"Today's Mood" (How is Princess Gretel feeling today? Alright?): Strangely inspired, confident, optimistic, all that good stuff, but with the wicked witch of the west flying around my brain on her ugly broomstick shrieking and cackling about how she reckons its not going to last long. What a bitch.

I saw that lovely French movie today. Its as colourful and creative as Amelie and the story was solid. It reminded me a bit of John really. Its based around the "the ball's in your court" idea in relationships when you say look man its up to you now. They exchange this little tin with each encounter and man the ending was a bit rough but when you think about it, any other ending would not do.

Also, I started a piano-lesson trend on campus. A violent revolution! Now every girl is scrambling to get lessons off the quiet, talented, first-year fine arts student with a certain jerk of the shoulders which suggests questionable sexuality, (come to think of it.) Initiative. A foreigner says to a Chinese man, "Think outside the square you live in," and the Chinese man replies, "What square?"


  ¶ 21:07 0 Comments

  Ignore this

My teacher said there isn't really a definition to Post Modernism, then went on to talk for about 3 hours which...... I guess my brain was suffering from some damage.

So what is it? I read the text, more like an article or paper someone wrote but still don't have any clue. Maybe someone can help me put them in layman terms...


To me it is a destructive kind of attitude where you want to reject every thing that is offered to you because there is no truth in it at all. It is like the attitude that why should you read anything, when everything that is written is subjective, and can therefore never be the absolute truth? The truth can never be expressed! It is just a fleeting moment in time that can never be experienced again. (That reminds me of Daoism too actually)

And you never want to write anything structured because you feel that you are also in no position to suggest what is true, so all you want to write is segments of reality and experience. This is how In The Skin of A Lion by Michael Ondaatje was written... I went through a post-modernist phase myself during my first year of university when I suddenly found myself unable to research any essays because I was ideologically opposed to reading and believing anything that was trying to offer the truth, and thought it abominable to claim i could form an argument based on what other people had subjectively written in books. it all seemed a waste of time and my essays ended up being about the experience of reading whatever i had tried to read rather than the content. that is post-modernism.

P.S. and try explaining that to your professor next time you hand in a load of crap: "sorry, but i'm utterly opposed to reading and as a postmodernist it is against my beliefs to produce evidence of coherent thinking." maybe they should have a special pension for people who couldn't pass uni because they were postmodernists. or you could use it in your next appeal for special consideration: "refuses to believe there is truth in anything".

  ¶ 20:30 0 Comments

  Had my weekly bojangle (can't speak the English language? Make up your own!) with Xiao Pi today. Almost felt fluent, it was cool. New plan is to stay here and earn English teaching money so that I'm cashed up when I get home.

Speaking about speaking English, Qili's is better than mine. God damn who was it that said they went to Europe to discover all the Europeans could speak better English than they could? I feel illiterate around her. Its an unsettling feeling. No wonder the sudden upsurge in book buying. By the way, Shanghai Baby was rubbish. The best bit was her description of when she humped this guy in a toilet cubicle at some yuppie soiree followed by her explanation of how she cheated on her impotent and depressed boyfriend without remorse, his discovery provoking his long-awaited suicide. If you want an international best-seller, get it banned!

It rained heaps yesterday, and for the first time last night, as I smoked my bed time cigarrette on the balcony, I at once realised that not only was a addicted to smoking again, but that Taichung really can be beautiful at night. The pollution was nearly completely washed away, and the lights were actually sparkling, and the sky was black with clouds rather than orange with the reflection of the city on the pollution. Rare occasion alert! I still go for my 'Giant Fan' concept. Do you know about my Giant Fan Concept?

The Giant Fan Concept

Taiwan builds a giant fan, as big as the thing Mr Burns built to cover up the sun in The Simpsons, and blows away all the pollution over Taiwan like candles on a birthday cake. Whoooooooh.   ¶ 18:39 0 Comments

  Chapter 13: Gretel at Age 19 - Pathetic Crushes and Trying to Read More to Become Smarter

I literally chased after the object of my affections today, through the rain, too, it will do that to you, tearing out the door of the language centre to once again humiliate myself. Well, I can deal with it, I got it over with, there are plenty of fish in the Ivy League. In the sea. Did I say in the sea? I meant in the sea. Maybe I don't even like him. Harry at the hostel in Taipei said maybe I just see in him the things I wish I had in myself. That's probably true, seeing as though I am one of the many semi-intelligent people in the world who grieve over not having had a snazzier education. Officially getting over it.

