got an email from shawn today about his goings-on about town in chicago. he mentioned that he had dinner with this brother-in-law and one of his friends, who works for accenture and that accenture wants to break into the china market. my first thought? hire ME!
what's that all about? i preach almost daily about how i'm here because it affords me the ability to not have my nose to the grindstone like it would be if i were at home, and that i can work on my writing out here without stressing about my mortgage and getting my nails did to keep up with mrs. jones... but there's this compulsion in me that still lusts for the paycheck.
i mean, i figure i've got a decent amount of work experience under my belt and i can probably command a decent salary with a good company. and i do these things where i fantasize about having a beautiful apartment in the french concession in one of the lane houses, and i see other expats throwing money around china like it's nothing and sometimes i think, that could be me.
and then i shake myself and wonder why i thought that. i left all of that behind in the bay area. i mean, sure, i still go for the occasional facial and mani pedi, but i really have not engaged in consumerism here like i do at home. part of it, of course, is the fact that i'm not pulling down a fraction of what i used to make. but the rest of it is because of the sick addiction i have for owning things, wanting the best, always dreaming of something better is quelled here. i realized how insane i'd gotten once i arrived in china and there really just wasn't anything i wanted to buy. my temptations removed, i could then realize that i don't need those things, that i'm not any better off with perfect toenails and new clothes every week. silence the beast.
i still waver. daily. today i woke up and wanted to work for accenture. tomorrow - or perhaps later today - i will realize how good i have it and will have an episode about how happy i am to not be in an office 40+ hours a week. i have a feeling that this week i'm going to be a little aggravated because it's may holiday starting tomorrow and i won't be getting any emails back for another week about story pitches that i sent out... which will make me nervous about my income and i will subsequently get all riled up and want to work at a 'regular' job where i don't have to worry about this stuff.
tranquilo....
(at the very least, at 29 i can now predict how insane i'm going to be. 5 years ago i'd just be reacting and freaking out.)
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
currently listening to...
combichrist. it's my first foray into industrial, but i rather like it. it's kind of soothing in an odd and violent way. the rhythms are good to type to. he has a new album out, what the fuck is wrong with you people? but i'm listening to stuff off of an older album, everybody hates you.
positive, no?
positive, no?
she's a behind-the-portables kind of girl
today a whole lotta nothing. it's sunday, the sunday before a big holiday, so most people have to work the weekend in order to 'earn' the full 7 days off starting on tuesday. that's how it works in china. so everyone worked saturday and today and will work tomorrow, then they can have the week off. lame, yeah?
i had high designs to get up this morning and meet people for brunch at 1 pm and go to the cool foreign bookstore with sherry, but my eyes opened at 1:50 pm and then i saw the rain outside. the best i could muster was the 7:15 bikram class and that was it. talked to my sister about how the open house for my condo went and it sounded dismal. cruised craigslist for comparison shopping because we're going to sell off most of my furniture. not too productive.
the friggin yoga studio was SO hot today i couldn't hang. usually i stay after and hang out in shivasana for a while, letting all the 'healing' and crap happen, but it was so hot today that i just got up and bailed when class was over. after a cool shower i was still sweating. fuck the makeup - it woulda just slid off my face anyway - run outside where it's cool. they keep the locker room at about 85 degrees so that doesn't help in the slightest.
you sweat like a bitch in bikram but my problem is the snot. something about the intense heat or the movements make my sinuses release and i'm the snot queen for the next 90 minutes. it's downright embarrassing to be in all these random poses and to have a snot thread connecting your face with the towel. i guess maybe a smarter person would bring in some kleenex or smth but i don't remember to, plus i'm self-conscious about blowing fat wads of shit in a relatively silent room. i shouldn't be - i am in china, after all. people belch and fart openly all the time. i don't know, i just can't bring myself to do it.
cyn came home with 2 boxes of beard papa cream puffs that didn't make it on time to a bbq. i ate one, but didn't do a very good job of trying to finish off the 12 puffs that came home. oh well. $10 of cream puffs down the drain.
heading down to guangzhou on the 7th, about which i am not excited. i'm hoping my friend dave will be down there at the same time so i can at least see one friendly english-speaking face. ugh. when i get back, tho, my godbrother willie should be in town, and that's just gonna be fun. maybe we should have a dinner party.
it's midnight and i'm ready for bed. i've only been awake 9 hours. despicable. must be the pinot.
i had high designs to get up this morning and meet people for brunch at 1 pm and go to the cool foreign bookstore with sherry, but my eyes opened at 1:50 pm and then i saw the rain outside. the best i could muster was the 7:15 bikram class and that was it. talked to my sister about how the open house for my condo went and it sounded dismal. cruised craigslist for comparison shopping because we're going to sell off most of my furniture. not too productive.
the friggin yoga studio was SO hot today i couldn't hang. usually i stay after and hang out in shivasana for a while, letting all the 'healing' and crap happen, but it was so hot today that i just got up and bailed when class was over. after a cool shower i was still sweating. fuck the makeup - it woulda just slid off my face anyway - run outside where it's cool. they keep the locker room at about 85 degrees so that doesn't help in the slightest.
you sweat like a bitch in bikram but my problem is the snot. something about the intense heat or the movements make my sinuses release and i'm the snot queen for the next 90 minutes. it's downright embarrassing to be in all these random poses and to have a snot thread connecting your face with the towel. i guess maybe a smarter person would bring in some kleenex or smth but i don't remember to, plus i'm self-conscious about blowing fat wads of shit in a relatively silent room. i shouldn't be - i am in china, after all. people belch and fart openly all the time. i don't know, i just can't bring myself to do it.
cyn came home with 2 boxes of beard papa cream puffs that didn't make it on time to a bbq. i ate one, but didn't do a very good job of trying to finish off the 12 puffs that came home. oh well. $10 of cream puffs down the drain.
heading down to guangzhou on the 7th, about which i am not excited. i'm hoping my friend dave will be down there at the same time so i can at least see one friendly english-speaking face. ugh. when i get back, tho, my godbrother willie should be in town, and that's just gonna be fun. maybe we should have a dinner party.
it's midnight and i'm ready for bed. i've only been awake 9 hours. despicable. must be the pinot.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
i'm a lawn girl
so after getting to bed past 5 am yesterday (it was getting light out) and not being able to sleep past noon, you'd think that i - of the mandatory 9 hours of sleep or else i shut down - would have called it an early night tonight. i was going to, really. i was just going to cruise by de la coast and holla at sherry plus meet the shoe designer she was showcasing for a possible story lead that i pitched the other day.
but here i am at 4 am, blogging. laying out my thoughts in a tidy little quilt that makes up my day. i like to pretend that i have to do this while i wait for the melatonin to kick in.
i stayed at dlc because i just kept having good conversations. i think i met my most favoritist gay couple ever tonight. i bonded with them about baking. and then one of the couple asked if i wanted to be a mystery shopper or diner, where they pay for your food and you can bring a friend. hello?! i'm all over that like a cheap suit. and i got to catch up with spanish eric, which is nice. and then i was laying on the beds that they have overlooking the view and some guy jumped up next to me and we started talking as well. met some 22-year old usc alum who works for disney and we talked about books and authors. i got tons of business cards tonight. fun!
today was a good day to be self-indulgent. i woke up feeling not so refreshed after 7 hours of crappy, fitful sleep and parked in front of the laptop. no one from home really emails on the weekends except for shawn (holla!) so after a while i decided i wanted to make scones. and so i did. considering the fact that i used soymilk instead of cream, they came out pretty well. then i decided to do pilates, so i did it. then i wanted to take a bath, and i did that. i just did whatever the hell struck my fancy and nothing more.
you'd think that as a work-at-home person i do this every day. most days, tho, i barely eat because i get so distracted doing what i'm doing. you'll know it's been a busy or productive day for me when it's 6 pm and i'm still in my pajamas, unfed and hopped up on caffeine, typing furiously with magazines, notebooks, and post-its scattered everywhere. i look like a wild man in the forest, but that's probably one of the days where i'm earning my keep. i honestly don't know how people who work at home keep up appearances. on any given day i'm disheveled and wearing the same outfit 4 days in a row, and my hair is sticking out everywhere. do people who work at home get up and shower and get dressed like people who go into an office? or do they do versions of what i do? how do they stay sane? i was starting to get a little stir crazy last week.
but here i am at 4 am, blogging. laying out my thoughts in a tidy little quilt that makes up my day. i like to pretend that i have to do this while i wait for the melatonin to kick in.
i stayed at dlc because i just kept having good conversations. i think i met my most favoritist gay couple ever tonight. i bonded with them about baking. and then one of the couple asked if i wanted to be a mystery shopper or diner, where they pay for your food and you can bring a friend. hello?! i'm all over that like a cheap suit. and i got to catch up with spanish eric, which is nice. and then i was laying on the beds that they have overlooking the view and some guy jumped up next to me and we started talking as well. met some 22-year old usc alum who works for disney and we talked about books and authors. i got tons of business cards tonight. fun!
today was a good day to be self-indulgent. i woke up feeling not so refreshed after 7 hours of crappy, fitful sleep and parked in front of the laptop. no one from home really emails on the weekends except for shawn (holla!) so after a while i decided i wanted to make scones. and so i did. considering the fact that i used soymilk instead of cream, they came out pretty well. then i decided to do pilates, so i did it. then i wanted to take a bath, and i did that. i just did whatever the hell struck my fancy and nothing more.
you'd think that as a work-at-home person i do this every day. most days, tho, i barely eat because i get so distracted doing what i'm doing. you'll know it's been a busy or productive day for me when it's 6 pm and i'm still in my pajamas, unfed and hopped up on caffeine, typing furiously with magazines, notebooks, and post-its scattered everywhere. i look like a wild man in the forest, but that's probably one of the days where i'm earning my keep. i honestly don't know how people who work at home keep up appearances. on any given day i'm disheveled and wearing the same outfit 4 days in a row, and my hair is sticking out everywhere. do people who work at home get up and shower and get dressed like people who go into an office? or do they do versions of what i do? how do they stay sane? i was starting to get a little stir crazy last week.
