Allegory of the Cave

Obviously, I haven't been posting much lately. It's been a rough month after everything that happened during production of the film and afterwards. I suppose it's all forced me to re-evalute... everything. What I thought I wanted, what I thought we were doing, what I thought was happening. But I guess in hindsight everything turned out to be quite different... perception and reality.

My experiences as of late remind me of Plato's Allegory of the Cave. In this famous parable, a cave is inhabited by "prisoners", who are chained to their seats and forced to watch a wall in front of them. Behind the prisoners is a fire and people, whose shadows are cast on the wall for the prisoners to see. The sounds of the people behind the prisoners echo in the cave. Since the prisoners can only see the wall and hear the echoes, they believe that the shadows and sounds are the only reality -- there is nothing else -- only the shadows and echoes. They have no concept of what could be creating the shadows.

The story continues and the prisoners are eventually freed from their shackles. For the first time they would now see the fire and the people behind. But they would not recognize them as real because they had never experienced the people before -- only the shadows. They would still believe the shadows to be more real. Even looking at the fire would temporarily blind the prisoners and they would choose to turn back to the shadows on the wall because it's what they know and are comfortable with.

Finally however, Plato suggests that if the prisoners were dragged out of the cave and into the sunlight they would eventually have to face reality. It might take a long time for them to acclimate, but eventually they would see more and more things around them and then they would understand "reality."

But of course, this all leads to a whole lot of questions about what would happen to the prisoners once released. Won't they suffer in learning the "truth?" Might they be happy living in ignorance in the cave? Or maybe even when faced with the facts, they would be incapable of dealing with it.

I'm trying to keep everything that happened last month in perspective, but I keep thinking about the Allegory of the Cave. And in some strange and twisted way it feels like a parallel to what's happened to me recently. Especially in the context of "shadows" and "echoes" and our experience shooting the film inside Changi Hospital. I feel like a refugee of the cave.... I've experienced something outside the realm of the cave... and I want to share the experience... but it will be impossible to convince those remaining in the cave of my experience, because it is something they themselves have never experience. It's frustrating and frightening and makes me sometimes wish I'd never left the dark cave. But even though the people in the cave don't believe what I've experienced... it doesn't make it any less real.

Online Fiasco

After everything now this.

My Facebook was tapped into and someone played a really sick joke. I'm struggling to hold back, but for now I'm choosing to take a step back and not name names or point fingers. But the damage is done and I'm afraid my own reputation has been tarnished.

I learned a very difficult lesson and I know I lost some more friends over this. Can things get any worse? I hope not. So, as you may have figured, I panicked and cut off everything and closed down for a while. I needed a break anyway, especially after everything that's happened in the past few weeks. Problem is, I have no idea what to do next.

Guilt Ridden

I can't help but feel this overwhelming sense of guilt for what happened with Andrew. That maybe if we'd been on good terms, I'd have stopped the him and Audi from going back to OCH again; after all they didn't have permission this time. I played my part in this, and if things had been different... I just wish the were different.

I'm resorting to writing this post, in the hopes that forcing myself to organize my thoughts and to logically recognize what has happened will make me pull myself together. It's not really working. I'm just reading back and wondering how I could possibly sound so cold and detached about a friend. Some things just don't translate. I need to pull myself together; someone needs to keep the project going. No more filming, but something needs to be done with what we've already finished, to complete our project.

But not just yet. I'm only human. It hasn't really sunk in yet. I need time. I know it will all pass. Things will eventually work out.

Sickened

There's a scene in Initial D, the movie, when Jay Chou's character discovers some very unpleasant truths about the girl he likes, and in that moment, he runs away and speeds off in his car, a mixture of rage, betrayal, disappointment and an edge of disbelief. I now know how he feels.

For the past few months, I dedicated my life to this non-paying project, working on passion alone and the belief in Andrew's vision that this project will be successful. For months, I fought with my parents, who couldn't understand why I wasn't looking for a good stable job, why I had to run off for shoot on Lunar New Year Eve and why I've been experiencing bouts of depression. All that based on that faith. And now that faith has been betrayed.