Today's the 28th of April... 3 weeks till ma berzday!

I'm reading a really really fantastical book called If on a Winter's Night a Traveller, by an Italian dude called Italo Calvino. Its twisty and creative and it constantly outsmarts the reader which is what I like. Its like a story about stories about stories, like In the Skin of a Lion kind of. Coz its um, meta-fiction.

  ¶ 16:07 0 Comments

  I had an exceptional weekend. Friday I tested the theory that Western women are excluded from the meat-market that is the Pig Pen. Saturday Carolyn came out with us and we went to the Londoner where we practised pole-dancing around this guy who bought us drinks to show is gratitude. Curtis came in and gave him a massive filfthy, apparently, and then the guy started rapping about how Curtis gave him a filfthy. This Texan hotty, whose father is in the oil business, was interested in Carolyn but she was like "get away". I was busy talking to this Quebecois who told me all about Thailand. He recommended not sleeping on the beach in Thailand, but getting a bungalow for like fifty cents a day. Curtis and Chris were like 'yeah this guy is a dick' because he was showing off about how much he knew but I didn't think he was that bad.

After the Londoner we headed off to Buddy's. I lost my scooter-accident virginity. I slid off the back of Carolyn's scooter and well it all seemed to happen in slow motion. Like, I could feel it happening the second before it happened, you know when all you can do is think oh I'm definitely falling off the scooter here so I better see how I can quickly adjust my body to minimise injuries. Carolyn freaked and I would have too but I was drunk so it was all fun and games.

The only thing is that I tore a hole in my black pants. This is a serious predicament, because I cannot buy pants in Taiwan thanks to my fat Western ass, and I wore them at least 17 times a week. Between 8:30 and 9:00 every Friday and Saturday evening without fail, I would hop out of the shower, contemplate wearing something different, then give in to the power of those black pants, which called out to me saying "wear me, let's face it, you haven't shaved your legs, and you've got nothing else to wear, and black makes you look thinner, so you have no choice, Liz, but to just do it."  ¶ 20:44 0 Comments

  To Be Deleted Later

Hi I had a coffee and now I feel like typing stuff non-stop so here goes. Well I used to hate it when 5 other people would be playing their instruments while I was at the piano, but I play better when I think noone is listening, or maybe its just because I can't hear it... anyway I have been hanging out there alot lately and I do like the people, not the snobby ones but the ones that are as crap as I am.

Hmm in that birthday book that Karina has, it says that everyone with birthdays on May 21 are egotistical so no wonder I'm obsessed with having something to say about myself and stressing the f*** out whenever someone misunderstands me or my actions. Well I got that off my chest.
Let's see, what else do I really have to say...

I'm letting go of the future for the time being because I have neglected the present for too long and its time to start really enjoying life again, just like I did when I was at Henry Kendall. No more ambitions, ever!! I really don't think there's anything wrong with being a bum in Thailand for six months, absolutely nothing wrong with it at all. Its time to stop listening to your parents, children, and live your own lives. Don't let anyone design your life on your behalf because its not always going to be right for you.

And for the biggest cliche ever, never EVER EVER listen when someone tells you you can't do something, there is no way you can do something, or that what you want to do is stupid, or that you weren't 'meant' to do something, or that you have to 'wait a couple of years' to do something or whatever. Even if they use some semi-sophisticated form of reasoning to present their argument. These people have issues that they are imposing on other people and you need to get away from them! I know its hard, especially when you have grown up believing that you have to listen to these people, but you have to break free and surround yourself with people who are going to say, "When do you leave?" rather than "be realistic" when you tell them you are going to go and live with the pygmies. Even if it doesn't work out, trying to get there is where the fun lies.