Friday, April 27, 2007
protein
one of the things that bothers me about living in china is the carbs. carbs, carbs, everywhere. people eat rice wrapped in dough and then drink insanely sweet soy milk to top it off. i like to think i eat pretty well, that i'm active and stuff, so it's probably not the end of the world. but if you're me then you get hungry about 1.2 hours after eating nothing but carbs and then you're eating again. i just feel like you need protein to anchor yourself, to keep from eating mindless crap that delivers little to no nutritional value.
meat in china is questionable. i am the only person i know here in shanghai that refuses to eat the bbq skewers on the street. something about meat that costs 20 cents USD makes me suspicious. because of this (and after countless, and i do mean countless) tummy aches at the dumpling place next to school because of the grease-filled 'meat' dumplings, it's enough to make you consider vegetarianism. generally, the meat options that i am offered here (unless i make it myself, which equals far too much effort) are sub-par because
A: chicken parts favored include only the wing. that's basically eating skin. wings are cool every so often, but a daily/weekly thing it is not.
B: pork is incredibly fatty if in the ground form, and fatty + gristly if in the chop form
C: beef - see above
anything else i don't really eat frequently enough. i know american meat and poultry receives a lot of flack for the mad cow thing, and the dirty chicken processing thing, and the hormones thing. i understand that and i like to pay way too much for my shit from berkeley bowl to ensure that it's a bit cleaner. but in china, not only do i question everything put in front of me, i also can't even question what i'm questioning, because i don't know how to express my concerns. i'm not sure if what i'm asking about even exists here (hormone-free? free range?). most times i'll just do what my mom taught me - shut up and eat. but i draw the line at those nasty-ass skewers. buses zoom by and lay grit and exhaust all over that shit and people love them. it's grilled rat, people. maybe the expensive ones are cat meat, but that's about as quality as you're gonna get.
so as options i try to eat a lot of peanut butter (found the non-hydrogenated, natural kind at city shop), eggs, dairy. eggs are a frequent option - i dump them in noodles, hard boil them and just hit em with some salt and pepper, whatever. dairy is harder because i'm snobby about cheese and yogurt so i don't end up buying it a lot because the good shit is really cost prohibitive.
fish i am also suspicious of because i keep hearing whisperings about fish caught in these really polluted waters. i mean, fish in the US is already a concern. in china? you better believe there's some nasty mercury sulfur weirdness all imbedded up in there. i ate a ton of fish in hong kong because i was so happy to be around reliable seafood. mainland, tho... i just don't know.
i think a lot about this stuff because as an avid reader of many many women's health and fashion magazines over the years, it's been drilled into my head that (from the extreme dogma of the american woman who struggles with weight and self-image issues) we should aim for low-fat protein like chicken breast, salmon (higher in fat but ok because of the omega-3s), and EVEN some lean beef or pork! legumes. tuna. crab meat from a can. cottage cheese. yogurt. almond butter, soy protein shakes, avocado. these are things that american women are told to eat. it's laughable out here in china. i mean, even as an ABC we know that to chinese people, chicken breast is the throwaway, the garbage. it's so dry my mom only deigns to use it in soup. i do actually like and subscribe to part of the 'magazine' mentality - back in the states i'm a regular at trader joe's and berkeley bowl and i do veggie burgers and eat organic whole grains and flax seeds and all that. but that part of me is switched off here. it's survival unless you're pretty wealthy and can afford the imported expensive stuff. you have to get down and dirty and sort of more practical about food quality and availability in china.
in other news... i took a flow 2 class at the yoga studio yesterday. i am a regular in the bikram classes, but i shy away from flow or anything ashtanga related because of my back problems. but after several months of bikram, i wanted to try again.
holy SHIT. i mean, i was doing ok, my balance and flexibility is decent because of bikram, but at one point the instructor was like, 'ok, now reach your right arm around and grab your foot' and i was like, ok, sure, lady. uh huh. i ain't grabbing shit right now. miraculously, it could be done, but it felt immensely awkward. like, at a junior-high dance awkward. and today i'm so sore that i'm still pre-sore. meaning 24 hours later, my muscles are still so shocked that they haven't gotten around to being truly sore yet, and are still in the extremely fatigued / numbish stage. tomorrow's going to suck.
meat in china is questionable. i am the only person i know here in shanghai that refuses to eat the bbq skewers on the street. something about meat that costs 20 cents USD makes me suspicious. because of this (and after countless, and i do mean countless) tummy aches at the dumpling place next to school because of the grease-filled 'meat' dumplings, it's enough to make you consider vegetarianism. generally, the meat options that i am offered here (unless i make it myself, which equals far too much effort) are sub-par because
A: chicken parts favored include only the wing. that's basically eating skin. wings are cool every so often, but a daily/weekly thing it is not.
B: pork is incredibly fatty if in the ground form, and fatty + gristly if in the chop form
C: beef - see above
anything else i don't really eat frequently enough. i know american meat and poultry receives a lot of flack for the mad cow thing, and the dirty chicken processing thing, and the hormones thing. i understand that and i like to pay way too much for my shit from berkeley bowl to ensure that it's a bit cleaner. but in china, not only do i question everything put in front of me, i also can't even question what i'm questioning, because i don't know how to express my concerns. i'm not sure if what i'm asking about even exists here (hormone-free? free range?). most times i'll just do what my mom taught me - shut up and eat. but i draw the line at those nasty-ass skewers. buses zoom by and lay grit and exhaust all over that shit and people love them. it's grilled rat, people. maybe the expensive ones are cat meat, but that's about as quality as you're gonna get.
so as options i try to eat a lot of peanut butter (found the non-hydrogenated, natural kind at city shop), eggs, dairy. eggs are a frequent option - i dump them in noodles, hard boil them and just hit em with some salt and pepper, whatever. dairy is harder because i'm snobby about cheese and yogurt so i don't end up buying it a lot because the good shit is really cost prohibitive.
fish i am also suspicious of because i keep hearing whisperings about fish caught in these really polluted waters. i mean, fish in the US is already a concern. in china? you better believe there's some nasty mercury sulfur weirdness all imbedded up in there. i ate a ton of fish in hong kong because i was so happy to be around reliable seafood. mainland, tho... i just don't know.
i think a lot about this stuff because as an avid reader of many many women's health and fashion magazines over the years, it's been drilled into my head that (from the extreme dogma of the american woman who struggles with weight and self-image issues) we should aim for low-fat protein like chicken breast, salmon (higher in fat but ok because of the omega-3s), and EVEN some lean beef or pork! legumes. tuna. crab meat from a can. cottage cheese. yogurt. almond butter, soy protein shakes, avocado. these are things that american women are told to eat. it's laughable out here in china. i mean, even as an ABC we know that to chinese people, chicken breast is the throwaway, the garbage. it's so dry my mom only deigns to use it in soup. i do actually like and subscribe to part of the 'magazine' mentality - back in the states i'm a regular at trader joe's and berkeley bowl and i do veggie burgers and eat organic whole grains and flax seeds and all that. but that part of me is switched off here. it's survival unless you're pretty wealthy and can afford the imported expensive stuff. you have to get down and dirty and sort of more practical about food quality and availability in china.
in other news... i took a flow 2 class at the yoga studio yesterday. i am a regular in the bikram classes, but i shy away from flow or anything ashtanga related because of my back problems. but after several months of bikram, i wanted to try again.
holy SHIT. i mean, i was doing ok, my balance and flexibility is decent because of bikram, but at one point the instructor was like, 'ok, now reach your right arm around and grab your foot' and i was like, ok, sure, lady. uh huh. i ain't grabbing shit right now. miraculously, it could be done, but it felt immensely awkward. like, at a junior-high dance awkward. and today i'm so sore that i'm still pre-sore. meaning 24 hours later, my muscles are still so shocked that they haven't gotten around to being truly sore yet, and are still in the extremely fatigued / numbish stage. tomorrow's going to suck.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
lost in paradise
when my sabbatical - or life change, or whatever it is i'm doing - is over, i'm going to think back on my mornings.