Audi came along with me to check on Andrew today. He had, again, gone MIA, refusing to answer his calls or emails. Perhaps Audi suspected something might happen, maybe he was in the know all along. He just wanted to come along and film the whole sordid thing.

We found Andrew in a complete mess. The editing suite was disgusting, dark and damp like a cave of rotting things. He didn't look much better. Clearly he wasn't well; he seemed feverish and a little delirious. Or perhaps that was just the alcohol.

In short, we had a big fight. I ran out, my way blurry with tears, and the anguish, the betrayal, the disbelief that my friend of so very many years just uses women like tools and I'm just one of them, literally made my chest ache.

All that time I worked so hard on this project, getting permission, convincing sponsors, managing logistics, and he's just busy chasing tail! What's more, it doesn't even look like he did ANYTHING more to the documentary.

Never before have I felt more alone being the only girl in the group. There's no one I can talk to about this. The guys just don't understand, and I'm sure they're probably high-fiving one another about what a stud Andrew is and what an overreacting psycho prude I am. Well, screw that. I'm out.

Measure Of A Man

It's so incredibly lame and Pavlovian, but apparently it works. The trite "sex sells" school of thought is still alive and well in advertising, and any kind of male-oriented activity that couldn't be improved by having some scantily clad female of questionable morals draped over it.

I logged onto my Facebook today and was invited to some poker group by some girl I don't know. Clicked on the site and on her profile and nearly barfed all over my keyboard. Please, tone down on the sexploitation. Seeing your prepubescent tits squeezed from AA to B does not make me want to cry "All in!" and shove my chips forward. It just makes me wonder where are the kiddy porn police when you need them.

It does make me wonder what kind of men would actually go and participate in that event. Are they all single desperate geeks whose closest encounter with Actual Boobs (tm) were during their breastfeeding stages? Are they "normal" men who just tell their girlfriend they're going for a poker game and leave out the fact that there are going to be little girls dressed like Geylang sluts sauntering around the place? (And I'm assuming they're just sauntering around the place; who knows if they throw in extra services.)

It makes me sick. And for as long as I'm a producer, I will never ever resort to this low and tawdry form of marketing. What are we, animals?

It's not so much sour grapes (since I'm single) but cynicism steeped in a boatload of evidence that leads me to think that maybe relationships are overrated. What's the point? You care for someone, you do so much for them, and they go chasing after some random slutty girl who appears on their radar. All your sacrifice, all your love and care means nothing. Apparently the only way to get a man appears to be tossing any self-respect and dignity out the window and impersonating a blow-up doll. It doesn't even matter if you can't communicate in the same language, because clearly talking isn't a priority for men. Better yet if you don't talk at all, since clearly they've got their lives together, so your input, no matter how well-intended, is just nagging anyway.

Call me old-fashioned, but I still believe in a Prince Charming, an honest, righteous, loyal man who takes responsibility for his actions, means what he says, and doesn't lead you around like you're some naive, love-struck schoolgirl if he has no intention of ever being with you. A man who respects women and doesn't use them like they're nothing more than tools.

I try not to judge men who fall short of this ideal, because as things go, it's pretty darn obvious that very very very few men measure up to it. But I can't help it, I do. When I see jerks who use women, who brag about their conquests, who look so damn smug about hooking up with some girl, I look down on them, I don't consider them to be friends, and I hope they contract some STD that will make their pride and joy turn black and fall off.

Maybe that might mean I'll remain single for a long time to come. That's ok. I'd rather be single than to settle for some jerk who will just break my heart, flirting with other women on Facebook, going for "poker tournaments" and conveniently leaving out the sluts that come along, telling me all these lovely things then going behind my back and saying the same things to some other girl. I mean, what's the point of being in a relationship if you don't respect your partner? If you claim she's the only one and you go behind her back? Men complain about women being paranoid, possessive psychos, but when you're the one acting all secretive and suspicious, you have no bloody right to blame us. No one likes to be made a fool of. If the tables were turned, you wouldn't be happy either, would you?

