World Cup Fever

I went out to dinner this evening with my students at Shepherd. They are the sweetest peeps; we ate Sichuan at a nice restaurant around the corner. Food was a bit spicy, but dinner was fun all the same. Raymond always tries to drink people under the table. He tries, I guess. We had quite the feast; cow stomach, fish, shrimp, tofu, yam noodles, pumpkin rice cakes. When the bill came, I witnessed price negotiation at its best. My students were surprised to find that small river shrimp cost 78 rmb/lb. After several minutes of back and forth with the restaurant staff, we got a 20 percent discount. Geez, if only I had that kind of tenacity. Even the office director Simon gets DVDs for only 5 kuai. Guess I'm just a sucker.

After dinner, I met up with some friends at Windows downtown to watch Argentina v. Germany, supposedly one of the biggest games of the tourny. I sure as hell wouldn't know; despite its hunks, soccer doesn't appeal to me. So anyway, this Windows place was packed to the seams. It was so fucking hot, and damn, people really get worked up over this shit. Next to me, a young German lady-- who happened to look a lot like Jodie Foster-- was on the verge of tears. She was totally stressed, and her face twitched and trembled-- a breakdown was imminent. The game was ok to watch; unlike American football, at least each play lasts longer than three seconds. And the game seems more straightforward; no first and second downs and all that bullshit. Still, by the end of the second half, I was ready to jet. Especially with German chick on a tightrope next to me. Her anxiety was disturbing. After the supplemental time wrapped, I left.

Poor cabbie couldn't understand my address. I didn't even drink (meaning, no slurred speech). I repeated it for him like four times and then I got really impatient. I mean, come on, I've been living here almost three years. I know how to fucking pronounce my address; don't tell me I say it wrong. Just don't.

Blah, blah. World Cup. Who cares. The big news is Bubbey's coming home tonight. Yay! I guess it's been about seven weeks. Not really that long in the grand scheme of things, but definitely long enough. I've had a my singledom fix and now I'm ready for buddy time. Unfortunately, he's going to be dead tired AND jetlagged, but I'm just glad we'll be together again.

Speaking of pet sitters/boarders, John and I got a good laugh out of this ad which appeared in a Shanghai magazine

Close Call

The night before last, John emailed me: the dog boarding kennel is booked. Two days before his departure, and no one to watch the dogs. For two weeks. I started flipping out.

You see, many boarding facilities in the area have like 150-200 dog runs. In the past, the places just told us to bring the animals; they were never at capacity. Well, bite me in the ass. We forgot about the Independence Day holiday. July 4. Panicked, I stayed up til 3 a.m. that night scrambling for a sitter. We finally found one, thank goodness. R&M man, sandbags of the century. :)

Poor John. As usual, he was again slammed at work with meetings all that day. Plus, he was especially unnerved about having to can two people. First time as the doer, rather than the watcher. I imagine firing someone is very difficult. You think about the impact, not just on the individual but their loved ones, their family. It's not easy. And John was tormented despite the facts. These people are so aggravating though. I understand that work blows. I've been there-- depressed and disgruntled. But still, do your damn work. You can have a bad attitude; you can use up all your sick leave or whatever. But don't be an asshole. Likely you're not saving the world or anything, so please, just get your shit done. That's what you're paid to do. I mean, it's that simple. If you're not productive, why should you continue drawing a paycheck? It's not rocket science. Wtf, man. Get with the program.

So, John's a nice guy and he was losing sleep over having to do this. Damn fuckers. I mean, there are plenty of people who want to make a decent living. If these bastards are unhappy and unproductive, they've got to go. It's no one's fault but theirs. They've made the conscious decision not only to slack ass, but also to be jerks. So screw it. They were asking for it. I know, I sound harsh but Bubbey comes first. Stop making his life so complicated and difficult. He's not a goddamn babysitter. The job isn't supposed to be 'round the clock crisis management; it's supposed to be project management, development, and planning. Jesus Christ.

So anyway, surprise surprise: John's gonna have to work while he's here. But hopefully he'll get some rest.

Friend or Foe

Today was the last day of class. All of about four students showed. I've finally decided to forgo the final exam (this Monday). Yeah, I could still study for it, and technically John would still be jetlagged, but eh, why bother. I've learned loads and honestly, now just isn't the time for proving myself or whatever.

So anyway, our final reading class ended up just being a chat session. Long story short, I received two very blatant clues suggesting that I'm now officially an old, pruny hag. First clue? My teacher asked how many kids I have. Uh, hello? Do I look like a goddamn mother to you? Jesus. Then my nemesis, it turns out, is tiger (same as my brother); she's 32. When she heard that I was 30, she about fell out of her chair. "What??? I'm older than you? I thought you were 36 or 37!" Yup? Can you believe the audacity of this beotch? Me? Mid 30's? I mean, yeah I haven't exactly been looking my best lately, but damn, why don't you just call me a senior citizen already! Wtf, man?