granted, they aren't even usually in the morning. when you go to sleep at 3 or 4 am normally, then you wake up almost noon-ish. i get up, take my acidopholus, chug water, turn on the laptop, make myself a latte, and do my rounds of emails and blog checking and various putterings. i'm a younger girl version of my dad. he likes his routine. on weekends he gets up, makes coffee, starts making breakfast - muffins, scones, pancakes, what have you - gets the paper, maybe pokes around outside for a bit. we are two people who are going to be the best retirees ever. except that i have another 30 years to go.
it's funny how you can be so similar to a parent. when i first arrived at my cousin B's in hong kong, his wife, biann would watch me, and i thought maybe i had a booger or something in my teeth, or i had bad table manners. i think she was just observing, though, because later she would tell me several times over the course of those 6 weeks that A: i look exactly like my mother, and B: i act exactly like my father.
i like hearing this stuff. obviously, i love my parents, but i also really like them. i think they're generally good people, and i like how i was raised, and people tend to like my dad a lot, so i guess it's good that i act like him. although i entertain no notion that people like me as much as they like him. he's like alvin, people just see my dad, they might not even know him, and they think he's a cool, nice guy. people see me, and the general feedback i get is that they think i'm stuck up. c'est la vie. i am kinda stuck up. i'm ok with it.
me me me, and more me. isn't this my blog?
so today i need to get shit done. i need to design some tees, call the t-shirt printer dudes, and email more publications. yes! be productive! last night i headed to de la coast for sherry's wednesday socials and i had 2 beers with the free appetizers, then this vodka PR guy that throws parties sends over rounds of shots.
*groan*
shots! on a lovely wednesday evening outside on the terrace! i only had to do 2 rounds, then cyn sailed in with a gold taxi like a knight on a white horse and i was outta there. went home, ate more, and passed out sitting up next to my roommate, who was industriously working on her laptop.
granted, they aren't even usually in the morning. when you go to sleep at 3 or 4 am normally, then you wake up almost noon-ish. i get up, take my acidopholus, chug water, turn on the laptop, make myself a latte, and do my rounds of emails and blog checking and various putterings. i'm a younger girl version of my dad. he likes his routine. on weekends he gets up, makes coffee, starts making breakfast - muffins, scones, pancakes, what have you - gets the paper, maybe pokes around outside for a bit. we are two people who are going to be the best retirees ever. except that i have another 30 years to go.
it's funny how you can be so similar to a parent. when i first arrived at my cousin B's in hong kong, his wife, biann would watch me, and i thought maybe i had a booger or something in my teeth, or i had bad table manners. i think she was just observing, though, because later she would tell me several times over the course of those 6 weeks that A: i look exactly like my mother, and B: i act exactly like my father.
i like hearing this stuff. obviously, i love my parents, but i also really like them. i think they're generally good people, and i like how i was raised, and people tend to like my dad a lot, so i guess it's good that i act like him. although i entertain no notion that people like me as much as they like him. he's like alvin, people just see my dad, they might not even know him, and they think he's a cool, nice guy. people see me, and the general feedback i get is that they think i'm stuck up. c'est la vie. i am kinda stuck up. i'm ok with it.
me me me, and more me. isn't this my blog?
so today i need to get shit done. i need to design some tees, call the t-shirt printer dudes, and email more publications. yes! be productive! last night i headed to de la coast for sherry's wednesday socials and i had 2 beers with the free appetizers, then this vodka PR guy that throws parties sends over rounds of shots.
*groan*
shots! on a lovely wednesday evening outside on the terrace! i only had to do 2 rounds, then cyn sailed in with a gold taxi like a knight on a white horse and i was outta there. went home, ate more, and passed out sitting up next to my roommate, who was industriously working on her laptop.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
will work for food
http://www.smartshanghai.com/blog/700/Trattoria_Isabelle_shanghai
my first restaurant review. michael bauer, here i come!
yeah right.
had dinner with dave last night, who's in town on work stuff. we ate with his business colleagues (10 of us en totale, the other 7 were older, married, very nice). M on the Bund. i wasn't that impressed. it was my first meal on the bund and while my dish was lovely, cyn wasn't enthralled with hers, and the steaks that a lot of the table ordered weren't sublime, as they should be for that price. it was so nice to see dave, tho. he looks fantastic and he informed me that he's much healthier than the last time i saw him. i brought the camera but completely forgot to take pics.
we went downstairs to glamour bar and bumped into the pastry chef from jean georges. yay! cyn met him already and he re-extended his offer to have us come in anytime and sample the goods (pastry, not him, although i suppose we could ask). NICE! that made my night. then we met alvin and the indonesian mafia so that's always nice.
i was im'ing with william yesterday. that's always fun. even though we mostly just trade insults, it's good (not-so-clean) fun that has both of us rollin'. well, i was definitely rollin', and when i told cyn about it, she was rollin', too, so i guess that's what matters. he's been commenting with his usual smartass remarks on the blog, which is hilarious. keep 'em coming, fartyhead.
i've got a nice pic for you to see (i can't figure out how to rip them off the website so i had to snatch a screen shot):
that's frank with me on the clockwork orange night. he's since left the building (the country, actually) and is taking some time off. we'll miss you, spastic! it was one of those 'awwww' moments bc at the end of the night some girl ran up to us and handed frank the photo, all printed out as a postcard. i'm sure he's lost it by now, but it was cool. good idea (mental note).
shout out to sherry for spying the photos.
my first restaurant review. michael bauer, here i come!
yeah right.
had dinner with dave last night, who's in town on work stuff. we ate with his business colleagues (10 of us en totale, the other 7 were older, married, very nice). M on the Bund. i wasn't that impressed. it was my first meal on the bund and while my dish was lovely, cyn wasn't enthralled with hers, and the steaks that a lot of the table ordered weren't sublime, as they should be for that price. it was so nice to see dave, tho. he looks fantastic and he informed me that he's much healthier than the last time i saw him. i brought the camera but completely forgot to take pics.
we went downstairs to glamour bar and bumped into the pastry chef from jean georges. yay! cyn met him already and he re-extended his offer to have us come in anytime and sample the goods (pastry, not him, although i suppose we could ask). NICE! that made my night. then we met alvin and the indonesian mafia so that's always nice.
i was im'ing with william yesterday. that's always fun. even though we mostly just trade insults, it's good (not-so-clean) fun that has both of us rollin'. well, i was definitely rollin', and when i told cyn about it, she was rollin', too, so i guess that's what matters. he's been commenting with his usual smartass remarks on the blog, which is hilarious. keep 'em coming, fartyhead.
i've got a nice pic for you to see (i can't figure out how to rip them off the website so i had to snatch a screen shot):
that's frank with me on the clockwork orange night. he's since left the building (the country, actually) and is taking some time off. we'll miss you, spastic! it was one of those 'awwww' moments bc at the end of the night some girl ran up to us and handed frank the photo, all printed out as a postcard. i'm sure he's lost it by now, but it was cool. good idea (mental note).
shout out to sherry for spying the photos.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
friggin rip-off artists
so occasionally in a bout of procrastination, i'll cruise online for hours, which sometimes includes googling myself and whomever else i think of at the moment. and last night at about 3:30 am, instead of turning up on the usual jean quan list of supporters, guess what i found?
http://www.sinomedia.net/eurobiz/v200704/view0704.html
my little article, submitted to the editor in early january after which i never heard a fucking peep from, just happens to turn up, published. the editor never even responded after i sent him my draft. i was considering sending it to another publication because i thought, obviously, that he didn't like it because he never said a word to me. can you believe this shit?!?! i shot off an immediate email and his response:
uh, no shit. i don't believe that shit for second. if i wasn't so obsessed with google, i'm sure i never would be getting paid for my work. wtf?!?! the magazine is called Eurobiz, but i think it'd be better off being called Chinabiz. i mean, at least then i can be prepared to be ripped off. they sure seemed to have caught on to how things work here.
fucking assholes. that's 1580 rmb they weren't going to pay me.
http://www.sinomedia.net/eurobiz/v200704/view0704.html
my little article, submitted to the editor in early january after which i never heard a fucking peep from, just happens to turn up, published. the editor never even responded after i sent him my draft. i was considering sending it to another publication because i thought, obviously, that he didn't like it because he never said a word to me. can you believe this shit?!?! i shot off an immediate email and his response:
Hi Carolyn,
Yes, we decided to use the article in the April issue. Sorry for not getting back to you earlier – I thought I’d written back, but it appears that I didn’t.
uh, no shit. i don't believe that shit for second. if i wasn't so obsessed with google, i'm sure i never would be getting paid for my work. wtf?!?! the magazine is called Eurobiz, but i think it'd be better off being called Chinabiz. i mean, at least then i can be prepared to be ripped off. they sure seemed to have caught on to how things work here.