It does make me wonder what's the point of being in a relationship? Unless the both of you meet when you're in your 80s, have a few happy days together and die, the likelihood of getting your heart broken at some point by the person who claims to love you is much too strong. All the long walks on the beach are not enough for the tears and pain. Give someone the keys to your heart and they're just going to rob you blind of your emotions.

And as much as I'd like to blame the "other woman", truth is, often they have no clue. Or if they do, then they're the boyfriend/husband-stealing monsters who deserve all the crap heaped upon them. But the onus is really on the boyfriend/husband. You have no excuse. You know what you're doing is wrong. The fact that you choose to continue shows what a scumbag you are and just how little respect you have for your partner. And when the day comes and you get found out, I hope you get to feel all of the pain and betrayal you have caused your partner. All the mental anguish she felt while she kept second guessing her instincts, wondering if she was going insane and trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. If you can't commit, then don't. DON'T LIE. I'm sure she could do MUCH better than you. Don't tie her to your mediocre, insecure, cheating ass.

And ladies, have some self-respect. Walk away. It is better to be alone than with someone who doesn't really love you. You're worth much more than that.

Drained

I've not felt so exhausted in a very long time. It's not physical tiredness, I'm just sick and tired of this project.

Nothing sucks more than having your efforts blow up in your face, when you get told off for something you did and you never expected such a reaction to follow. So, screw that, I'm not going to do anything else to publicize the stupid film.

Too extreme? I don't think so. Getting yelled at on Facebook and berated by a bunch of thumb-sucking cyber bullies on some tabloid style website and getting my reputation tainted by this whole thing is about as unpleasant as it gets. So cut it out, before it infects the rest of you.

I'm just so emotionally drained. I can't even find the energy to get angry or upset. I'm just numb. And tired. I feel like I want to sleep and never wake up again. Maybe after everyone else dies and goes to hell. I'm sick of compromising myself for other people. You aren't worth it.

Question Of Motivation

Yesterday we went to watch the night footage we took on 15 Feb, last Saturday. Which, as I found out from Matthew, a friend from Facebook, was the anniversary of the day the Japanese invaded during WWII.

Not all of us went though, Farid was still bedridden. Audi and I are still sick, but not as bad as that. Andrew's the only one who still seems all hyper and enthusiastic, which makes me want to smack him, because for all that energy, he couldn't have picked up a bloody phone?!

Anyway. My mood didn't improve after watching the footage either. He found something "interesting" in a particular shot and chose to torture me with it. We'd been filming in this particular room that had made me feel very uncomfortable, and I told the guys in no uncertain terms I wanted out. And it was the shot in that room that showed something shadowy behind me. I freaked out when I saw that footage, and I was on the verge of tears, but the two of them just dismissed it as a trick of the light, and went on talking as if nothing happened.

I guess we've all been friends long enough that they've forgotten that I'm a girl. It doesn't help that I try to tough it out, to be one of the guys. But somehow yesterday, maybe it was the flu, maybe I was just not myself, but I was so shaken by what I saw that I nearly broke down, and no one gave a damn. I was so scared I just wanted to stand in bright sunshine and hope that it would cleanse me. I know it sounds incredibly girly and selfish of me, but I just wanted someone to ask if I was ok, and neither of them did. From Andrew's post on the production blog, it's pretty clear that my reaction on that night and yesterday were nothing more than "interesting". It's almost as though I'm nothing more than some character in a film he's directing. I can't believe he even has the cheek to post pictures of me looking freaked out.

I'm literally sick of this project. And since we don't have filming for the next few days, I'm taking a break and spending some time doing my own stuff, like looking for another gig, spending some time with my family and friends. Well, friends who care, anyway.

Dead Or Alive

I feel like a debt collector. Since Sunday, day after our night exploration, Valentine's Day, first day of Chinese New Year, I've been trying to reach Andrew by almost every possible channel in our modern lives to no avail. I called, SMSed, emailed, Facebooked, and am contemplating more old school methods like fax, snail mail and just banging down his door.

