The other week my dear friend Sue told me she was pregnant. Of course, I congratulated her (despite my own aversion to bearing/raising children). Still, I was so surprised. Just the month before, she told me they were going to start trying… sure didn’t take long, eh? I guess for some people the body adjusts rather quickly even following years of birth control. Anyway, she’s due next May. So crazy– my first close friend to get pregnant.

Actually, most of my buddies are still living it up Sex in the City style! Ok, maybe not that flashy, but you know, they have that independent working woman thing going on. I have to say, being married is great but sometimes I feel so vulnerable from the dependency. Yes, love is a beautiful thing: you choose to love in spite of the vulnerability. But I still feel torn at times: dependency can really screw you. Family, friends, love, whatever… Too many things have fallen through because I mistook people for being reliable. I know, this is all a bit jumbled. Like I’m trying to talk about something without specifics. I apologize and offer some context.

John headed out to the States yesterday. You’d think after dating long distance for five years and putting up with years of his work travel, I’d have it down by now. Well, I don’t. I still cry when he leaves. Sure, I could go out with friends… but I’m rather elistist when it comes to friends. Plus, it’s tough to settle for an acquaintance’s company after hanging out nonstop with my best buddy, you know? Anyway, that was the first thing to tip all this off. I hate depending on Bubs, and I hate being a wuss.

The second thing was a call from my parents last week, asking me to re-connect with my estranged brother. Seems like a simple enough parental request: “Just call your brother and talk to him. He loves and respects you. Your call will make us all very happy.” Some of you may not know my history with Johnny. Long story short: I think he’s a funny and intelligent guy. But he’s also immature, irresponsible, and unreliable. I blame two parties for his lesser qualities: Johnny himself (he IS 30 now) and my family (myself excluded, of course). I used to think my parents were in a league of their own, because they baby him like he’s an imbecile or cripple. Since moving to Shanghai, however, I’ve realized Confucius and persisting Chinese traditions (including methods of parenting) are the culprits. In China, there are entire legions of “little emperors.” It’s just insane. Sometimes parents get lucky: their child loves and respects them for their lifetime of contributions. Other times, even sacrifices become expectations and nothing is too much. I’m done with this bullshit. I’ve wasted years trying to repair, but honestly, there’s no point in patching a leak when the bike’s riding through a construction site. I don’t lie, and I don’t feign concern. My parents will just have to find other sources of happiness.

John and I celebrated our nine-year milestone yesterday. We went out to dinner at the San Francisco Steakhouse in Gubei. We’ve been eyeing that place for a while, so yesterday we finally took the plunge. Ok, so our decision to dine there was influenced in part by a coupon (I gotta come clean)… You see, we recently acquired the Enjoy card (it works similarly to the Entertainment card in the US), so admittedly, we had a kickass voucher. Regardless, the main meal was fantastic. John said his ribeye was comparable to Ruth Chris’ (but without the critical blue cheese crumbles), and I had Australian lobster. I was licking my fingers after trying to eat every tiny ounce of meat outta the thing (I was even cracking open the thin lobster legs!). Was a good time.

John and I got all bummed out reminiscing about our college days. What a drag: we’re now older farts than ever. I mean, I don’t mind being in my late 20’s. It’s not the number that bothers me. It’s really just that my perception of time seems to be changing. Time just flies by, and I guess I have a fear of witnessing people I know age.

Related (or maybe not)… today I decided, it was time for another chop. I’ve had long hair for like three years now, and even though there are minor differences (layers, highlights), I always do the same damn thing with it: ponytail. I say I’m gonna do braids or pigtails or funky twists. Nope. At the end of the day, I’m one lazy beotch. So, it’s time. I was falling into a really annoying, indecisive state about this, but for Crissakes, it’s just hair. I’ve lived through enough hair disasters to know it’ll just grow back. Get on with things, right?

We recently discovered a DQ (Dairy Queen) in Shanghai! In fact, there are three parlors in the city, and one is dangerously close to our apartment. Needless to say, John and I have gone to the joint so often that the workers know our order (large Oreo blizzard). Initially, this DQ was a nightly treat; John and I even used hand signals (shaking the DQ cup upside down) to indicate the time for a blizzard run. But, for the sake of our wallets (and our waistlines), we’ve cut back. But damn the temptation! Especially amidst a hot and muggy summer such as this one. Who doesn’t crave cool and creamy soft serve filled with delectable cookies crunchies… Now I just need a Carvel in Shanghai, then I’ll surely be done for!