fucking assholes. that's 1580 rmb they weren't going to pay me.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
damn near hallucinating
i'm so tired. getting back into yoga after 2 months off will do that. but the file transfer is only halfway done so i guess i'll try to live up to my moniker until it completes.
here's my view right now:
like my skull socks?
it got all cold yesterday and started pouring rain. luckily today was clear, but it got cold. met sherry for lunch at a new restaurant - italian - and then we walked around nan cang lu for a good couple hours, investigating the shops that jer and frank went spastic on last weekend. consensus - the majority of this stuff is coughed up from shen zhen or somewhere else in manufacturingland, china, but we did find the cool t-shirt place where they had their little commerce party (best shop on the street i'd say) but the cool t-shirts were mostly for boys. not that that's ever stopped me, but i was feeling look-y and not buy-y.
then off to yoga. i intentionally waited for bill's class - bill arce. he's my favorite. half stern and half soft - and really knows exactly what to say to get you in the right posture, and motivated. usually after yoga i like to go home and fall flat on my face, but i'd promised to show at sherry's free appetizer event at dlc, and, well, how can you argue with free food? met and re-met some of her peeps, froze my tush on the terrace (it was a bbq), then sherry and i headed down into the warmth to have an energetic and impromptu discussion on upcoming party ideas and creative endeavors.
i was just writing my friend erik about the conversation, actually. it was one of those discussions that makes you all energetic and inspired and positive that there are so many things out there that need to be done, and you - quite possibly - might be the one to do them. it's one of the things that i like about living here - just simple ideas like gathering friends or designing t-shirts seems so much more interesting and accessible here. at home i engage 400% in naysayery. i'm the first one to show up dressed as myself to a costume party. i think themes are dumb. what have you. but being here is almost like being given permission to try someone else on for size - little inclinations that you may have had before can be cultivated into full-blown interests. i can leave my snotty normal persona behind and perhaps either discover something new about myself (i know, cheese ball) or nurture a part of myself that i would have never known existed. it's a subtle change that you won't notice until you leave where you are.
ok, we're about 2/3 complete. i'm SO tired. please hurry.
sad to report that cyn's pics of vietnam died with her hard drive. i've backed up most of my stuff, but not my music. will be needing to do that. i was looking forward to getting her pics since i took a lot of rock-climbing ones on her camera. shucks.
here's an old pic from back in october. alvin and i getting ready for the shark dive:
.jpg)
can you tell i'm trying to keep myself awake? 3/4 done now.
here's my view right now:
like my skull socks?
it got all cold yesterday and started pouring rain. luckily today was clear, but it got cold. met sherry for lunch at a new restaurant - italian - and then we walked around nan cang lu for a good couple hours, investigating the shops that jer and frank went spastic on last weekend. consensus - the majority of this stuff is coughed up from shen zhen or somewhere else in manufacturingland, china, but we did find the cool t-shirt place where they had their little commerce party (best shop on the street i'd say) but the cool t-shirts were mostly for boys. not that that's ever stopped me, but i was feeling look-y and not buy-y.
then off to yoga. i intentionally waited for bill's class - bill arce. he's my favorite. half stern and half soft - and really knows exactly what to say to get you in the right posture, and motivated. usually after yoga i like to go home and fall flat on my face, but i'd promised to show at sherry's free appetizer event at dlc, and, well, how can you argue with free food? met and re-met some of her peeps, froze my tush on the terrace (it was a bbq), then sherry and i headed down into the warmth to have an energetic and impromptu discussion on upcoming party ideas and creative endeavors.
i was just writing my friend erik about the conversation, actually. it was one of those discussions that makes you all energetic and inspired and positive that there are so many things out there that need to be done, and you - quite possibly - might be the one to do them. it's one of the things that i like about living here - just simple ideas like gathering friends or designing t-shirts seems so much more interesting and accessible here. at home i engage 400% in naysayery. i'm the first one to show up dressed as myself to a costume party. i think themes are dumb. what have you. but being here is almost like being given permission to try someone else on for size - little inclinations that you may have had before can be cultivated into full-blown interests. i can leave my snotty normal persona behind and perhaps either discover something new about myself (i know, cheese ball) or nurture a part of myself that i would have never known existed. it's a subtle change that you won't notice until you leave where you are.
ok, we're about 2/3 complete. i'm SO tired. please hurry.
sad to report that cyn's pics of vietnam died with her hard drive. i've backed up most of my stuff, but not my music. will be needing to do that. i was looking forward to getting her pics since i took a lot of rock-climbing ones on her camera. shucks.
here's an old pic from back in october. alvin and i getting ready for the shark dive:
.jpg)
can you tell i'm trying to keep myself awake? 3/4 done now.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
pivotal points
i'm starting to understand some aspects of life. i think. after going through a fairly difficult time mentally while in hong kong and southern china, things are starting to look up. when you're in the depths of said hard time, things just look as if they will progress that way indefinitely and that seems to me to be part of the reason the hard time is so hard. no light at the end of the tunnel.
i have a friend who is one of those rare optimist types. any situation, even if it's a good one, gets even better in his eyes. it's amazing. i don't know how i would function if i was born that way. i guess - appropriately and rather obviously - that i wouldn't be me. i am just hard-wired a different (and cynical) way. but sometimes i wonder if in the future when another difficult phase comes loping down the lane, if i'll be able to pull out of my head and think about right now and remind myself that things do get better, eventually. will i believe myself? will it change anything?
the cynic in me says no.
but some new things are starting here - for me, mostly in the work world, it's too new so i won't discuss - and i'm feeling re-energized. i can say that i pretty easily disheartened, quick to pull the plug on anything that i sense is going to cost me any sort of loss, so i try not to get too dramatic about downturns (generally i fail). however, the floundering in hong kong thing was so bizarre; it was a mixture of house guest from hell guilt (me + 6 weeks) and feeling pressure from back home to shoulder some responsibilities (anyone need to rent a 2-bedroom apartment in oakland?!?!?! email me), plus feeling sad about what i thought my realistic job opps were going to be once back in SH. i know one thing about myself - i function much more productively with structure. although i do want to try this freelance thing, it really takes a flexible, reasonable person to have faith in oneself when in a foreign land and relatively un-connected and wanting to freelance. the hk job market is much better if you're on a corporate path, which i have been and am used to. mainland china is really more a frontier scene for the risk-takers, the independently wealthy, the entrepreneurs. i could just feel myself slipping into a debilitating bout of self-doubt about my abilities as a writer, and building a vicious cycle of limiting myself because of my fears. it happened early on in my career, and luckily i landed a sweet job that helped me build my work confidence with the help of a great boss and mentor. so, that said, things are starting to look up but i'll believe it when i see it.
ha.
switching gears, last night went to saleya on a friend's recommendation - met alvin and lisa for dinner. it's a tiny tiny little french bistro that shares an address with a produce stand (the proprietor of which was running laps in front of his small business as i walked by) and an italian restaurant, which i gather is owned by the same partners as saleya. the main reason i decided to go was that saleya is known for both good food and reasonable prices. reasonable, definitely. you can order a 3-course meal for 158 rmb (just over $20) , which for me included a generously-sized nicoise salad, lamb chops (4 of them on top of a pile of ratatouille), and a dessert. they were also very generous with the bread basket and accompanying tapenade, although initially they served us the bread with salad dressing. honestly, it was good either way. lisa ordered the last beef fillet so alvin settled for the mashed potatoes and sausage. all three were good, simple home style cooking. saleya isn't setting new records in culinary innovation, and i'd venture to say that my mom could go head-to-head with them and win, especially with my dish, but my mom is an extraordinary cook and i have no qualms with simple, home style fare. plus my mom doesn't have a restaurant and isn't here. the wine list was great - i'm still on the wagon, but i took a good long look for future reference and about 2/3 of their red wine list was under 300 rmb. the owner recommended the house red for 198 rmb and it was excellent (i did deign to sample it). good deal. and alvin fell in love all over again; he is the biggest sucker for molten chocolate cake that i've ever met. seriously. he ordered it last night and when his face semi-crumples in appreciation of a dish, you know you've just scored yourself a new fan.
i have a friend who is one of those rare optimist types. any situation, even if it's a good one, gets even better in his eyes. it's amazing. i don't know how i would function if i was born that way. i guess - appropriately and rather obviously - that i wouldn't be me. i am just hard-wired a different (and cynical) way. but sometimes i wonder if in the future when another difficult phase comes loping down the lane, if i'll be able to pull out of my head and think about right now and remind myself that things do get better, eventually. will i believe myself? will it change anything?
the cynic in me says no.