So teach started asking me what I do here in Shanghai. I explained that I freelance and also volunteer for various organizations. In the following class (listening), Nemesis actually made the effort to converse with me. I tried to give off that standoffish, snobby body language but I guess it didn't deter her. So turns out, she knows about SCAA AND she wants to foster a dog. That got me going on Sandy, my current foster dog. My ayi said today that Sandy looks like a trampy, dirty dog (even though I washed her); clearly, Wu Ayi is not a fan. But seriously, Sandy is the easiest dog ever. I guess after living in an outdoor pen for so long, she's totally independent. Just sleeps and drinks. Hardly even eats. But absolutely no whining, whimpering, chewing... and she hasn't had a single bathroom accident. Un-fucking believable. I guess the "Angels on Earth" award is totally up for grabs now. Remy and Martin may no longer hold the prize... Yeah, Sandy took a couple days to stop her constant shaking/trembling (she was so frightened), and she initially frustrated me with her collar/leash shenanigans. But now? She NEVER pulls on the leash. This is what walking a dog is supposed to be like, man. So anyhow, I'll have her until the day after John arrives, unless he's keen on keeping her awhile longer. Probably not a good idea if I actually get the packers to come take our shit July 4 or 5. But back to Nemesis. Yeah, she's all keen on checking out Sandy; we even exchanged mobile numbers. Ugh, so now I'm in this awkward gray zone. I mean, I don't pretend to be a forgiving person. For sure, I judge (on others' actions, of course) and man, if I think you're a lesser human being, I really won't give you the time of day. I know, sounds totally elitist, but sorry, I have a lot of friends and I don't really need to bulk up my posse (haha!) with mediocre characters, you know? Yeah, sounds totally harsh but look, I got standards and expectations. And in the case of Nemesis, her past actions really made me dislike her. I still think she's a ridiculous person, but for the sake of Sandy, perhaps something can be arranged? I don't know. I mean, will she be responsible? She's pretty studious; I just think she's rude. So maybe that means she won't scoop the shit... sucks to be her neighbor... See my dilemma? Ugh. And now I have to invite her to my house to see the dog. Pretend to play nice. Eye roll. I don't know how else to explain. All semester long, she's just really rubbed me the wrong way. Anyone else want to foster Sandy? She's the sweetest thing, I swear...

A Bite, Finally!

Hurray! Just got a call from California! I know, it's only 7:30 in the morning here in Shanghai, but who cares, SOMEONE is interested in my job application! I applied for a part-time grant writer position at a domestic violence shelter in San Mateo... The position is open immediately, but the director said she didn't want to rule me out just because I wasn't yet in town. So, we're going to arrange a phone interview. What a relief. I've gone weeks now without any positive response, so hopefully this is just the beginning.

Philanthropic Extravagance

Well thanks to Lainey, I just wasted an hour watching Posh & Becks World Cup Party, ten episodes in all. Hey, we all have our addictions, and I'm the first to pipe up: I'm soooo the e-news junkie. Almost wish I could be like Lainey. Grant writer by day, gossip columnist by night. She's moving up the entertainment news ladder too. Just got a gig on Canadian tv, as an e-news reporter. Good for her!

So yeah, I totally ate that Becks World Cup party shit up. Yes, totally overblown and extreme and disgustingly extravagant... Even so, I can't say I was all that surprised; we're talkin' lives of the rich and famous. No kiddie games there. I should say that the party was actually a charity shindig. Who can argue about the cause? Raised several mil easy. In one frickin' night. Apparently, the secret's all about melding indulgence and philanthropy. So counterintuitive and yet so amazingy effective.

Anyway, more important is Victoria. Everyone has an opinion about Posh. I've never really heard her speak so no comment there. Also, I was never a big fan of Spice Girls... Beauty-wise, I thought Vicky was beautiful back in her SG days. Unfortunately, she's done all kinds of crazy shit to herself since: the cantalope, Pam Anderson boobs; the hair extensions; the acrylic nails; the pumped-up lips... it's all just too much. An absolute shame, because from the video, she actually seems to have a personality.

My take on David? I've never been a soccer fan, so his stats mean nothing to me. Still, I read plenty about his alleged trysts and well, you know my issue with infidelity. It triggers a very hot button.

In happier times... at Tairyo, celebrating my 30th

Unlimited food and sake... the secret behind big smiles

The crew

Closer view. I guess it stopped burning after hitting the metal on the CRT.

View from the top. See? Like I said, a huge fucking hole! Next to the hole is my Leatherman micra. The same one that sliced Mr. Zhang's finger. Also the same one that jabbed my thumb. I should add that my ayi gave me that boat/ship music box-- it's supposed to bring good luck (smooth sailing). Also, note the roll of white tape mangled earlier this month by Ozzie.

Plastic Melts, Duh!

Shit. Three weeks before the big move and what do I do? Burn a fucking hole on the top of the television. Jesus Christ. I'm a goddamn freak. This is what happens when you operate on just a few hours of sleep and then decide to foster a shelter dog. So I tell the organizers of this animal welfare volunteer org that I'm moving next month, and I want to foster a dog but please give me one that's well-behaved and non-destructive. Well, the one I got is quiet enough, except that she doesn't walk on a leash. And she doesn't eat. So I end up having to carry her to go outside. And then while outside, whenever I tug the leash, she flips out and cries. I know, clearly she's got issues and I just need to be patient. Patience is what a budding dog sitter/trainer must have.