So if anyone has any clue where he's disappeared to, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. It's not like him to go MIA like this. For that matter, ANDREW, if you're reading this, call me!

Since the night exploration, things have been a little odd. Andrew's gone MIA, Audi and Farid are sick, and I'm, well, I'm starting to feel a little under the weather now too. Hopefully things will stop being weird soon, because we still have a lot to do.

After skipping out on my parents for reunion dinner, things have been a little frosty between us. We still went visiting on day one, even though I was falling asleep every time I was stationary for more than a minute and having disturbing dreams each time. My relatives, bless their kaypoh souls, alternated between my career choice, how pale my face looked, and why I was still an unwanted spinster. Family. Gotta love them.

Thankfully, my cousins pulled the annual movie watching experience, so my entire generation trooped off to watch Percy Jackson & The Lightning Thief at GV Vivocity. I'm sure it was a great show. At least, what I caught of it was great. I got lulled to sleep by the plush, cushiony seats and even the Dolby Surround system couldn't snap me out of it.

So now, it's Thursday, and normal people have gone back to work by now. We ought to be too, except with Farid bed-ridden, Audi barely able to talk without snot flying out of his nose, and Andrew pulling a Copperfield, I'm not sure what's going to happen. Ah well. I'm just going to stick to the schedule as much as possible and keep doing my job.

Out Of Focus

What do you do if someone is in distress? Because what you do then makes it very clear what you feel about that person.

As planned, we went back to OCH on Saturday night, Taoist priest in the lead. He did a ritual, underwent an interview, and left us, shaking his head at our madness. I was already freaked out enough about having to go back at night, and getting into an argument with my parents just before I left didn't help matters. It's just a dinner; we eat together all the time. What's the big deal about reunion dinner anyway? It's not like the whole clan is there.

The ghost hunters came as planned. Except they brought a child with them, which I didn't expect. I really don't know what they were thinking, bringing a kid to a place like this, and I completely didn't blame him for getting upset. I would, if I was faced with a creepy looking place like that.

So when Andrew had his bright idea, I really wasn't keen on playing along, but I did in the end, because I always do. And while I can't remember exactly what happened, I just know that Audi and I had never been so scared in our entire lives, nor have I ever run so fast, despite the slippery floors and the broken glass.

But what stuck with me was how Andrew reacted. I mean, I know he's focused on the project, but for crying out loud, I'm running out of there, hysterical, and I've NEVER done that before in my life, and he couldn't find it in himself to just comfort me for one moment? And instead talks about how I might have frightened some China girl who was living there? And as we were all busy getting out of there, he actually sticks around to look for that girl, to make sure we didn't scare her? Seriously, if you're going to stay in a place like OCH, you bloody deserve to be scared to death.

I guess Saturday night proved what his priorities are. Clearly I'm not part of them, since he won't answer my calls, emails and SMSes for the whole of today. Whatever, I'm too exhausted to care right now.

Unseeing The Seen

We all popped into the editing suite yesterday to see the footage we shot at OCH last weekend. And after that, I made a call and invited a Taoist priest to join us on Saturday night, before the night shoot. Thankfully, he's my aunt's friend, and with a lot of begging, he agreed to do it, even though it's reunion dinner night.

Yes, as in Chinese New Year reunion dinner night. Farid and Audi, for obvious reasons, had no issue with it, but it took much finagling to get my parents off my back about it. Andrew just laughed that great belly laugh of his and said his folks didn't mind. Ah well. Actually, I was more worried about our interviewees; we're getting members of this paranormal investigation group to come down, and THAT took much finagling as well.

So what did I see? Honestly, nothing that couldn't be explained away, technically. But, there were a couple of things that just made me feel uneasy. I know shadows and an overactive imagination can play a big part, but even rationalizing things out couldn't calm my nerves. And we're going back. At night. FML.