but some new things are starting here - for me, mostly in the work world, it's too new so i won't discuss - and i'm feeling re-energized. i can say that i pretty easily disheartened, quick to pull the plug on anything that i sense is going to cost me any sort of loss, so i try not to get too dramatic about downturns (generally i fail). however, the floundering in hong kong thing was so bizarre; it was a mixture of house guest from hell guilt (me + 6 weeks) and feeling pressure from back home to shoulder some responsibilities (anyone need to rent a 2-bedroom apartment in oakland?!?!?! email me), plus feeling sad about what i thought my realistic job opps were going to be once back in SH. i know one thing about myself - i function much more productively with structure. although i do want to try this freelance thing, it really takes a flexible, reasonable person to have faith in oneself when in a foreign land and relatively un-connected and wanting to freelance. the hk job market is much better if you're on a corporate path, which i have been and am used to. mainland china is really more a frontier scene for the risk-takers, the independently wealthy, the entrepreneurs. i could just feel myself slipping into a debilitating bout of self-doubt about my abilities as a writer, and building a vicious cycle of limiting myself because of my fears. it happened early on in my career, and luckily i landed a sweet job that helped me build my work confidence with the help of a great boss and mentor. so, that said, things are starting to look up but i'll believe it when i see it.
ha.
switching gears, last night went to saleya on a friend's recommendation - met alvin and lisa for dinner. it's a tiny tiny little french bistro that shares an address with a produce stand (the proprietor of which was running laps in front of his small business as i walked by) and an italian restaurant, which i gather is owned by the same partners as saleya. the main reason i decided to go was that saleya is known for both good food and reasonable prices. reasonable, definitely. you can order a 3-course meal for 158 rmb (just over $20) , which for me included a generously-sized nicoise salad, lamb chops (4 of them on top of a pile of ratatouille), and a dessert. they were also very generous with the bread basket and accompanying tapenade, although initially they served us the bread with salad dressing. honestly, it was good either way. lisa ordered the last beef fillet so alvin settled for the mashed potatoes and sausage. all three were good, simple home style cooking. saleya isn't setting new records in culinary innovation, and i'd venture to say that my mom could go head-to-head with them and win, especially with my dish, but my mom is an extraordinary cook and i have no qualms with simple, home style fare. plus my mom doesn't have a restaurant and isn't here. the wine list was great - i'm still on the wagon, but i took a good long look for future reference and about 2/3 of their red wine list was under 300 rmb. the owner recommended the house red for 198 rmb and it was excellent (i did deign to sample it). good deal. and alvin fell in love all over again; he is the biggest sucker for molten chocolate cake that i've ever met. seriously. he ordered it last night and when his face semi-crumples in appreciation of a dish, you know you've just scored yourself a new fan.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
thunderstorms
nap time turned into down-for-the-count. cyn tells me this morning that i slept through a thunderstorm last night. i slept through dinner and much more, but it was much-needed rest so that's ok. woke up around 3 am wondering where i was, then was relieved to realize i was at home. i guess that's normal after so much traveling.
monday mornings are always ayi mornings - she comes breezing in and kodi is running around, excited to see her. today she was bearing goodies: she'd made us her own version of a dan bing. yummy. and vegetarian, which is how i like to start off my day.
monday mornings are always ayi mornings - she comes breezing in and kodi is running around, excited to see her. today she was bearing goodies: she'd made us her own version of a dan bing. yummy. and vegetarian, which is how i like to start off my day.
honey lemon tea
de la coast was quiet last night so after waiting for our friend sherry we decided to change venues. met up with the syzygy peeps at the naked cow, where cyn and i polished off the rest of gregor and vince's dinner, even tho we'd had a big meal before we left home. sweet potatoes, mmm. brussel sprouts, mmm. i love brussel sprouts.
we met up with frank and jer at FCC, where there was a 42 below party (vodka brand). from the looks of it, the theme was a clockwork orange; so entry was 100 rmb which got you two drinks. the drink 'tickets' were self-adhesive fake eyelashes. get it? cyn wore hers haphazardly stuck on her face for most of the night. cute. i gave mine to a drunk vince who didn't need them anyway because he was wearing the VIP bowler hat and had unlimited drinks.
last night must've been my lucky night because i heard more lines than i'd gotten in a while. i even got the classic, 'i'm sorry, have i met you before?' it was one for the books. it's just positive reinforcement for being on the wagon. last night was also my first night out since deciding to hold off on the drinking, and i was surprised at how difficult it was. i don't think that i have a 'habit' by any means - there are a lot of parties here in SH, but i just don't have the physical capacity to be a 24-7 party girl so i'm not one by default. but i decided to eliminate it for a while, for personal reasons. it was really interesting not being sloshed by the end of the night at an all-nighter SH night. i mean, i went to sleep after 8 this morning and am limping by on about 2 hours of sleep, but i feel ok. and it was great to go into the bathroom at 4 am and see that my reflection did not include a bloodshot eyes and smeary makeup. no stumbling, no falling.
i know it's not a newsflash, but alcohol really is such a way of life in this town. you start off with a quiet cocktail or three to warm up, then start advancing to bigger, louder parties where there's usually free flow for at least part of the night. on long nights we wind down with a few beers afterwards. i honestly don't know some nights how i went the whole time in 3-ish inch stilettos without breaking my face on pavement. funny how some dynamics just don't appear without liquid courage - kind of staggering to think about. people interact with each other extended on the plank that alcohol facilitates.
naptime.
we met up with frank and jer at FCC, where there was a 42 below party (vodka brand). from the looks of it, the theme was a clockwork orange; so entry was 100 rmb which got you two drinks. the drink 'tickets' were self-adhesive fake eyelashes. get it? cyn wore hers haphazardly stuck on her face for most of the night. cute. i gave mine to a drunk vince who didn't need them anyway because he was wearing the VIP bowler hat and had unlimited drinks.
last night must've been my lucky night because i heard more lines than i'd gotten in a while. i even got the classic, 'i'm sorry, have i met you before?' it was one for the books. it's just positive reinforcement for being on the wagon. last night was also my first night out since deciding to hold off on the drinking, and i was surprised at how difficult it was. i don't think that i have a 'habit' by any means - there are a lot of parties here in SH, but i just don't have the physical capacity to be a 24-7 party girl so i'm not one by default. but i decided to eliminate it for a while, for personal reasons. it was really interesting not being sloshed by the end of the night at an all-nighter SH night. i mean, i went to sleep after 8 this morning and am limping by on about 2 hours of sleep, but i feel ok. and it was great to go into the bathroom at 4 am and see that my reflection did not include a bloodshot eyes and smeary makeup. no stumbling, no falling.
i know it's not a newsflash, but alcohol really is such a way of life in this town. you start off with a quiet cocktail or three to warm up, then start advancing to bigger, louder parties where there's usually free flow for at least part of the night. on long nights we wind down with a few beers afterwards. i honestly don't know some nights how i went the whole time in 3-ish inch stilettos without breaking my face on pavement. funny how some dynamics just don't appear without liquid courage - kind of staggering to think about. people interact with each other extended on the plank that alcohol facilitates.
naptime.
Friday, April 13, 2007
TGIF
i'm home. arrived in shanghai this afternoon.
definitely never going to live in guangzhou. let me put it this way - gz is so dirty that when i was sailing along in a cab on my way home from the airport, i actually stuck my head out of the window and thought (rather, exclaimed) to myself, 'wow! shanghai is so clean!' now that's just fucked up. just relieved to be back in civilization, i think.
went home, hung up a dress, and immediately my clothes-hanger rack snapped and collapsed. yup. i'm definitely home now.
will now be heading to bed where there is no hard tile floor under my back, no dirty china hotel sheets, no button that illuminates the 'do not disturb' button near my door. granted, it's covered in clothes that will soon be on the floor, but i'm not complaining. i'm no longer living out of a suitcase with clothes that i packed with the intention of trucking around southern vietnam in. i arranged the 4,000 grooming items i've purchased in my 8 weeks away - lotions, facial cleansers, scrubs, serums, eye gel - in a nice row in my bathroom, which now looks like an upscale watsons. i washed a lot of laundry. had some thai food with cyn. unpacked some more. it's a nice feeling.
tomorrow i intend to get my ass to yoga and attempt to shake loose the knots and globules that have knit and accumulated, respectively, since i've been gone. then we have a stiletto party at de la coast.
good night.
definitely never going to live in guangzhou. let me put it this way - gz is so dirty that when i was sailing along in a cab on my way home from the airport, i actually stuck my head out of the window and thought (rather, exclaimed) to myself, 'wow! shanghai is so clean!' now that's just fucked up. just relieved to be back in civilization, i think.
went home, hung up a dress, and immediately my clothes-hanger rack snapped and collapsed. yup. i'm definitely home now.
will now be heading to bed where there is no hard tile floor under my back, no dirty china hotel sheets, no button that illuminates the 'do not disturb' button near my door. granted, it's covered in clothes that will soon be on the floor, but i'm not complaining. i'm no longer living out of a suitcase with clothes that i packed with the intention of trucking around southern vietnam in. i arranged the 4,000 grooming items i've purchased in my 8 weeks away - lotions, facial cleansers, scrubs, serums, eye gel - in a nice row in my bathroom, which now looks like an upscale watsons. i washed a lot of laundry. had some thai food with cyn. unpacked some more. it's a nice feeling.