So, I decided to keep her company by working out in the living room last night, instead of under the protection of my bed tent. It had just poured and thundered outside, so the air was nice and breezy. Unfortunately, that also meant the mosquitos were out. Well long story short, I used a mosquito coil. I propped it up with its metal/foil stand and put a thick plastic lid (I know, I know) underneath to catch the dust. Normally, I put the coil in a stainless steel bowl, but that was now being used for dog food and water. Well, just so happened that this particular evening, I opted for double coils. I wasn't thinking. Plain ands simple. To make matters worse, my nose is dead. I can't smell jack. And if I do ever get a faint scent of anything, I assume it's coming through my neighbor's vent. Yeah, that's biting me in the ass now.

This morning, I wake up and what do you know? There's a huge fucking hole on the top of the tv. Yes, I should have thought. But I didn't. And yes, I know: should have, would have, could have. Please. Spare me. So I just searched through all the for sale ads in town. No televisions. Guess people don't buy them anymore. I just spent 20 minutes scraping off the plastic from the lid. Jabbed my thumb with the Leatherman. Day is starting off just great. So I guess there's nothing to do. It's a shit old tv, not really worth shit but I have a conscience. I'll have to tell the landlord. Guess he can deduct something from the deposit. Or I may call maintenance, see if someone can melt a plastic patch there? Shit, I dunno. Now I have to drag the dog outside and look like a dog abuser (in addition to being a moron). Lovely. When John finds out, he's really gonna wonder about the woman he married.

Meathead

Well the HSK was this morning, and I really think I tanked. Boo hoo. The oral section was ok, and the others would have been better if I were a stronger reader. Fuck, shit, crap, man! Clearly, this exam means I still have a SUPER LONG way to go. Yeah, I know, this whole thing was just an exercise, a sort of self-assessment... as anticipated, I turned it into something totally stressful. Now it's over. Time for me to let go: I've kept up with school and learned a ton this semester, so that's the best I can do. This language learning shit just takes time. I just hope I keep at it after I go... Btw, anyone realize the date? Jesus, June 18 already! Countdown to California! Holy shit. Really down to the wire: people are planning farewell parties and shit. What a bummer. I need to find myself a kickass job... HELP!!

Randomly, while I was surfing the web trying to figure out the general gist of the HSK (in English, please), I bumped into info about the FSWE (Foreign Service Written Exam). Apparently, the State Department is recruiting folks with Mandarin skills. Of course to complicate matters, they don't measure Mandarin proficiency via the HSK. No, they use some Interagency Language Roundtable (ILR) Scale. What the fuck? If level 2 speaking proficiency is all they require, that doesn't seem so bad. Not that I would seriously consider working for the government (especially the current despot and company), but well there is something appealing about traveling the world and getting paid to go through intensive language training. Still, I'm not about to put myself in the middle of a warzone. Supposedly the assignments work like this: two years in a safe, workable place; two years in a warzone. Two years in a so-so place; two years in paradise. If I had the guts to live in a warzone though, I'd be with some humanitarian aid organization. Screw the US government and politics.

Oh well, doesn't matter: I'm becoming a meathead anyway. This gym thing, man... I actually took a break from it for like a week. Not that I was going religiously or anything (at best maybe three four times a week). But it's such a pain, because once you're in shape or whatever, you develop this fear of reverting. That's like the only thing that keeps me going. I don't want to go back to when my body couldn't handle ten minutes of running. Ugh. And like now the gym is making me obsess over things I never cared about before, for example, my butt. I know, totally lame and superficial, but what can I do? I already told you I'm turning into a dodo bird. So like now I want a shapely ass. I just discovered that there's actually a weight machine that works the glutes. I have no idea if I'm even using it correctly, but I'm trying to follow the diagram and directions as closely as possible. I'm probably not doing the "smooth arching motion" right, because now my lower back hurts-- it feels strained or something. And I've also tried this hamstring machine. I used to hate those ones where you had to lie on your belly. Apparently, now there's this upright one where you sit there, grab these handles on your lap and then curl your legs. OMG, who have I become? I can't believe I'm actually talking about weight machines on my blog. This is a whole new level, man. Next thing you know, I'll be logging calories and shit online. Ugh. This cannot continue.

Well I should remind myself that I actually study Chinese characters at the gym. Yes, I prop my little booklet of character sheets on top of the elliptical. So see, I still got some nerd left in me. I'm not going to worry about this internal conflict (meathead vs. nerd): in the end, I'm sure the dork side will prevail. I've never been part of the "in" crowd, so I'm sure that says something about my core nature.

World Traveler... Not!

Man, I have serious issues. Up way too early today... already showered and moving about and it's just after six. Posing off my friend Kathia, here's a graphical representation of all the places I've been in my 30 years. Not a bad showing, but certainly nothing impressive. US-wise, thank goodness for my father's whirlwind college tour (I did apply to 12 colleges you know). Well that and a good bit of business travel for CDM. Still. I'll bet my friend Jenny's got most of the world covered...