My friend Danielle is out of town, so I’ve been taking her foster dog Lulu to the Second Chance Animal Aid (SCAA) adoption days. Lulu has mites, so her fur is splotchy, but she is a sweet, calm dog. Most people at the event look at her with disgust or fear: little do they know, she was nearly slaughtered for food. Some guy attempted to kill her by banging a hammer on her head! Luckily, she was saved, but her low immunity just couldn’t fight off the mites. Since Danielle has taken her in, Lulu is doing much better. She receives daily medications, weekly dips, and plenty of TLC.

I was pleasantly surprised at yesterday’s adoption day. Several British children saw her, and rather than freaking out about how “ugly” she looked, they bombarded me with questions. What happened to her? Why is she trembling? When I explained Lulu’s story, they immediately jumped to adopt her. One kid was only in Shanghai for two days, and he ran off to ask his mum if they could take her. Even the six-month UK quarantine wouldn’t deter him. I knew the adoption was not going to happen, but I was so happy to see kindness and compassion in children so young. It really made me hopeful.

Unfortuantely, the rest of yesterday was a blur. My cat allegies hit hard, so when I got home, I had to take a Benadryl. That is some strong shit, man. I was pretty much knocked out from 5pm to 11pm. John kept asking me what I wanted from the store, and I couldn’t even speak. Was ridiculous. I feel better this morning, but I gotta check out an accupuncturist. Allergies suck and I need some serious relief (other than getting drugged up).

By now, I’m sure you’ve noticed my growing dog fanaticism… It all makes sense: after all, I do run a dog website (StarPups*Shanghai plug!). Plus, I’m involved with SCAA (Second Chance Animal Aid), where love for animals takes on a cult-like fervor. So what started as a hobby has quickly developed into something more: I now volunteer weekly at the animal shelter, attend monthly SCAA meetings, research new pet services for StarPups, and juggle a growing rolodex of doggie contacts. And things will only grow from here, as I’m starting up with Animals Asia Foundation at the end of August (hopefully).

Anyway, I’ve got a dog story for you. As you know, earlier this week I returned from a 10-day trip around southern China. During my travels, I missed my puppies A LOT. Especially hearing about the South Korean scientist cloning an Afghan hound, I really felt fortuate for the good temperaments of my babies. After I got home, I started calling R&M my angels on Earth. I know, totally dorky and out of line with my atheistic views, but I liked the sound of it. Angels on Earth. Has a nice ring, don’t you think?

Naturally, the very next day, John and I came home to bathroom garbage strewn all over the floor. Devils in the house! What the hell were R&M after? Brace yourself, because this is a bit disgusting: my used tampon. Yep, it was gone. Not a shred left. Aside from being grossed out by the thought of my angels chomping on some bloody, gooky stuff, I started worrying (big surprise) about worse-case scenarios. What if the tampon got stuck? I began madly researching “dog ate tampon” online. Some people fed laxatives, others induced puking… Fuck. I pulled out my dog nutrition books. I could give them hydrogen peroxide or a teaspoon of petroleum jelly, but which dog? Who the hell ate it? They both acted guilty.

I called my vet friend Nathalie in the US. She said all I could do was monitor and inspect their dumps for 72 hours. If either stopped eating/shitting, we were in deep trouble: intestinal obstruction, i.e. surgery.

So began the poop inspections. These last two days, I’ve had to smush it around in the plastic bag like I was searching for gold. Who knows whether it was consumed whole or part, right? (Of course, John doesn’t have the stomach for such things.) Luckily, my days as a solid waste engineer prepared me well for such checks. And I only had to inspect for two days, because this morning, I was overjoyed to find the evidence. Guess who?

Remy. This is an important discovery, because despite their “Angels on Earth” status, in the last two years they’ve gotten into the trash (kitchen trash) maybe three times. And each time, it was a mystery. Now we know. Looks like Martin is turning out to be the true goody goody– and a better prospect for Dr. Dog.