tomorrow i intend to get my ass to yoga and attempt to shake loose the knots and globules that have knit and accumulated, respectively, since i've been gone. then we have a stiletto party at de la coast.
good night.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
kiln
i wasn't kidding.
blogger has gone from chinese to german to french. i prefer french because it's pretty close to spanish and i can therefore understand some of the buttons.
i'm listening to 'every time' by britney spears over and over again. are you concerned now? i can't ignore the syntax errors in the lyrics but the melody and bpm is suiting my dismal mental state right now.
blogger has gone from chinese to german to french. i prefer french because it's pretty close to spanish and i can therefore understand some of the buttons.
i'm listening to 'every time' by britney spears over and over again. are you concerned now? i can't ignore the syntax errors in the lyrics but the melody and bpm is suiting my dismal mental state right now.
another day, another hotel
i'm grateful that there's ethernet here. there doesn't seem to be much else, although if i'm feeling up to it i can purchase the women's or men's underwear or socks or various prophylactics located conveniently on a rack in my bathroom.
back in foshan from guangzhou yesterday.
so i spent the morning yesterday with fibi (sic - it's pronounced phoebe), a girl that magically appeared out of the thin air on my last trip here and i later deduced had been summoned to come and speak with me because her english is fair. my uncle handed her the keys to someone's car, and we went to see a famous kiln that fires the ceramics that foshan is famous for and has been around since the ming dynasty, whenever that was. 500 years ago.
yes, i went to see a large kiln yesterday. i even took pictures because i think that's what you do when someone takes you to see a famous sight in her hometown and seems quite excited by it herself. it would be like me taking someone to see the, uh, paramount theater or the mormon temple, i guess. we also went to see furniture city, which david wanted very badly for me to see for some reason, but the main - aka 'modern' - part of it was shut down because there was no electricity. we didn't stay long in the uncool part and bailed in favor of lunch. my uncle magically appeared at one point during lunch (how does he do that?) and i was whisked off to another destination, this time a street corner by the hospital where my health check was performed, where we loitered for several minutes until david showed up to collect my passport for one reason or another. then my uncle and i hopped into the car (who's car was it anyway?) and lo and behold! picked up another person, david's sister, helen, then went to guangzhou. for some reason, i can't stay awake when i'm in a car, so next thing i know my uncle is barking my name and points out a hotel for me to admire. great. i know better than to think we're staying there because it's fancy. i close my eyes again and we're at helen's apartment. we go in and her parents are feverishly cooking dinner and i meet her niece and park my dazed ass on the sofa while various snacks of the preserved fruit variety are thrust at me and i just blink at them, overwhelmed by the choices and the complete randomness of my life at that point. i keep hearing peeps about me staying the night at the family's spare apartment and how one of the sisters is out buying furniture so i can sleep there. i'm ushered to the table and i consume dinner. helen's mother is talking nonstop and her father is glugging down copious amounts of bai jiu and i believe he's quite hammered. just like my grandparents, actually. her niece, ga ga (no, i'm not kidding) throws various english phrases at me and i smile at her because i don't know what else to do. she has a semi-tamed afro and her hair looks like a mushroom, but she's kinda cute in an earnest way. after dinner helen performs the most involved tea preparation i've ever seen and i drink lots of pu-er tea out of politeness. then my uncle and helen and myself truck across the courtyard to the apartment where i am to spend the night, apparently by myself. when the door is finally shoved open, i immediately start fearing for my well-being. the apartment is cool if you're into filth and lots of dust, which i'm not because dust triggers my asthma. and there is no furniture in the filthy room where i need to sleep, except for a desk. i put my foot down and tell my uncle that it's far too troublesome for the family to purchase furniture and clean the apartment for my sake (ahem) so i would rather stay in a hotel. i think he sees the wild look in my eyes and agrees. he is rather fastidious himself and i think he might have been sympathetic. helen makes a phone call and we jump into a taxi, where we are dropped off on a dark street in front of an empty storefront and a bank that is now closed since it's 10 pm. we finally locate a doorway vaguely resembling a hotel, and my uncle checks me in. it looks like a hotel, but it doesn't. i have enough curiosity to ask if it's a hotel. my uncle says yes, it's a hotel for customs officers (which helen is). my luggage is in a car somewhere that is not with us, so we go upstairs to my room and after about 15 minutes my uncle and helen leave. he tells me he is going to get my luggage which is now downstairs.
two hours later - i was watching the beginning of the fifth element when they left and when he got back i was well into some bug show - my uncle bangs on the door and scares the shit out of me. my luggage has appeared. he leaves me at the hotel and i am very grateful for my belongings. i have no control over my life and that is okay.
i thought i was staying 2 nights at the customs agent hotel, so when my uncle comes to pick me up the next day i'm not packed. he and the confused housekeeping person literally sit in the room and watch me as i frantically throw my belongings into my bags. i was intending to re-pack so most of my shit is everywhere. i get in another vehicle - a champagne minivan this time, equipped with a driver - and we start driving. we venture down a small street and i see a familiar face - one of my uncle's friends. we pick him up and keep driving. we're back in foshan, and go to a huge restaurant where we have yet another private room and a lunch so fancy that the chef comes into the room and cooks two of the dishes in front of us. abalone. oysters. steamed fish. the foie gras of chinese cuisine. the friend continues to chastise me for not speaking chinese in either form. i eat lunch and try not to look mildly irritated because i know he's paying for lunch. we finish, get in the car and drive about 20 yards to our new hotel. with an entire afternoon ahead of me and no apparent internet access, i completely unpack and repack with hope that i'll streamline the volume of my luggage. in my efforts i spy an ethernet cable, which is the happiest moment of my day. i spend the rest of the afternoon emailing my family and friends about where the fuck in the universe i actually am and why. my uncle again scares the shit out of me by banging on the door. we are to leave. he hands me my passport and various immigration documents. we're going to visit a factory and something about my ticket back to shanghai. while walking through the lobby, david appears and we get in his car. we drive around and park near a 'hot sandwich board' sign on an industrial building. we go into an office, and a man shouting on the phone stops shouting and takes us on a tour of a small printing factory. david is making funny faces at me, which is okay because he's kinda goofy-friendly. we get back in the car. we go next to park in an alley somewhere in the bustling area of foshan and my uncle motions for me to stay in the car. he reappears about 10 minutes later with my plane ticket back to civilization: tomorrow at 1 pm. we drive and park somewhere else. outside of an apartment building. my uncle gets out and david starts trying to convince me to go to karaoke with him and fibi. he unabashedly sings me two songs in mandarin, after which i clap. he's really not bad. my uncle gets back in the car and we go to a restaurant, to a private room. we order and eat, and two people i've met before show up. the 'old woman,' as my uncles refers to her, and the smaller, quiet man that follows her around. as usual, she refuses to eat and has brought another sheaf of work papers that she waves around. david practices his english on me while the woman talks. and talks. and talks. she finally consents to picking out all of the gingko nuts out of one of our dishes, and eats dessert. upon leaving my uncle instructs me to follow her and i am driven back to the hotel by another man who appeared during dinner and will be driving me to the airport tomorrow. they insist on all getting out of the car, and the woman escorts me into the lobby and i forcibly prevent her from taking me to my room. she shouts my room number to all the employees in the lobby who nod at her and repeat it loudly. i escape to my room. that woman annoyed me when i first met her and since we haven't spoken directly to each other i can only say it's because she's very bossy and i don't like it.
i am concerned for my mental well-being. eating toblerone should not be considered a form of entertainment.
back in foshan from guangzhou yesterday.
so i spent the morning yesterday with fibi (sic - it's pronounced phoebe), a girl that magically appeared out of the thin air on my last trip here and i later deduced had been summoned to come and speak with me because her english is fair. my uncle handed her the keys to someone's car, and we went to see a famous kiln that fires the ceramics that foshan is famous for and has been around since the ming dynasty, whenever that was. 500 years ago.