So first the big picture:

create your own visited countries map

And now the US-centric one:

create your own visited states map

I should clarify that airport-only stopovers don't count; otherwise, I'd have to tack on Korea as well as Alaska, Texas, and Illinois.

Ok, maybe I'll head back to bed for a bit.

Making Sincere Apologies

Well the HSK (Mandarin standardized exam) is tomorrow, so today is the final cram session. I have a sizeable collection of test prep books. Unfortunately, one is a total bomb. Totally inadequate explanations and the included CD only covers some of the exercises. Nice. The other exercises are apparently on another CD (sold separately); of course, I realized all of this just today. Anyway, wanted to share an interesting statement in the editor's note up front:

All the articles and texts in the new edition are selected from the publications between 2004 and 2005. For the need of teaching and test-preparation, we did some polishing in language. Due to the time limitation, we failed to get in touch with the original authors of these selections one by one, so we would like to make sincere apologies to them here and hope that they could contact us or the publisher.

Am I reading this right, or is the editor apologizing for stealing content? Or maybe the editor is only apologizng for "polishing" the language without approval from the authors? Hmm, something tells me the former case is more likely. Hey, at least someone is admitting to taking content... still a rather weak attempt to cover ass but then again, this is China: piracy is in the air and water here.

In other news, Ozzie went home today. I'm a bit bummed. He was a boisterous little fellow who demanded quite a bit of attention, but now I miss him. Too bad Remy and Martin have erased me from memory already. No love, man. It's a sad day.

Grumpy like a Pregnant Woman

I've never been pregnant (cross the fingers!), but I've certainly heard the rumors about pregnancy's many pleasant side effects-- cravings, mood swings, overall physical discomfort (and bloating), irritability... I'm displaying ALL these symptoms. Despite my whole "I'm slim and fit" posting just this month, I'm in the middle of some crazy binge. The other day, I literally scooped a huge spoonful of peanut butter (smooth, of course) and rolled it in chocolate morsels. I consumed this dangerous concoction not once, not twice, but THREE times in one sitting. Not quite Reese's PB cups, but it does fine in a pinch. Who knows how many times this process replayed in one day. Who knows? It's a mystery.

I've also been doing the home popcorn thing. A bit of oil in the pot, dump in the kernels, and voila! Fresh hot popcorn in minutes. Add a bit of salt and it's popped perfection.

Yesterday, I was dying to take advantage of Asia Xpat's Monday 2-1 special, but no cigar. Sucks to be alone or to have no friends. Ok, so I guess technically I'm neither, but for all intents and purposes, I was both yesterday, because goddamnit, I had to pass up on two tremendous deals-- massage at Dragonfly AND food at 239. Guess there's always next Monday. So pathetically, I satisfied my hunger with homemade mac and cheese. Macaroni, butter, and cheddar cheese. It was actually kind of gross because I couldn't get the cheese to melt properly (maybe because it's not real cheese?). It was all clumpy and shit. So yeah, wasn't the best m&c but hey, it silenced the pangs. And the mediocre flavor certainly didn't deter me from consuming a monster bowl.

Today, I met some friends for lunch. Ate an entire plateful of Yangzhou fried rice. It was super tasty, especially because I was starving, but afterwards I regretted doing myself in. Not that I'm now one of those dieting freaks-- you know, those annoying skinny girls who always complain about overeating... I DID eat too much (it was like a homestyle-size serving!!), but mostly, I regretted the food coma that followed. I was kind of a bubble head the rest of the day.

Ironically enough, I attended a talk this afternoon on the slow foods movement. Believe it or not, the speaker is the ex-boyfriend of an ex-friend. She's no longer in Shanghai, and we're not really in touch anymore. Long story. Anyway, the talk was interesting... I was a bit bothered by the Ostore's insistence on pairing organic foods with the slow foods movement, but fortunately, the speaker set the record straight from the get go: slow foods isn't about always promoting healthy or organic foods; rather, it's about preserving food traditions and cultures, for example, learning the history of dishes from different regions, different peoples. It's really more like a home-cooked food enthusiast club, at least that's how I read it.

So the point of all of this is that I'm on some kind of crazy warpath. I'm ok with feeding the cravings... I know they will pass. But for some reason, I've been looking and feeling a bit ragged. I'm getting shit sleep-- staying up too late doing job apps I think and also trying to study. I don't exactly know, but my tolerance is growing super thin. Little things are bugging the life out of me. My classmates, for one, continue to get under my skin. OMG, there are these two Korean ladies. They behave like total girls. My fucking god, they have the high-pitched giggle mastered to a t. They laugh at EVERYTHING. Anytime the white dude in class speaks-- be it humorous or not (usually not)-- his comments are followed by a chorus of uncontrollable giggling. You know that I believe in non-violence right? But shit, I swear, I really want to punch them. Yes, it's that bad. I should take a tape recorder just so you can understand my pain.