It doesn't help that as we pursue this documentary, we keep hearing creepier and creepier stories about the place. One of my friends mentioned on my Facebook that he saw a little boy with glowing red eyes. AAARGH.

I'm not certain whether the place is genuinely creepy, or if it's really just a product of my imagination.

Fear Factor

Yesterday we explored OCH. In the day, thankfully. Not wasting any time once we got permission. But all the elation I felt on getting permission disappeared the second I saw the building on the hill and the leaf- and litter-covered staircase leading up to it. It lurked over the chalets like some grim, disapproving old man, daring the kids to trespass on its property.

I don't want to give too much away, but its reputation is well deserved. The place is incredibly spooky. Just in case, I brought along joss paper and incense, which came in a nifty set together with candles and a small packet of tea and biscuity things for just $2. Surprisingly, Audi and Farid were pretty eager to help with the prayers and burning. Andrew was, as expected, skeptical about the whole thing. I'm not really religious, but just because you don't believe in something doesn't mean it can't reach out and hurt you. Like I don't believe in guns, but they'll shoot me just as dead.

In any case, I'd rather just burn some things, say a little prayer, and go around with peace of mind that if there should be "good brothers" around, as the Chinese call them, they may be appeased by our offering and not annoyed at us just crashing through their house.

The place is a maze. From what we've explored of it, it's incredibly confusing and I can imagine it'll be easy to get lost in. And because it's built on a hill, some areas don't make sense; you're on the fifth floor and suddenly it seems as though you're on a ground floor. It really adds to the creepiness, not that it needed help. Some areas were ok, but there were certain rooms where the hair on the nape of my neck literally stood on end. It seemed as though there was a change in the atmosphere, almost.

I'm so not looking forward to next Saturday. We'll be going in at night. We joked that maybe we should get a priest to come in and do a little ritual. Now, I'm flipping through the Yellow Pages looking for one. Better safe than sorry.

Shades Of Grey

The good news: we finally got permission to film in OCH! It'll be one day and one night, as planned, and we'll be doing the day shoot this Saturday, in case they change their minds.

The bad news: I'm starting to feel somewhat...disillusioned, I suppose. Maybe it's just that I'm not experienced. Or maybe I'm naive. I'm just somewhat taken aback and quite quite disappointed in the crew's behaviour.

I guess I can understand why they did what they did. The material we got from our interviewee was amazing, substantial stuff that goes a long way towards building our story. We're talking medical experiments straight out of Fringe, and creepy war stories. And he's not lying, either; he lived through it.

Even then, I'm not certain what we did was right. Do I want that material? Yes. Am I willing to compromise my principles for it? No. But it's not up to me, is it? Democracy; it doesn't always lead to the right decisions.

That said, maybe they are right, and I'm just being silly, clinging on to my textbook principles. After all, I've never done this in real life before; student projects are a whole different thing. And for all that we try to cling on to what's "right", sometimes it just doesn't work all that well in reality. If it wasn't for subterfuge and a quest for the truth, some of the biggest news stories may never have broken. It is our job in the making of this documentary to make sure the truth is depicted. I do wish I could've got it without having to resort to this. But it's a learning point. Maybe I just need to be more charming and persuasive.

All Talk, No Substance

All that work, and not much to show for it. Oh, we've got enough ghost stories to compile a Russell Lee book (is he still at it?), but honestly, I'm not impressed.

And I'm exhausted. Doing vox pops kills a little part of my soul, the part that believes in humans being logical, rational creatures. Not everything is about you, people, not in that way. Get over yourself.

I guess I'm just a little disillusioned because I really want to keep this documentary a documentary. Not some salacious piece of nonsense that people will laugh at. I'm a bit worried that Andrew's happy with the interviews we did today; gonna have to talk to him to make sure this is just a small part of the documentary.

We've got another interview coming up on Wednesday. I'm really hoping it'll add more fact and less fiction. Even after today, I'm still feeling optimistic about this interviewee. I take that as a good sign.