yes, i went to see a large kiln yesterday. i even took pictures because i think that's what you do when someone takes you to see a famous sight in her hometown and seems quite excited by it herself. it would be like me taking someone to see the, uh, paramount theater or the mormon temple, i guess. we also went to see furniture city, which david wanted very badly for me to see for some reason, but the main - aka 'modern' - part of it was shut down because there was no electricity. we didn't stay long in the uncool part and bailed in favor of lunch. my uncle magically appeared at one point during lunch (how does he do that?) and i was whisked off to another destination, this time a street corner by the hospital where my health check was performed, where we loitered for several minutes until david showed up to collect my passport for one reason or another. then my uncle and i hopped into the car (who's car was it anyway?) and lo and behold! picked up another person, david's sister, helen, then went to guangzhou. for some reason, i can't stay awake when i'm in a car, so next thing i know my uncle is barking my name and points out a hotel for me to admire. great. i know better than to think we're staying there because it's fancy. i close my eyes again and we're at helen's apartment. we go in and her parents are feverishly cooking dinner and i meet her niece and park my dazed ass on the sofa while various snacks of the preserved fruit variety are thrust at me and i just blink at them, overwhelmed by the choices and the complete randomness of my life at that point. i keep hearing peeps about me staying the night at the family's spare apartment and how one of the sisters is out buying furniture so i can sleep there. i'm ushered to the table and i consume dinner. helen's mother is talking nonstop and her father is glugging down copious amounts of bai jiu and i believe he's quite hammered. just like my grandparents, actually. her niece, ga ga (no, i'm not kidding) throws various english phrases at me and i smile at her because i don't know what else to do. she has a semi-tamed afro and her hair looks like a mushroom, but she's kinda cute in an earnest way. after dinner helen performs the most involved tea preparation i've ever seen and i drink lots of pu-er tea out of politeness. then my uncle and helen and myself truck across the courtyard to the apartment where i am to spend the night, apparently by myself. when the door is finally shoved open, i immediately start fearing for my well-being. the apartment is cool if you're into filth and lots of dust, which i'm not because dust triggers my asthma. and there is no furniture in the filthy room where i need to sleep, except for a desk. i put my foot down and tell my uncle that it's far too troublesome for the family to purchase furniture and clean the apartment for my sake (ahem) so i would rather stay in a hotel. i think he sees the wild look in my eyes and agrees. he is rather fastidious himself and i think he might have been sympathetic. helen makes a phone call and we jump into a taxi, where we are dropped off on a dark street in front of an empty storefront and a bank that is now closed since it's 10 pm. we finally locate a doorway vaguely resembling a hotel, and my uncle checks me in. it looks like a hotel, but it doesn't. i have enough curiosity to ask if it's a hotel. my uncle says yes, it's a hotel for customs officers (which helen is). my luggage is in a car somewhere that is not with us, so we go upstairs to my room and after about 15 minutes my uncle and helen leave. he tells me he is going to get my luggage which is now downstairs.
two hours later - i was watching the beginning of the fifth element when they left and when he got back i was well into some bug show - my uncle bangs on the door and scares the shit out of me. my luggage has appeared. he leaves me at the hotel and i am very grateful for my belongings. i have no control over my life and that is okay.
i thought i was staying 2 nights at the customs agent hotel, so when my uncle comes to pick me up the next day i'm not packed. he and the confused housekeeping person literally sit in the room and watch me as i frantically throw my belongings into my bags. i was intending to re-pack so most of my shit is everywhere. i get in another vehicle - a champagne minivan this time, equipped with a driver - and we start driving. we venture down a small street and i see a familiar face - one of my uncle's friends. we pick him up and keep driving. we're back in foshan, and go to a huge restaurant where we have yet another private room and a lunch so fancy that the chef comes into the room and cooks two of the dishes in front of us. abalone. oysters. steamed fish. the foie gras of chinese cuisine. the friend continues to chastise me for not speaking chinese in either form. i eat lunch and try not to look mildly irritated because i know he's paying for lunch. we finish, get in the car and drive about 20 yards to our new hotel. with an entire afternoon ahead of me and no apparent internet access, i completely unpack and repack with hope that i'll streamline the volume of my luggage. in my efforts i spy an ethernet cable, which is the happiest moment of my day. i spend the rest of the afternoon emailing my family and friends about where the fuck in the universe i actually am and why. my uncle again scares the shit out of me by banging on the door. we are to leave. he hands me my passport and various immigration documents. we're going to visit a factory and something about my ticket back to shanghai. while walking through the lobby, david appears and we get in his car. we drive around and park near a 'hot sandwich board' sign on an industrial building. we go into an office, and a man shouting on the phone stops shouting and takes us on a tour of a small printing factory. david is making funny faces at me, which is okay because he's kinda goofy-friendly. we get back in the car. we go next to park in an alley somewhere in the bustling area of foshan and my uncle motions for me to stay in the car. he reappears about 10 minutes later with my plane ticket back to civilization: tomorrow at 1 pm. we drive and park somewhere else. outside of an apartment building. my uncle gets out and david starts trying to convince me to go to karaoke with him and fibi. he unabashedly sings me two songs in mandarin, after which i clap. he's really not bad. my uncle gets back in the car and we go to a restaurant, to a private room. we order and eat, and two people i've met before show up. the 'old woman,' as my uncles refers to her, and the smaller, quiet man that follows her around. as usual, she refuses to eat and has brought another sheaf of work papers that she waves around. david practices his english on me while the woman talks. and talks. and talks. she finally consents to picking out all of the gingko nuts out of one of our dishes, and eats dessert. upon leaving my uncle instructs me to follow her and i am driven back to the hotel by another man who appeared during dinner and will be driving me to the airport tomorrow. they insist on all getting out of the car, and the woman escorts me into the lobby and i forcibly prevent her from taking me to my room. she shouts my room number to all the employees in the lobby who nod at her and repeat it loudly. i escape to my room. that woman annoyed me when i first met her and since we haven't spoken directly to each other i can only say it's because she's very bossy and i don't like it.
i am concerned for my mental well-being. eating toblerone should not be considered a form of entertainment.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
bored in foshan
i'm so bored i started a myspace page. i know, i know, believe me, i know. my little cousin has a myspace page and she thinks manga is a literary genre. but if you're bored or juvenile enough to do the same thing, go add me as a friend. right now i only have 2 so i'm feeling lame.
back in foSHAN. about 30 km away from guangzhou. still working on getting back to SH. other than that i don't know what to tell you. when the highlight of my day is the DSL in my hotel room, you know you need help. tomorrow my uncle's 'friend' david is taking me to see Furniture City, about which i'm skeptical. i think i told him that i used to buy furniture for a living; either that or foshan really doesn't have much to offer in the way of sightseeing and their one attraction just happens to involve my former livelihood. i think i'll take my camera so i can report back. i am also unsure as to how i communicated this to david if i did, because my chinese is so dismal and i'd venture to say his english is worse. maybe i performed charades.
having your own hotel room is pretty cool. it's like having your own little apartment. i live by my own schedule and can even take a bath in the middle of the night, like i used to do at my apartment. i'm luxuriating in having my own space right now, after being a houseguest in a small apartment for way too long.
it was kind of weird leaving hong kong. i have all of my luggage with me because the word for now is that i'm actually going back to SH this week. (i'll believe it when my plane touches down at PVG.) i think i started getting settled in my odd nomad life in HK. my little room jam-packed with the fruits of my shopping labors, the folding mat i slept on for 6 weeks, having to coordinate a shower schedule with 2 other people, using stuff that wasn't mine all the time. it sounds nightmarish but it was actually oddly comforting to be around family and play the little kid for a while. people serve you at dinner, you feel trapped and hemmed-in, but strangely pampered. cosseted. i realize how much freedom my parents allowed me as a child. privacy, namely. my mom would naturally want to know where i was every day, but i didn't need to regurgitate full reports on every movement like it seems my relatives do. my aunt calls my mother every 3 days and gives her the rundown on what i've been up to. since i only saw my aunt about once a week, i can't imagine there was much to talk about, but then again, i know better. my cousin will tell my aunt what i ate that day, what i liked and what i didn't out of what was ordered, what i was up to at the moment, what i did all day, whether or not i had showered yet, and a random tidbit of something i'd said or a mistake that i'd made or something. i'm sure my mom was briefed in full.
i do have one adventure to report - i tried absinthe (in its weaker, modern form) the other night. i also retched violently for 6 hours afterwards, so i don't recommend it. additionally, it tastes like complete shit, so i don't understand what all the hype is about. i could eat tainted meat for the same effect, and arguably enjoy it more. i took the retching as a sign that my body needs some rest, so i'm abstaining from sinful behaviors for a while. i've been toying with the idea of abstaining permanently from several things. my body reacts violently and unpredictably at times, so occasionally i wonder if there are biological explanations for the inconsistencies. if i'm not born to be a drinker, so be it. but don't be ok with me consuming 10+ drinks one night with little to no effect, and then a mere 4 on another night and become indescribably ill. i'm beginning to suspect that there's a fairly obvious answer out there for me to notice.
listening to the cure now. i should go to bed soon because my entertainment committee has to be summoned tomorrow to drive me around the delights of foshan. another day filled with me picking at my nails and trying to decipher a few words here and there, carefully guarding my facial expressions so that i don't appear bored or grumpy (as i've been told my normal face looks) even tho i kind of am. i appreciate the efforts that david and company are exerting on my behalf, but despite insisting that i am more than happy to stay at my hotel chained to the dsl all day, my uncle and his friends feel deeply compelled to ensure that i am thoroughly amused. maybe being a loner is considered strange in china. i find it exhausting to interact with people i don't know well with all day long for several days in a row. tonight i just gave up and completely disengaged during dinner, and openly started an sms conversation with cynthia while everyone else was talking. no one seemed to notice. my uncle started falling asleep at one point, so i took this to be a good sign.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
shhh... everybody's still sleeping
it's past noon and my fams is still snoring away. that's definitely a liu thing. those of us that have inherited the recessive gene of infinite sleep capacity are fortunate and envied. my aunt once slept the entire way on a flight from hong kong to san francisco. she fell asleep at takeoff and woke up in san francisco. i'm one of those who, if not forced up, can sleep indefinitely. i think that might be what enables my wicked coffee habit.