Another example that my anxiety is on high alert? A friend of mine told me about a bad experience with Enjoy Shanghai. Practically everyone I know participates in this Entertainment Book spin-off: basically, you buy this book of vouchers and you get discounts and BOGO specials at various participating venues (food, services, retail, etc.). On paper, the program sounds wonderful. In practice, the system sucks because the fine print is inadequate. You can read the terms and conditions until you're blue in the face, but once you arrive at the venue, it's all at their discretion. Suddenly, the coupon's not valid at that time or for that dish or whatever. Fucking ridiculous. Well yesterday, after hearing my friend's story, that was simply the last straw. I was pissed, and something had to be done. So I came home and drafted a nastygram. Normally, I obsess about all outgoing correspondence (except those to friends). Yeah, like I spend hours on organization, grammar, flow, language... it's this paralyzing illness I have. But yesterday, it all just came to me. I wrote and sent the thing in a record 10 minutes. I'm telling you, this is what happens when you break the camel's back: she turns into a hardcore fighting dog.

I’m writing you once again to voice my displeasure with your Enjoy program. Quite frankly, I am tired of going to the venues, ordering food, and then being told that the coupon is not valid for that menu or for that particular time. The tactic used by Enjoy and the restaurants seems like a classic textbook case of bait and switch.

I can immediately recall two personal incidents (but there are many more, I assure you). One time I went to M*** for lunch. The coupon said nothing about dinner only, but after we finished our meal, the waiter insisted we could not use the coupon. A second time, I went to BB. Again, the coupon did not indicate any restrictions. My friend and I ate lunch and then when we presented the coupon, we were told that it didn't apply for that particular lunch menu.

Last week, my friend and her husband went to K***. Again, they read the terms listed on the coupon beforehand. They ordered their food, and then the waiter returned and said one of the entrees was not part of the special.

I am frustrated, because I feel this is a deliberate attempt to deceive the customer. The establishments lure us into their venues to try their food and service, and then once we are there, all kinds of new rules and policies appear. Each time, the establishment handles the matter in the most unprofessional and discourteous manner. Now, all of my friends call the venue beforehand and mention the coupon to make sure that when they arrive, the coupon will be accepted. Obviously, such action is excessive; unfortunately, it is also necessary. At this rate, all of us are better off participating in AsiaXpat’s Monday 2 for 1 specials. Enjoy is simply not worth the hassle.

I would appreciate your prompt reply to my grievances. I would like to know how you will ensure that these bait and switch operations do not continue and how you intend to compensate me and my friends for our frustrations and inconveniences with this program.

milk chocolate truffle

expresso

banana rum

hazelnut praline

blood orange with dark chocolate ganache

Bday Follow-up

Well my parents forgot my bday again. In fact, it's now June 11, and they still haven't figured it out. I guess it's not that big a deal considering my family's never really been into anything festive or celebratory. Plus, this isn't the first time they've forgotten. Let's see... they forgot my 16th and my 29th. When I was 16, like any other teeny-bopper, I loved John Hughes's film, "Sixteen Candles." My parent's forgetfulness pretty much gave me reason to be Samantha (Molly Ringwald) for the week. Haha, yes I cranked out all the drama I could manage.

My friend Joon busted out with a bday present for me today. So sweet. A chocolate sampler from Mon Reve Patisserie. Don't ask me how to say the name, but hey, it's a French pastry shop, so you KNOW the chocolate is serious. The little truffles are exquisite, and yes, that is just the adjective to describe them. Decadent, little pieces that the chef individually hand painted to life with an airbrush! I ate two already and they were heavenly. Truffles. Such delightful treasures.

You know I'm really beginning to notice a theme these days-- the oil paintings, the play, the guzheng tuner lady, these chocolates... If only I were creative and artistic like all these people... Sigh. I'm too damn lazy. I kill way too much time reading entertainment news. Gotta get with a program. Any program. Talent can be acquired, can't it?

I HATE Job Hunting!

OMFG, what is up with employers wanting resumes cut/pasted into text-only boxes? Yes, content is content, but jesus, it's no huge discovery that formatting MAKES a difference. Ugh. So freaking annoying. Even techie places make such ridiculous demands. What is up with that? Isn't everything simplier in PDF? No unauthorized mods, and docs look just as they should, regardless of which Word version or whatever.

Anyway, I've been doing job apps all frickin' weekend. At first, I was trying to tailor the resume and cover letter (that's what the experts advise anyway) to each organization/company, but then I was getting sick of it. Plus, there were only so many permutations I could finagle. Screw it, man. From now on, just minor tweaks. Anyway, employers only give each application a 30-seconds lookover. Not even worth it. And damn, is it just me, or are there a ton of incompetent, lazy dumbfucks out there in high-paying jobs? What is wrong with this world? I want a sweet-ass job! And I promise I'll try to get along with everyone. And meet all the deadlines. And submit accurate work. Why? Why hasn't anyone replied to my letters yet? It ain't right, man. I know, you're playing the violin...

Speaking of stringed instruments, I got my guzheng restrung and tuned yesterday. Awesome. The teacher came with this electronic tuning device, and the thing plays like a charm now. If only I could play decently and give the instrument some justice. I think I will treat my friends to a performance before I go... gotta get practicing. Of course, Ozzie chewed up my roll of tape (which secures the picks on my fingers) this morning. I think the tape is still salvageable; it's just a tad wet and slimy. Eww!