If you are not hurting anyone or committing a crime, then noone ever has any right to oppose or try to stop what you are doing.

If I was the autocratic ruler of my own country, I would have anyone with a spirit-destroying attitude beheaded straight away. Although if anyone opposed this, they would have to be beheaded too so I'm not sure how successful this system would be.   ¶ 16:38 0 Comments

  The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Ninth Level of Hell - Cocytus!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	High
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	High
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	High

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test
  ¶ 16:27 0 Comments

  It turns out I'm going to the 9th level of hell, when I had always fancied myself a nice person. I wonder if I'll ever go to jail.   ¶ 16:22 0 Comments

  Hanna slumped into a seat at Carl's table and waited for him to pay her some attention. He had been witness to her four full days of non-stop elated moods and this morning she woke up tired and realised it was over. Carl explained his theory about China and world domination, and how they're all doing the right thing learning Chinese. "Back in highschool I wanted to be a spy," Hanna reminisced, "but then I realised it would suck not being able to tell anyone." Carl said "You already are one, aren't you!" Hanna laughed and said "Well no actually to tell you the truth, I want to be a writer." She hated to say that she wanted to be a writer, because every man and his dog wants to be a writer. With not a moment of hesitation, Carl slid his pen across the table to her and appeared to be waiting for something. Hanna was a little perplexed. "What, so here's a pen, and you want me to start writing?" She looked at him questioningly for less than two seconds until he grabbed the pen back and started studying again. "OK, give it to me then. I'll just start writing on this piece of paper then," Hanna laughed.
"That was your oppurtunity. You didn't take it when it was there, and now you've lost it. You can't have it back," Carl replied. "You let the oppurtunity pass you by, and that's why you're not famous, Hanna."
Hanna had always known Carl was a straight-down-the-line kind of guy who often pissed her off with his arrogance but she had nevertheless always appreciated his strength. It turned out he was good at illustrating points, too, and suddenly Hanna realised there was more to his personality than she had previously imagined.... Stay tuned for next week's episode!  ¶ 15:11 0 Comments

  Well I can officially say that my blogging fervour lasted a couple of months and now I can't think of anything worth typing, except my news, which is last weekend I went to Taipei and hung out with Thomas who was rumoured to have skipped the country after the gang attacks at the Sound Garden. He's just been hiding out in a hostel in Taipei till he saves enough to leave the country. I also saw Mark, a Chinese tutor from Sydney Uni, with whom I had lunch at Chiang Kai-Shek memorial with a view of all these crazy pan-blue hire-a-protestors. He also showed me Ximending which was great, seven months after arriving I finally discover where to hang out in Taipei. Yesterday Qili and I went for a swim at this pool where they have all these cleanliness precautions, Japanese-style. Hmm what else... Mel is definitely coming to Hong Kong, cool, and Mum wrote me a letter telling me if I go and live on the beach in Thailand I will catch HIV. I'm still going though. I have a best-seller to write. Hahaha
I also saw the new Jim Carrey movie. It was very cool. Kate Winslet was quite unrecognisable weighing about 32kg with blue hair. I also saw a bad local movie called Formula 17 about a young Taiwanese guy falling in love with the biggest playboy of the Taipei gay scene. It wasn't that bad but it seemed like they were just talking slowly to make the movie last longer. And some of the people couldn't act.   ¶ 15:58 0 Comments

  Ask Gretel

Dear Gretel,
I'm a Taiwanese internet gamer and I have forgotten what life is. Every day I go straight from my International Trade 101 class to the internet cafe up Lane 3 where I play a stupid game where there's this cartoon guy who walks around collecting things and walks across grass alot. I often fart quite badly when I'm sitting at the computer and I spend pretty much all day in this stenchy fart-filled cafe. There's this foreigner sitting at the computer next to me. I stared over her shoulder for a prolonged period of time, because hey, she's a foreigner, and saw that she was typing emails at hotmail. I tried to read what she was writing but then she started staring back at my computer and that's when I realised how annoying it was. My question is, Gretel, how do I stop farting when I'm in an internet cafe? What is the proper way to manage one's bodily functions when seated inside an internet cafe?
Mind-numbed,