John’s friend Jay dropped in to town in late July with his girlfriend Jill. Shanghai was on the tail end of their 2-month journey beginning in St. Petersburg and ending in Beijing. We were glad to have some visitors, and as they are both seasoned backpackers, John and I seized this opportunity to test out the low-key travel style. Within a day of their arrival, we had sketched out five stops in eight days. Then, off we were. I had my qualms about not having lodging booked ahead of time and about visiting so many locations in just a few days, but this was our chance to wing it all.

We returned yesterday afternoon, and I am wiped. We rode every kind of transportation possible– mini-buses, taxis, normal trains, sleeper trains, sleeper buses, tuk-tuks, you name it. For the most part, we had good weather: Typhoon Matsa created some cooling winds (but also some drenching downpours). And we saw some pretty awesome spots. But we defintely underestimated the difficulties involved with getting from one place to another. In conclusion, the lessons we learned were:

1) Don’t cram too many cities in to one trip. (We plan to revisit three of the places we stopped: we just didn’t spend enough time this first time around
2) Use hostels (what a great find!).
3) Avoid winging it on trips shorter than two weeks. I’ve come a long way from my former Type A neurotic self. Still, I feel very strongly now about planning ahead. You see, NOT planning ahead only results in more stress and inefficiency during the trip. In other words, you end up wasting valuable “relaxation” time trying to flush out transportation details, ticket purchaes, and lodging.

Overall, we had a good time. John uploaded our best pix here. We hit some great places to knock off our China list. But I’m glad to be home, reunited with the pups.

Today I spent several hours at a Chinese hospital. My ayi’s husband (who used to do construction) was over this morning trying to repair the rods for my draperies. The nail had come out of the wall (concrete, not drywall) and so he was up on the ladder, drilling a hole and pounding a wooden peg into the space. While on the top rung, he turned around and the flimsy alumninum ladder just crumbled. On his way down, his arm hit against the tile ledge of the bay window. It all happened in a matter of seconds and though there was no blood, the situation did not look good. Within 20 minutes, we were at No. 6 hospital–thankfully, they are well-known for their orthopaedic department. I’m glad Wu ayi was there too. She’s gone to numerous hospitals in the area (taking the elder folks in their family), so she had the process down pat. Registering at one place, filling out paperwork at another, submitting payment at a third, getting xrays at the fourth, etc. It was quite an experience for me, and I was really worried Mr. Yang had broken his arm. Luckily, in three hours, we got everything taken care of: two sets of x-rays, an IV drip, anesthetics, a resetting of the socket, and complete bandaging. Four weeks he’ll be in the bandage. Looks like the shoulder bone was fractured, but the bone should grow back ok.

As for hospital cleanliness, it wasn’t as bad as I expected but still, far below western standards. I definitely took note of blood stains on the floors, blood on the transport beds, inconsistent glove use, people spitting on the floors, etc. Not pretty. And the chaos at the hospital was similar to that at the post office or bank or supermarket: a billion people waiting to see the doc, and no real queue. Oh well, I’m just glad it’s over, and Mr. Yang is ok.

Hey all, I’ve got some fantastic news. These last several months, I’ve been in touch with Animals Asia Foundation, a super cool org doing animal protection and community education in Asia (including lots in China). Among their many great efforts, they operate Dr. Dog and Professor Paws– programs that demonstrate the benefits of companion animals. The former project involves therapy dogs visiting people in orphanages, eldery centers, hospitals, and hospitals. They just hang out and make peeps smile. In the latter project, dogs visit primary school kids to teach them about responsible pet care and dog safety. All of this is part of a broader campaign to promote dogs as pets (rather than food). It’s quite clever and the programs have really taken off in HK and Chengdu. Now, they’re bringing it to Shanghai. The details are still in the works, but I’ve been offered the chief coordinator position for the Shanghai office. I am so stoked; I feel like this is finally an opportunity to mesh my love for dogs, my passion for NGO work, and my desire to further my Mandarin.