Ugh. So many things to do before I leave. Just a month left, can you believe it? On my list: food safari (anyone up for BJ duck?), trip to Jiuzhaigou or Lijiang, roller skating, bowling, horseback riding, ERA (Chinese-version of Cirque du Soleil), another Mandarin-only play, Game Night/BBQ (I'm a pyro), hair highlights, majiang, as many massages as I can squeeze in... I know, some of the activities I can do in the States-- problem is, John's not so accommodating and in SF, I have like no friends. Well one or two maybe. Eh, I'm allowing myself too many distractions: I'm supposed to be studying for the HSK (next Sunday)! :( Plus, I need to get cracking on moving logistics. Shit. Been procrastinating with making phone calls.

Ah well, manana. Gotta go to the gym tonight.

Drama in Shanghai

I attended my first Mandarin-only play last night... no subtitles and it was awesome! Sooooo good. Based on the Hollywood film starring Adam Sandler (I haven't seen it), 50 First Dates is about this guy who falls for a woman lacking short-term memory. It's a bit Groundhog Dayish, but the play was a perfect introduction to Shanghai theater with plenty of modern-day dialog, a small cast, a cozy stage, and lots of hilarious scenes. I was totally surprised by how good the acting was... and the physical comedy too was so entertaining. I almost want to go see it again.

Afterwards, Helen and I went to O'Malley's to grab some food. I actually hate O'Malley's, but we were meeting up with her hubby and that was his pick. I suppose the calamari was decent (there just wasn't very much of it) and the apple pie was unexpectedly good. But the ambience was a nightmare, especially on opening night of the World Cup. World cup, schmirld scup. Who the fuck cares. Floods of annoying drunks. Seriously, I felt like I was at a frat party. Disgusting. It's too bad the games won't be during the day; otherwise, I'd have the malls and shops all to myself (like I did during American football games at UF). Shame.

In other news, Ozzie continues to be a bundle of joy. That dog is so playful. My god, I've lost count how many times he'll chase after a bone or ball. At least all that's required of me is some arm action. The rest is just sitting on my ass. Speaking of laziness, I need to get back to the gym. Argh. It really is a constant battle. I really just do not like the gym. I like the results, but I hate the means.

Man, the mosquitos are out now in full force. Earlier this week while I was out walking the dog, I got nailed on my ears. Yeah, fucking a. So itchy and now my ears are red as hell. And my friends make fun of me setting up shop on the bed under the tent. It's no games when it comes to these bloodsuckers, man.

flower detail

my pampered feet

Over the Hill--- Officially

Well I'm officially 30 years old now. No longer the spring chicken in my roaring 20's. Nope. Now, I'm a totally washed out thirtysomething. Yippie. Can you feel the enthusiasm?

Today was a shit day, man: Cloudy weather, a light chill. As usual, I didn't sleep well, so I woke up before 6 am, walked Ozzie, and somehow still managed to get to class late (my first time walking in 15 minutes late!). Then in class I had trouble staying fully alert during the lesson... I looked like total shit. Bags under the eyes and everything. Plus walking the dog in the grass made my sneakers soggy. Gross. I should have known the day was jinxed.

Ah well, I suppose my friends Susie and Pamela helped me make the best of the day. In the end their efforts succeeded. We had a kickass lunch at the fusion place 239. I'm a huge fan of set lunches. Love the set menu. Then, we spent the afternoon primping it up at the spa. Had a Japanese shiatsu massage at Dragonfly (that place is pretty hit or miss). Nice ambience, but not sure the skills match those of the blind dudes at Double Rainbow. Regardless, my masseuse worked out some knots in my shoulders (I've been camping out on the bed-- studying and working on the computer--for far too long) and I acually managed to fall asleep. Even caught myself snoring a couple times. Unfortunately, the massage thing turned out not to be such a bonding experience as all three of us ended up in separate rooms. Who knew Thursday afternoon would be such a busy time? Afterwards, we headed next door for a manicure/pedicure combo. I know, complete indulgence. Since it was my birthday, they even gave me handpainted flowers on my big toes. Too bad a nice pedicure and beautiful, delicate flowers still don't do the trick: my feet are really rather ugly. Such a lost cause that I won't even tell how many silly pictures I had to take on the digital camera just to get this single mediocre shot. Oh well. At least the nails are trim, and the colors are nice for summer.

Please excuse the blur. I'm a budding pet photographer... still working on the settings. :) What do you think he is? I suspect St. Bernard and Border Collie (or Aussie Sheepdog)

Such a handsome pup!