Billy

Dear Billy,
You have what is commonly referred to as "Internet Gaming Obsession Disorder And Related Flatulence". If you remember who your mother is, or what it feels like to be at home with your family instead of falling asleep in front of a computer at 11pm every night, she would tell you that you should watch your farting habits no matter how much time you spend in one place. You may feel like you live there, but the people seated at the computers beside you are not your brothers and sisters, with whom you feel you can let one rip and have a good giggle over it. Remember these tips for tomorrow: Did you eat egg today? Did you spend the required amount of time in isolation following a large serving of curry? When was the last time you ate alot of fruit? I recommend keeping a Fart Diary. That way, you can manage your gaming sessions around your eating habits. If that doesn't work, whenever you feel like one is coming, go to the bathroom, and let it out there. You will find that these are the standards of behaviour in all the best internet cafes and your fellow computer users will be grateful. You never know, that foreigner sitting next to you may one day strike up a conversation with you and before you know it, you will be fluent in English.
Good luck,

Gretel  ¶ 20:57 0 Comments

  A friend told me the other day that anonymity is dangerous. I wonder why. Maybe if you anonymously bare your soul on an internet forum and someone you know figures out who you are and sees more than you are ready for them to see.   ¶ 20:45 0 Comments

  The B.S.R.F.

This girl from the piano club invited me to see an orchestra somewhere near Taichung last night and she reminded me on Friday and I said Yeah I'll be there even though I had decided to go to Taipei so I took her number and planned to ring her and chuck a sickie. I thought a whole bunch of them were going so it didn't matter. But because I slept till two and went straight to Taipei I totally forgot to ring her. She rang me while I was on the bus and then I remembered. I thought, oh, they're probably all waiting for me... they can just go on without me. It turns out it wasn't a group trip at all, it was just me and her going, and she had already bought a ticket so she was still going to go by herself. Now I am the Big Scary Rude Foreigner and there is never any way of explaining.   ¶ 13:30 0 Comments

  Last night I smoked a coloured cigarette and listened carefully to the lyrics of Jesus Christ Superstar. Wow, I never realised how profound that song was. Why didn't anyone tell me about it earlier? Wow. Also, my crush on ---- has escalated to dangerous levels and I'm going to suffer extreme separation anxiety when everyone starts leaving, one by one, in a couple of months. Oh goodness I want to know this person forever.   ¶ 16:11 0 Comments

  Hello! I gave myself food poisoning yesterday, it was painful until I took a Panadol cold and flu, non-drowsy. Oh that reminds me of the sore throat I brought back from mainland China. It was the nastiest sore throat anyone could ever imagine and I was swallowing painkillers like lollies. As I passed out on the bed, in a calm and empty stupor, fancying this is how Curt Cobain must have felt before he died*, in the hotel in Taipei, I told Lily, if you find me unconscious, tell the doctors that in the past three hours I've had four cold and flus and five of those French paracetomols you brought.

Anyway I secretly felt glad to have an excuse to lie in bed like a slob reading my books all day. Lately I have been feeling that I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life reading, on a beach somewhere, slobbing it off to my heart's desire. I bought The Alchemist yesterday. Its supposed to change your life and I have been waiting for another life-changing book since 1984. Not since 1984, since I read 1984 in 2000. Mum told me not go to class this morning, but this spurred the all-seeing all-knowing dorm lady to come to my room and say "So you think you don't need to go to class do you?" I think she's supposed to be the psuedo-mother for all the 22 year old girls who live in the dorms and haven't learnt to cope with living away from home.

Its serious though - all I want to do is play the piano and read, and watch movies. Am I turning into a slob, or pursuing my interests? Will it be acceptable to spend the rest of my life on that beach from The Beach reading life-changing novels and meeting handsome men?

Things I have suddenly decided I want to do:
Ride a pastel pink scooter down Brisbane Water Drive to KFC Woy Woy
Go to Thailand and read on the beach with intermittent dips in the water for six months
Hire a camel in Tangiers and ride it to the pyramids.