Now for the bad news: totally unrelated to AAF but still relevant to my life and happenings (ok, maybe not my life per se, but at least to my interest in gossip). Jude Law. What the fuck? The guy is such scum. Sounds like a frickin’ nympho, but shit, ain’t getting any sympathy from me. I mean, honestly, a history with wife swapping and then divorcing his wife right after she’s given birth to his third kid (and suffered through post partum depression–let’s not even talk about the fist-pumping, conceited, psycho drama king Mr. TC)? Grow up Jude. Just because you played Alfie on screen doesn’t mean you gotta be him in real life. Hope you end up old, shriveled, and alone. Ugh. Obviously, I’m disgusted and annoyed. I don’t know why I get so pissed off about these things. Admittedly, I had a similar reaction with Mr. Beck-man. Not that I was fond about any part of the Beckham empire. Still. It’s the thought process (or absence thereof) that bugs the shit out of me. As if 1) this kind of inconsiderate asshole behavior is ok 2) they could get away and not suffer the consequences 3) some ridiculous, feigned public apology is all that’s necessary to gain forgiveness. Fuck off, man. I mean, at least the good news is that Sienna Miller now has the sense knocked into her. A tough lesson to learn at the young, impressionable age of 23 but a critical one all the same. Poor gal. She was going all full force too, spending time with his kids in anticipation of step-motherhood. Ditch the sandbags, man.

I’m sure many of you have heard the Rice Crispies treats story. Yes, when I was in college, I mailed John a package of homemade treats. His sister Susan found him eating them (rather unenthusiastically). After biting into one herself, she went off on how terrible they were. She insisted they were absolutely inedible (practically toxic) and forced John to toss them immediately. My defense is that they turned stale during shipment. I had personally tested them myself before sending, and they were fine. But after that, the word was out: Vicky is a disaster in the kitchen. Susan only flamed the fire: “How does one mess up Rice Crispies Treats?”

The last few months, I’v been spending more time in the kitchen. Trying to become more wifely, I suppose. Actually, when it comes to baking, I’m usually quite good. Unforutnately though, I’ve encountered some bad luck lately. Even my famed chewy chocolate chip walnut cookies (which won rave reviews from my students) have bombed (maybe it’s the local butter?). Then last night, I tried to make mango black sticky rice and well, I burned the rice into a black, gritty crisp. But TONIGHT, I was trimphant! This is my day of redemption! The recipe? Portuguese sweet rice. And it even has Bubbey’s stamp of approval. Hehe, I feel so lucky, I might even give my cookies another go. Stay tuned!

Wow, this has been a busy week. I picked up a brief gig at Motorola. As usual, I received very little information about the job– just that I had to read things in English. Turns out, I had to test voice recognition on four mobiles. First off, “testing voice recognition” wasn’t like reading off ten names. No. It involved reading five pages of names on four mobiles, each under three different settings. Fucking A is right! Setting 1: conference room. Setting 2: a bus stop. Setting 3: cafeteria. So, not sure if you’re up on Motorola phones, but THEY SUCK. Beyond their cool-looking Razor, all their other stuff is crap. Take it from me: when I first moved here, I bought a E380. Nice and small form factor but cheap, odd-shaped plastic buttons and a horrible user interface. I was always getting lost with the user menus. So one phone we tested had a relatively swift voice response system, but the other two? Forget it. In robot voice, “Please say a command or name. Sorry, please repeat. Please say a command or name.” The voice prompt was SUPER slow and then if it pulled up the wrong name (which happened a lot), I had to instruct it to cancel and then go back. Pressing the buttons didn’t do squat. God. It was a hair-pulling experience. Think it took an hour to read two pages.

Yesterday, we went to test the phones at the cafeteria during lunch. That didn’t last long, because after ten minutes, two authorities came over and started grilling us on what we were doing. What the hell were they thinking? That we were spies or something? Four women in office dress plotting a coup? Because we weren’t technically eating there, they kicked us out. Didn’t care to hear our explanations, just insisted quite hostilly that we leave. Immediately. Fuckers. So we ended up at my favorite MNC: McD’s. I was forced to consume their tasty yet surely toxic food. Same deal today. No wonder I feel bloated and gross.

I must say, I did luck out with mobile number 4, a Samsung (a competitor!). That thing was kick ass: slim, responsive, super accurate. Reminded me of my awesome Samsung back in the States. Can’t afford Samsung here. It’s damn pricey, but geez, the Koreans are getting their shit straight. If John and I move back to the States, I think we outta check out the Hyndais too.