First Cuts

So yesterday we had a preview of the introductory montage to our documentary. I think we all went away all fired up and ready to work on the rest of the project, which is great, because tomorrow we hit the streets to interview people. These are a couple of pictures we'll be using for the montage:

Japanese soldiers marching through Fullerton Square.

Japanese troops guarding prisoners from the British Suffolk Regiment.

From what we've seen so far, I really do think that it's going to be a credible piece of work, despite our angle. If nothing else, even at the end we find out that it's not haunted (hopefully), it will be a solid investigative film that can be taken seriously. If nothing else, this opening would be great for me to show potential investors; indie or otherwise, we still need the funding, and if we can get someone to distribute it for us, that would be one kind of awesome. :) I wonder if we can get Canon in as a sponsor, since Audi insisted (as in throw tantrum, bang table sort of insisted) that we use his Canon 7D camera to film the entire thing. Andrew had his doubts, as did Farid and I, since it's...well, it's an SLR camera. But after watching this and Audi giving us a demo of the 7D's capabilities, we bowed to his superior expertise.

I'm impressed by how the depth of field on that thing and how it can turn the background all creamy, very pro-looking. And since it's so small, Audi just does it all by himself, which makes it so much easier for our very tiny film crew; no need to have grips running around moving the camera. It's great stuff for an indie film like ours, where we don't have the budget or manpower to deal with something bigger and much more expensive. I think it bothers Andrew a little bit though, because he doesn't get to see the framing, so he has to trust Audi with the shots. I'm just gonna let the boys have their little contest. This really isn't my pasah. What I do like about the camera is that it takes great stills too.

Andrew wondering whether Farid and I have gone bananas (hur hur)

A decent shot of me! So rare...

No pictures of Audi because apparently his pictures didn't turn out too nice ("I'm having a bad face day!" he cried as he reviewed the photos), so he refused to send to us. -_- This is what the vainpot looks like

I'm not sure if that's the 7D you see lurking in the second picture, but it's a Canon. That guy has a serious fixation with that brand. Which is good, because it SERIOUSLY helped with my budget, him and Farid coming along with their impressive array of gear.

So tomorrow, we'll be doing our man-on-the-street interviews, also known as vox pops, also known as hell. Singaporeans are weird in this way. Based on previous experience in my uni days, they'll stare at the camera like curious livestock, but stay away and REFUSE to help out. At the same time, they'll keep standing in frame in the background and fouling up the shot. Look, you're either shy or you're not. MAKE UP YOUR MIND. I'm gonna wear my comfortable shoes and bring along my Salonpas spray. It's gonna be a loooooong day.

Get The Ball Rolling

We're off to see the wizard! Well, not exactly. But we are off to see Andrew, who's going to show us the intro montage for the documentary!

I kept tossing and turning like a rotisserie chicken last night and only fell asleep way too late. Didn't help that this morning, some neighbour of mine decided to do home improvement works and kept pounding the floor. It's crappy enough that we have to live in subsidized housing without you making the conditions worse, you anti-social crazy morning person!! Am still questioning my parents decision to move; we didn't have problems like that in our old place, where our flat was on the top floor. And who on earth gets up at 8am in the morning to hammer stuff? Grr...

So now, thanks to my own physiology and my insane neighbour, I'm all bleary-eyed and cranky. Andrew will probably ply me with Milo Dinosaur again, but I'm thinking I need something more. Like a caffeine drip or something. Hopefully the sheer embarrassment of hearing my narration will shock me out of slumberland.

Old And New

Going to the National Archives never fails to depress me a little. It doesn't have much to do with the Archives, but the fact that the old National Library isn't there anymore.

I remember during my uni days I would go to the National Library every so often to do research. It wasn't so much that it was better, but that I preferred the old red brick building. It felt like what a library should feel like, with the smell of the books sunk into the very walls of the place. Now that there's a gaping tunnel where it used to be, I can't recognize the place anymore. Well, that and the fact that there's a spanking new university in the area. Come on man, you can't be a uni kid without making the journey to the West. What's this city campus nonsense? Ah, those were the days. Hell, if SMU was around when I was applying to uni, I probably would've gone there, just because of the location.