*before Courtney Love's hitman shoved a gun in his hand and blew his head off  ¶ 15:14 0 Comments

  I realised I had stayed in bed this morning reading my new book for too long when my roommate cranked her Indonesian church un-music to a new disgusting loudness. I call it un-music due its forced and unnecessary existence, its existence that was never meant to be, an existence so sinister that only sinister forces could have put that CD into production. "Jesus, Worthy is your name..." Its time to relaunch the infamous Bjork's Greatest Hits campaign on them.

The weather was beautiful so I decided to wear a sarong with a singlet top and thongs out. I may as well have walked through Dong Bie naked. When I went shopping with Jessie and her friends, one of them tried on a shoulder-revealing top and they all giggled and said "oooh I won't dare, I won't dare!" Combine that with my Kending tan and a cigarette, and you've got the dirtiest, sluttiest, most "meat-selling" wench in Taiwan! It doesn't take much to feel rebellious here.

  ¶ 18:03 0 Comments

  "My name is Nikki but all my friends call me Coco... Every morning when I open my eyes I wonder what I can do to make myself famous. It's become my ambition, almost my rasion d'etre, to burst upon the city like fireworks." Its universal truths like these that make you fork out for a book! Its from Shanghai Baby.

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  May's Madness

May opened her eyes to the white ceiling above her, the transparent specks of last night's mascara gliding across her eyeballs like pucks on an air hockey table, each blink another strike which sent it gliding in another direction. She spectated for five minutes while her mind set to work listing all the things she would have to think about today. Was George really who she thought he was? Would she ever know? There were too many hints, too many silent moments between them, to classify it as a mere possibility. May was waiting for the truth, or waiting to learn there was no truth, so that she could determine whether she had gone mad or not. The occassional look in George's eyes which said there was a part of him she didn't know that was scared, serious, or angry. "Do you agree with what the professor says?" asked George. The madness that had long ago staged a massive coup over Betty's imagination told her that George was asking a serious question and that she needed to answer it carefully or at least vaguely. "Its not what he says, its the way he says it... Its just not professional," replied May.

May read somewhere that when people form conspiracy theories, they find them hard to shake off because every new incident is interpreted as a new piece of evidence supporting the theory. May tried everyday to forget what her overactive imagination was trying to convince her of. Often for weeks at a time she succeeded in shaking it, but then another unsual reaction from George would set her off again.

George was in no way mysterious but there was something about his manner that suggested his experiences over the years may have been different to those he had talked about. Even as she consciously filtered from her mind what was only imagined out of what was real, there remained a gut instinct, independant from her imagination, that told her George was not all he said he was. It was this instinct with which she allowed herself to feel comfortable and sane. Never ever would she dismiss the possibility, even if she wanted to, as it had grown too strong.   ¶ 16:33 0 Comments

  Where is Easter? I gave each of my roommates a couple of little chocolate eggs from the bag Kim sent me (you legend) and they had no idea what was going on. There is no easter here!!! Worse yet, no Creme Eggs. Back at Gossy in Year 11 we used to make multiple trips per lunchtime to the canteen just to gorge on Creme Eggs. Can someone please send me a Creme Egg? The first person to send me a creme egg gets a... Moon Cake.
Yours' sincerely,
Gretel

Oh another thing about Christianity here is that most of the locals at uni thought Christmas eve was Western New Year's. I was wondering why the church bells on campus were dinging off a count-down to twelve on Christmas eve... I thought to myself, wow Christmas really goes off here! But it turns out they had their Western traditions all in a fuzz and on Dec 31 noone knew jack.

Other Updates.