My new housemate, Ozzie

Betrayal to the Highest Degree

Quite unexpectedly, I've come to rather enjoy this living alone arrangement. Not that I don't adore my Bubbey and pups, but when you live alone, it's all-you-can-eat me time. I get to do what I want, when I want, with whomever I want. I mean, it's a little difficult to explain, so please don't misconstrue: in NO way is Bubbey possessive, controlling, or high maintenance. When he's here, there are no rules or restrictions but still, I find myself wanting to go home earlier rather than later. I want to go home to spend time with my honey and with the dogs. So while that is certainly my choosing, I think subconsciously maybe there is still a bit of expectation... which is fine. That comes with the territory of being in any relationship. But what I'm saying is, when I'm here on my own, there's just an added freedom. I wouldn't necessarily trade one for the other; it's just that I appreciate the advantages of both sides. For example, if I'm hungry but feeling lazy, I'll just make popcorn or eat cereal or get Lawson's sushi rolls. That super simple kind of fare rarely passes for John. He can eat cereal for dinner once or twice, but like three days in a row? Forget it. He needs a real meal after that, something substantial. To me, that decision alone is so much trouble: you gotta think of a place to eat, figure out how to get there, then make selections from the menu... it's so many steps and stages, you know? And it takes time, whereas with the cereal or sushi rolls, you're hungry then you're fed. Problem solved in a matter of minutes. So anyway, this living single can be kinda fun. Not all the time, of course. But sometimes, yes, it's rather enjoyable.

Lately, I've also thought a bit about life after Remy and Martin. A totally depressing subject, but one we'll have to face eventually. So the big issue is, will we get another dog? Recently, I've been thinking no... just because if we want to travel the world... blah, blah. And well frankly, it didn't help when John put me on speakerphone the other day and Martin didn't respond AT ALL to my voice. Even Remy gave a disappointing showing, but I guess at least she wagged her tail. Yeah, totally bummin', those two. I mean, that's all the excitement their long lost mother gets after a month of separation? How's that for loyalty.

So that's fine, man. I've moved on... without skipping a beat, I might add. In fact, I'm shacking up with Ozzie now. What a dreamboat... only 7 months old but incredibly well behaved. Potty trained, no separation anxiety, no chewing. And he's so spunky. Loves to play fetch-- and actually brings the toy back to you (Rem and Marty, you two listening??) So cute! John says he's having heart to hearts with Remy and Martin: he's telling them mommy's betraying them, cheating on them. Whatever, I'm sure they could care less. Hey man, if you can't show me the love when I call, screw it! There are bigger fish to fry!

Another good thing about Ozzie is that he's reminded me of how much I really do love dogs. I know, I guess creating a doggie website kinda counts for being a bit cuckoo about canines, but honestly, I was really on the path to convincing myself not to have dogs after R&M! I know, how could I even have thought that???!! But now I realize that Ozzie makes me so happy. I just love dogs too much to live without them. Sure, they can be major sandbags sometimes, but they're just so cute and when they're good, they really are angels on earth. I can't help but be sucked in.

This one is propped up against the tv. The texture on the roofing and stucco walls is really cool.

I love the sun's rays in this one... and of course I have a soft spot for the puppies.

These girls remind me of my early days when I used to do Chinese dance. We'd put our hair up in two little buns and wear delicate silk, embroidered costumes. I love the sweet looks on their faces. Isn't the glow of the lanterns unreal?

Beautiful Mongolian girl with the deepest, most innocent eyes.

Not sure what ethnic minority she is... Miao perhaps?

I've Got Culture...

Ok, so not really. But I'm so psyched, because today I bought five paintings from Yu Yuan. Considering that silly prints in the States cost $50 easy, these were a super steal. And I absolutely LOVE them. The sales lady wrapped everything up in bubble film so I could take it home in one bundled package, but I couldn't resist taking them out and hanging them in my living room. I know, I'm only here for a month, and they don't exactly all go together, much less go with the room but I don't care. They're beautiful. See for yourself!

I don't know how John and I will have enough room in the California apartment for them. :( Oh well, we'll find a way. The sales rep said she noticed a theme from my selections: I must really be into kids. Uh, wrong. I like the idea of kids (well-behaved ones of course), but whatever lady: Barren womb forever!!

So I know this appears a bit ridiculous, because I had four small square pictures hanging on the living room wall. I've taken those down, but since the walls are concrete, I'm just going to use their existing nails rather than drill new ones. As a result, I have a serious alignment problem. Oh well, just indulge me and admire the art alone. Sigh. If only I were that artistic and talented...

Here's Remy sneakin' in. They're playing musical chairs or something!

I told you the pups were livin' it up in Cali. Here's Martin in his new pillow. FYI, we have a 1 BR apartment: the dogs have FOUR pillows plus full access to the couch!

Frumpy's Back

As much as I tried to fight her off, Frumpy's back. You see, I started going to the gym regularly back in April. I wasn't intending to lose weight; I just wanted to stop ingesting so much junk, and I wanted to be able to run for thirty minutes without greeting death at my door. Well it's two months later now, and I've unexpectedly dropped down to my lightest weight since probably college. The good news is that I feel healthier and stronger. I've always been on the slim side; now I'm just slim-mer. But no worries, I've held at this weight for a couple weeks now and according to my BMI, I'm on the lower end of the "normal" weight range. I don't intend on slimming down any further-- gotta keep what little curves I got ;)

The bad news is my relatively new pants, which I purchased in late February/early March, are now baggy. Poofy in the butt (which has gone from zero to sub-zero) and frumpy in the front. Fuck. And they are beautiful pants too. On Pamela's advice, I had actually stretched beyond my 100 RMB-per-piece limit and invested. Guess I'll try taking them to a tailor. I do hope they're salvageable, as I'm not in the mood to return to square one.

