just to clarify - Boyfriend T and the Texan are not the same person. I want to make sure all of the characters are kept straight.

Ms. Chatty

So I guess you could say that I am dating the Texan. I don't like the phrase 'dating' but I am going to use it for lack of a better description. To put this story in context, he is definitely not my boyfriend and we haven't had any sort of exclusivity conversations. We are just dating.

Anyway, Saturday around noonish we were lounging around at his place when the phone rang. He had been expecting a call from some coworkers who were coming into town that afternoon, so he picked it up, probably assuming it was them. Well, it wasn't. It was this girl in the US and she was loud. I was next to him and I could hear every word she was saying. Now, when I am on the phone and I don't want someone else to listen to the conversation, I go somewhere where I am all alone. The Texan didn't move a muscle, in fact he sort of slung his arm over me, so I figured that he didn't care that I heard their conversation. Ms. Chatty yapped on for a little less than ten minutes about what has been going on in her life. (She has been applying for a teaching job.) The Texan said maybe three sentences the whole time. From the tone of the conversation I could tell that they were just friends.

Ms. Chatty mentioned that she hadn't seen him online in a while. He told her the same story that he had told me a few days prior: an exgirlfriend of his just separated from her husband and had been contacting him quite a bit and he didn't really feel like talking to her. Fair enough. This is more or less what followed next:

Ms. Chatty (MC): That's too bad. Speaking of girls, how are things going with that other girl.
Me thinking to myself in slight horror - 'Oh my God. Please do not let me be 'that other girl'. This is about to get embarassing!'
Tex: Uh well...
MC: What's her name anyway?
Me: 'Oh no, oh no, oh no...' (in my head still)
MC: I mean, I know she is in California right? I mean, I don't want to have to keep calling her that girl in California.
Me: Huge grin on my face! Thinking - 'Ha! I am NOT the other girl! Well, that's good, but I bet he is squirming now! How is he going to respond to this? Who is California girl anyway?'
Tex: Well, uh, can we talk about this some other time?
MC: Is now a bad time? Oh my God - is someone there with you???
Tex: Uh, yeah.
MC: Oh my God. Why are you even talking to me? I have to go. Talk to you later.

Then Tex hung up the phone. For a split second I wanted to ask about California girl, but then decided against it. I mean, I like him alright, but I really don't mind that there is some other girl somewhere. Maybe I should mind, but I don't. And I really don't want to ask about it because I don't want to discuss anyone else I may have on my mind with him, so i don't want to make him discuss it with me. And I think that is something that is quite common with expats -- there is usually that someone back home who has a piece of you.

The Stars Shine Bright, Both Day and Night...

Funniest email I have received in a while (courtesy of my friend Linda):

what makes you think he's republican? the fact he's from texas is whitebread has a ranch goes skiing at fancy places? or did he just say he loves george bush and that all poor people should die?

Then she informed me that I should keep him around to find out how 'the enemy operates'. Heh. So I'm keeping him around for a bit.