The Passion is supposed to be all about Jesus' suffering. Or, more specifically, about which tools they used to tear chunks of skin out of his back and sides, exposing his rib cage, and about how after nailing him to the cross, flipping it over to let him feel the pressure of it pressing into the wounds and the holes in his hands, to hammer the ends of the nails securely sideways while his legs were bent so that he couldn't use them to stand up and take the pressure from his hands. Whoever was in charge of executions back then had a seriously disturbed childhood. I mean if you want someone dead just kill them.   ¶ 15:44 0 Comments

  The most exciting thing to happen today was discussing which text book we want to study after we finish the current one. We're all dying to say "Everyone shut up, I want to do this one, so we are going to do it" instead of beating around the bush and training for future careers in diplomacy: "Oh well I see the merits in both Business Chinese and the Folk Tales books and it would be ideal to consider the level of vocabulary and grammar in each and our reasons for studying Chinese...." Compared to those who didn't really care, those who are more determined to get their choice were more prone to feeling nervous about an impending disagreement, I mean that's natural but I noticed some people look like they are about to have a nervous breakdown contemplating how they are going to politely tell everyone what they want to study. Flashback from every year of my life: "Liz you think too much."

So why am I crapping on about this? Well, it all comes down to how frustrated I get when I don't see the point in maintaining such a high level of politeness over what kind of Chinese we're going to be studying for the NEXT 6 WEEKS (that's all that's left). But I guess we have the comfort of others to think about though. It gets me everytime. And you have to be as polite as the most polite person in the room. Being around the Les Mademoiselles is so easy. In my class there are two Japanese ladies, a Japanese guy about my age, and an American guy.   ¶ 15:06 0 Comments

  I had my first piano lesson today... Its pretty complicated. You have to have your hand in a special position all the time and do everything in a certain way blah blah. Cute Teacher Guy is nice. A fine arts student. He wanted the equivalent of $AU4 per lesson, what a nutter, because he know what he's doing and he's good. Now he thinks I'm a nutter for paying him $8. Whatever.

I had a stress attack this morning. I woke up comtemplating skipping both classes, then decided to go but get an extra half hour and come late. Oh that's right, I saw Passion of the Christ last night. It was boring, disgusting, and bitchy (towards those Jewish men who dragged him in). I was forced to go to scripture lessons in the secular school that was Epping Heights Primary, so I already know what happened - I've pretty much seen it all before. The only new stuff was the emphasis on the circumstances in which the Roman official agreed to the execution... only because the Jews manipulated the crowd and questioned his loyalty to the Caesar (chucking a Brutus). It was clear why there is so much controversy. The movie was substance-less except for that part and this is why so many people are questioning the motives for its being made. There was a bit of finger-pointing going on.

The thing is, right, that all this happened 2000 years ago, and by now, I think it would have reached the mythology stage. People are still fighting over stuff that they can't even be certain of now. And even so, what's the point? This is what history does to people.

Hence, I introduce my new tool for world peace. Its called the History Destroying Scheme*. Everyone gets fed an E. While everyone is hugging and making up, someone goes around changing all the titles of bibles etc to Myths from the Middle East and they get moved to the mythology section of the library. Then people get amnesia for a while. I don't know.

Then instead of reading the stories and totally relating to the people in them as if they were reading about themselves, they take it all with a grain of salt and think 'oh, maybe a long time ago one of my ancestors was one of those people, how cool' rather than 'how dare you say that that guy 2000 years ago was not the Messiah, he WAS!' 'No he wasn't, he hasn't come yet, shut up!' And instead they can study the supernatural charisma of assorted weirdos and its hunormous effect on gigantic parts of the world.

You know, 2000 years from now, people could be committing suicide every Sunday morning worshipping that cult leader who believed aliens were coming to pick them up anytime now and did a mass suicide with his followers. Everyone thinks he's a nutter now, but everyone could have thought Jesus and Muhammed were nutters back then too. Now look! People are waking up at four in the morning to read the books that may or may not have been written by a nutter and his fellow nuttees.

Think about Medusa. Maybe there was some chick who hated brushing her hair so it turned into dreadlocks. Then she refused to have sex with some a**hole, became totally persecuted beyond belief due to his powerful position, called a slut, people said her hair looked like snakes, and there you have it, history turned into myth. So would you go to war over what colour her hair was? Or whether she was born in a tree or a cave... It doesn't involve beliefs though so its neither a crispy nor delectable expample. But the drift is there and I get it.