Megan and Adam

Jodi and Micah

After the feast. Birthday boy seated at the far end (white shirt and glasses)-- a spring chicken at 25.

Duh!

OMG, I am a freaking moron! As you know, I hosted Game Night II at my place last weekend. Well part of the party preparations included cleaning off my grill. As a practically permanent fixture on my patio, the grill was all nasty with dust and grime. So before the party, I gave it a good scrubbing... in my shower (my patio has a drain but no faucet-- go figure!). At the time, I thought this was a brilliant idea, since my shower head is one of those handheld apparatuses. There I stood, in the shower, scrubbing to my heart's content. La dee da, sloughing off clobs of black crap and watching it float into the drain.

Duh! Like a total retard with no common sense (much less an engineering degree), I didn't even register the possibility of a clog. Well, congratulations. I win the idiot prize. The very next day, I hop in the shower and within two minutes, I'm standing in an inch of gray, oily water. What was I thinking? I ignored the problem for a few days: maybe the stoppage would somehow unclog itself. After I could no longer take pruny, greasy feet, I decided to cram my thick cable bike lock down the drain. Since the piping beneath the bathroom sink shoots straight down (no air trap), I assumed the shower pipe would have the same design. Wrong, there was a frickin' elbow ten inches down. I kept jamming my cable lock in and out of the pipe. No luck. Next, I tried my wire/cable clothing line. Too flexible. Third up? Acid. I poured straight vinegar down the drain. I know, I could have just gone searching for Drano, but frankly, I didn't know whether the supermarket would even have that stuff. Plus, vinegar was within reach. Well, that didn't work either. After suffering from a few more days of shrively feet, I called the maintenance dude today. He ran the water, put my toilet sucker over the drain, gave it a few hard pumps, and bam. Just. Like. That. Unclogged. Je-sus, I am a total dumbass. Why the hell didn't I think of that? WHY?

In other news, Joon celebrated his 25th birthday yesterday. A group of twelve chowed down at Oriental, an MTV (Myramar, Thai, Vietnamese) place. Pretty tasty. Afterwards, a handful of us went to his place where we talked about treacherous beasts (anacondas, the Loch Ness monster, aliens) and the incredible intelligence of other people (aliens, possibly?), specifically, those responsible for the Great Pyramids, Stonehenge, crop circles, etc. Yeah, so in conclusion, I'm a dumbo...

Putting Things in Gear

Breathe in. Breathe out. Whew, it's been a tough week. Juggling the usual tasks, but on top of that, John and I had a couple tiffs. You know how draining those can be... We're coming up on ten years together this August (was I really only 20 when we met?), and actually the last couple of years have been pretty much skirmish-free. Until now. I suppose his stressful new position doesn't help. Nor do the distance and my internal issues. I've had some trouble sleeping. I just really want to maximize things: you know, the Mandarin learning, my remaining days here, my life in general. I want my shit pulled together and figured out. And then there's that whole "career" issue. God, the career is so overrated but still, it's tough seeing people's faces when I explain I just want a challenging and enjoyable job. I don't know if anything will develop into a "career," but for now I'm just focused on getting a job. They give me this look like I'm a slacker or something. It's not as if my experiences don't follow any kind of theme...

ANYway, John and I have worked out the kinks now. I'm most definitely on the prowl, job hunting for opportunities in the Bay area. I've decided on a three-prong approach that hopefully will put my writing/training/web development skills to use with nonprofit women's orgs, nonprofit environmental conservation orgs, and private-sector tech companies. The Bay area is a tech hotspot after all... might as well experience working for a dot com or something. Unexpectedly enough, the other day I was thrilled to discover that Google has a philanthropic arm, Google.org. That could be sooo good. Anyone out there a Google-ite?

Up Late Reading

I've been in a foul mood this week. For one, I fucked up my sleep schedule staying up til 3 a.m. one night reading a shitty book, The Lost Daughter of Happiness. Written by a native Shanghainese woman who is now living in San Francisco, the book appeared promising. I mean, come on, all the elements are there: Shanghai, San Francisco, Chinese author, trafficking in women. Plus, the book was recommended by a friend. Well, shit. I was disappointed as hell. Read half and wasn't that thrilled. Somehow though, I was convinced it had to get better, so I continued skipping ahead. I suppose the main turnoff was shifting perspectives. The story was mostly third person, but then there were these awkward first person sections. The flow was choppy and the language a bit forced. Maybe the translator messed things up. I don't know. Then again, I could have just grown impatient and frustrated with the weak and passive protagonist. I mean, yes, she's a trafficked woman but STILL, I'm sure there are strong women who are trafficked and still trapped inside the system. Ugh. Anyway, thank goodness for Princess Melissa. Yes, she's the one from Real World New Orleans, but don't hold it against her. She actually hates being tagged with Real World, and you know what? I kicked my Real World habit YEARS ago. The point is, Melissa rocks. You have to check her out.