I digress. The National Archives is a very strange mix of the old and new. The building, thankfully, isn't new and doesn't feature all that funky glass that all new buildings love. But the tech inside is very up to date. Searching through the archives isn't as painful as it sounds, though it still takes some finagling to get the info you want. Andrew confessed that one of the main reasons he got me to be the producer has to do with the fact that I'm good at research and he isn't. Gee, thanks, boss. I suppose in a way, I'm responsible for that; we used to take a lot of the same classes, and usually did project work together, so while I did the research, he did the execution, be it writing the paper, editing the film, or drawing up the storyboards.Even when we weren't taking the same class, he'd occasionally bribe me with baked goods to get me to find stuff for him.

Well, all that training helped. I managed to find some 16mm films from WWII days. It's unbelievable footage, of the Japanese invading from across the Causeway, that sort of thing. Whoever shot that must've had balls of titanium. Andrew was so ridiculously happy about it he actually picked me up and swung me around. At 1.69m tall and single, I am not accustomed to being picked up, much less swung around. I also found some old photos of Old Changi Hospital, or OCH, as we've taken to calling it. He's going to weave that all into the documentary, to add more credence to it. Important, since we're really going with the haunted angle. -_-

Voicing Out

Today, my job scope was expanded to that of narrator. It was a bizarre experience, with Farid, Audi, and Andrew grinning at me like Halloween came early from the other side of a glass pane and me feeling like an idiot trying to sound "more spooky", as they kept encouraging me to do.

My new goal for this production is to get enough funding to pay for an actual narrator. I sound like a constipated bean with a horrible flu.

Red Tape

I guess there's an excellent reason why "going postal" has ties to both a government body and a very frustrated person snapping and killing everyone. It's amazing how much tai-chi can happen for one simple thing, like finding out who to get permission from. Just give me a name, dammit! What's wrong with you people?!

So getting back into the producing gig hasn't been particularly fun or easy so far. Thankfully Andrew helps out, so I'm not alone. He keeps feeding me Milo Dinosaur whenever I get stressed out about stuff, and it's increasing in frequency. I have a horrible feeling by the end of this, I'll be twice the woman I am now. -_- Still, chilling out with him at the prata shop near his place with a big mug of Milo Dinosaur helps.

The great thing is, our very skeletal crew of just the two of us has expanded. We've gotten Audi to be our camera man and Farid to be our sound guy. We're (ok, I'm) trying to rope them into helping out with production side stuff, but it's actually faster if I just do it myself. Farid told me, "Eh, kak, I tell you what I'm good at. You find one corner for me, and I'll relak in it one kind of good." I didn't know whether to laugh, raise an eyebrow or smack him. Is it considered racist if it's your own race you're making fun of? Having them on board will be...interesting. They're great at what they do, and they're professional when it comes to crunch time, but more often than not, they'll just be goofing off. I'm really not sure what's going to happen when we actually get to shoot on location. REALLY don't need to get the crap scared out of me, I have enough fibre in my food, thank you very much.

I just realized that I haven't exactly revealed what the project we're working on is about. Andrew approached me a couple of months back and said he wanted to do a documentary about old places in Singapore and that he was looking for someone to help produce the film. So we refined the idea, researched more on the topic (which involved way too much cardio from trekking up the hill to the National Archives), and decided to pursue the history of *drumroll* Old Changi Hospital.

At least, that was the original plan. Somehow, Andrew got it in his head that to make the documentary more exciting, that we should put a spin on it and explore the stories of it being haunted. I swear, he did it to annoy me. He knows I absolutely refuse to watch ghost movies because I'm scared of that sort of thing, and now here I am, somehow producing a documentary about the haunted past of Changi. FML. In truth, he has a point; Asians generally do have an obsession with the supernatural, and this should really help our cause in the distribution and funding side of things. But still. Now he wants to film in there. At night. Lagi more FML. I'm almost hoping we can't get permission.