*not an anarchist for all those imaginary government agents out there :-)  ¶ 16:09 0 Comments

  I went into the office today to whinge to the ladies that I was feling tired. So I had my third experiment with Chinese medecine. This type was about rubbing a wooden comb onthe shoulders with some vaseline type stuff to release the heat and humidity from the body. Apparently I had heaps. It hurt a bit. So did the pressure points thing that I had in the car to Kaohsiung. Chinese medecine seems to be all about pain. The foot massage hurt like hell. Apparently the Chinese don't consider what we feel to be pain as pain, they consider it more as a strange qi guai kind of feeling.   ¶ 13:52 0 Comments

  Kending.
We stayed at a hotel opposite Sail Rock, hired scooters... I showed them my out of date triangle cut out of top suspended Australian driver's license and said it worked for motorbikes too. We went on a beautiful drive up to a surfing beach called Jia Le Shui. The French girls aren't really into the beach. They think having sand all over your legs is dirty. I also discovered they are kind of vulgar, every second word is putin, merde, salloppe... I think my French really improved in Kending. They like to eat in style though.

The weather was good on Sunday. I sunbaked with Elisabeth then hitchhiked to Gaohsiung. Hitchhiking is funny here because people driving in the opposite direction turn around to stop and ask you where you're going out of curiosity. People just stop to save you face. So anyway this old couple took me on a scenic drive along the south west coast and up to Lin Yuan where I got a bus to Gaohsiung. There were more beaches and this part of Taiwan is alot different to the rest of it. It was beautiful.

On Saturday night we snuck into an R&B party on the beach which was lame but I ended up staying till the sun rose and talking to this guy who was suffering an anxious come down and saying that half the people on the beach were undercover cops which may have been true but at 5 in the morning would they really bother? So anyway he used to be part of a cult and his Chinese was native speaker level. He just kept shaking and panting and sweating and I felt bad for him.



  ¶ 18:10 0 Comments

  The new General Manager of the Sydney Uni student union is the father of the editor of Honi Soit, a publication that can bag the union out when needed. Its good they got rid of the last one though. Hiring a yuppie bimbo PR professional was kind of strange... paying someone a salary so we students feel less ripped off when we pay her salary. Its just a union for goodness' sake. A retail organisation that holds a monopoly over the campus of what, 20 000 students, an organisation that holds regular tea parties for students keen the learn what it is like to feel the frustration of the bureaucracy that is ultimately run by paid professionals. I will probably delete this later.

Last year one of the board directors suggested they give all the committee members a special internet password to access the minutes of past meetings online, from the union website. I remembered how transparency had been a popular issue during the board elections, so saw it fit to suggest they make them available to every member of the union. After all, every member pays a lot of money to walk onto campus each year, and what does the word union mean anyway? The old union hands there were once again freaked out by my honesty. Bu xing, bu xing, that will not do! They seemed particularly concerned about the minutes of useless committee meetings being available for all to see, being vulnerable to the inevitable criticism they will receive. If it isa union, how could there be anything wrong with being criticised by the people for whom they are supposed to be working? Give us your three hundred bucks and shut up... we have our resumes to think about!

Then they keep screaming that anyone is welcome at a committee meeting, well knowing that noone is going to bother unless they knew exactly what was going on. If you want to know exactly what is said in a meeting, you need to first contact the special archivist lady who keeps all the minutes locked away in some top secret file somewhere. Transparency my buttocks!

In the introductions in the first meeting I attended, I told them that a lot of people didn't like the union and that we should do things to change that. I didn't mean hire a PR bimbo, I meant there was something terribly wrong with the union and we had to fix it. It didn't go down well, even though the criteria for becoming a voting committee member was having fresh ideas etc. Maybe all they wanted were people who wanted to get the getting-involved experience and have a free sun-dried tomato sandwich with a big glass of o.j. a couple of times each semester, choosing to raise or not raise their hand every time the PR lady or the graphic designer or whoever makes a suggestion. Or perhaps it was my failure to know beforehand that my natural trains of thought were not welcome in the club and in fact all that had been said about new ideas and energy had been the language of a few delusional board members hanging on to a distant dream.

http://digest.idmedia.org.au/2004/1april.htmlhttp://digest.idmedia.org.au/2004/1april.html



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