biann treated me to my first professional brow shaping yesterday. she probably felt bad for me because while i was waiting for hers, i was watching with such fascination that i was practically in her lap. it looks cool. i've only ever done my own brows, with mixed results. i'm too lazy to be super thorough and like, tweeze my goddamned forehead like i swear this girl was doing yesterday. my cousin even noticed when he met us for dinner last night and he's one of those dudes that doesn't buy his own clothes and watches sports incessantly, so i KNOW i must've been looking raggedy. i've kind of given up on personal appearence here for some reason. i don't have my tools and its frustrating, so i just like to say fuck it and walk around all lookin through.
i would take a picture and show you, but i haven't washed up and i'm crusty and sporting my cousin's bathrobe.
for those of you who are interested, it's fun to go and get your brows done. i never knew that my eyebrows were too long, and i mean the actual length, not the eyebrow hair. shouldn't extend past the inner corner of your eye. i've read this a million times in beauty magazines, but who actually takes the pencil or makeup brush and checks? kinda opens up your face a bit if they're the right length. the makeup person also kinda capped on my choice of brow pencil, which is brown but shows up reddish on me. i know the color totally doesn't match my hair, but like i said i've been incredibly unconcerned these days and can't be bothered to seek out matchy-matchy.
i also asked the girl to help with some under-eye concealer, because i've noticed these alarming dark circles under my eyes of late (despite being arguably the most rested person on the continent), but she sucked at that. she applied some pasty shit that was clearly far too light, and then pretended not to notice when it immediately got absorbed into my hella dry skin all in patches, so i looked ashy, patchy, and somewhat pyschotic (you ever notice how crazy women walk around in the streets with some fucked up makeup?).
biann treated me to my first professional brow shaping yesterday. she probably felt bad for me because while i was waiting for hers, i was watching with such fascination that i was practically in her lap. it looks cool. i've only ever done my own brows, with mixed results. i'm too lazy to be super thorough and like, tweeze my goddamned forehead like i swear this girl was doing yesterday. my cousin even noticed when he met us for dinner last night and he's one of those dudes that doesn't buy his own clothes and watches sports incessantly, so i KNOW i must've been looking raggedy. i've kind of given up on personal appearence here for some reason. i don't have my tools and its frustrating, so i just like to say fuck it and walk around all lookin through.
i would take a picture and show you, but i haven't washed up and i'm crusty and sporting my cousin's bathrobe.
for those of you who are interested, it's fun to go and get your brows done. i never knew that my eyebrows were too long, and i mean the actual length, not the eyebrow hair. shouldn't extend past the inner corner of your eye. i've read this a million times in beauty magazines, but who actually takes the pencil or makeup brush and checks? kinda opens up your face a bit if they're the right length. the makeup person also kinda capped on my choice of brow pencil, which is brown but shows up reddish on me. i know the color totally doesn't match my hair, but like i said i've been incredibly unconcerned these days and can't be bothered to seek out matchy-matchy.
i also asked the girl to help with some under-eye concealer, because i've noticed these alarming dark circles under my eyes of late (despite being arguably the most rested person on the continent), but she sucked at that. she applied some pasty shit that was clearly far too light, and then pretended not to notice when it immediately got absorbed into my hella dry skin all in patches, so i looked ashy, patchy, and somewhat pyschotic (you ever notice how crazy women walk around in the streets with some fucked up makeup?).
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
i'm wearing my hood
the funny thing about humidity is that it amplifies whatever weather you're experiencing. it makes hot weather even hotter. and it makes cold weather cling to you. the one solitary lesson that i have learned since moving OUT of the bay area and INTO asia is that bay area weather is ideal.
us kids that grew up there are used to hearing it - blah blah, yeah, we know we're lucky, whatever, can we go eat now? but seriously. in humidity, important things like towels and laundry don't dry. (and dryers, being an american fixation, are uncommon in asia. fucking don't ask me why, because they're the ones with the humidity issue.) and when towels and laundry don't dry in under, let's say, 3 days, they start to emanate this funk. sour washrag funk. my sister associates the smell with hong kong, and logically so, because if your towel at home smells like it does here, you'd throw it immediately into the washer, crank it to hot water and dump in all the detergent you can find. but when your towels smells like someone dragged it in the gutter here, you shake it off and dry yourself off as normal, knowing you just changed towels yesterday.
that is irritating as shit, you know.
so last night i topped off my mcdonald's meal deal #9 consumed at 5:30 pm with two greasy-ass slices of pizza, a bowl of cream of mushroom soup, pasta with ham and peas and ground meat of some variety, and chicken wings. oh yeah, and mashed potato with escargot. 'sets' are big here - you don't just order pizza, you order a fucking banquet. the typical hk breakfast is a set; so you order your macaroni in chicken broth with ham or your instant noodles with jia choi and pork, and you get two pieces of texas toast (crusts sawed off and soaked in margarine) and two fried eggs. i am still wondering why hong kees are so friggin tiny. they eat like paul bunyan. everyone orders a beverage of sorts - either lai cha (hot or cold), or lemon tea, or coffee. biann and i always order coffee with breakfast, and it comes with about 20% coffee and 80% creamer. asians like their drinks creamy as shit (with fake cream, preferably) and their bread soft like pound cake. it's interesting how an entire region can cultivate a specific propensity for textures and tastes.
eating breakfast at home seems to be a rare occurrence. on weekends, we always head downstairs and consume bowls of noodles or some rice plate. i bought some whole-grain bread (aha!) i managed to find in the supermarket downstairs and toasted that for breakfast before my cousin B got up this morning, and he seemed baffled that i made my own breakfast when i could so easily just go downstairs. one night i stayed home by myself and made dinner, and B wondered aloud about it for 3 days. he was completely confused as to why i would buy and cook food when i could so easily not engage in that whole thing and plunk down $25 hkd for a decent meal.
i think it boils down to regionalism. americans have space, so they have large homes and spend lots of time and money making that space very comfortable and nice, and want to spend time in that space. hong kees do not have space - they have tiny shoebox apartments (that smell like sour towels) and spend as little time as possible in them, and the thought of making food at home (if you can afford to eat out frequently) or staying in on friday nights is completely foreign. it's unnecessary, as well, because most corner places in hong kong serve some pretty fucking good food and it's cheap. take one look at the retail breakdowns and you'll see - apparel and accessories make up about 85% of the shops in a mall, the other 15% is food or coffee establishments. you don't have the huge home furnishings market in hong kong, you don't have people interested in making their apartment look like a crate & barrel catalog. there's no nesting compulsion because when your shit is like, 450 square feet, you don't have that many options.
it's like when we were in brazil - i wondered out loud why all the young couples we saw together were always completely making out. saadiq pointed out that all young people live at home with their parents, so the only private time (as it were) that they have with their bfs or gfs is when they're out at clubs or in the park or beach. that perspective was like, seeing google earth for the first time. of course. of course there are explanations for that. of course not the whole world is america. duh.
currently reading: write on, by elizabeth george. she's a mystery novelist and the book is about teaching the craft of writing. i've always been sort of arrogant about my writing, on one hand extremely private, and on the other, sort of presumptuous. WHAT can YOU teach me about writing? i've been writing fiction since i was 7, i know how to fucking write. but i am so foolish sometimes. writing a novel is a marathon, and i have dabbled in the occasional sprint. i wouldn't know how to research a novel, profile a character, or pitch an idea to a publisher if i got slapped in the head with all 3 at once. i highly recommend it if you one day aspire to be published, and if you want your shit to be good. i think i have the sensibility of writer, but i don't have the skills to sustain a long-term project. i have to learn these things.
(p.s. one of my favorite things is getting older. my mom doesn't like it because when she was my age my sister was born and she's got this deep hankering for grandchildren, but i do. every day you learn something new. you learn how dumb you are about something you've always been good at, you learn how to be patient, you learn that your friends and family are so important when you've never previously given it much thought, you get to know yourself and by doing this, make your contributions to the world so much more effective and significant. kumbaya. let's hold hands now.)
us kids that grew up there are used to hearing it - blah blah, yeah, we know we're lucky, whatever, can we go eat now? but seriously. in humidity, important things like towels and laundry don't dry. (and dryers, being an american fixation, are uncommon in asia. fucking don't ask me why, because they're the ones with the humidity issue.) and when towels and laundry don't dry in under, let's say, 3 days, they start to emanate this funk. sour washrag funk. my sister associates the smell with hong kong, and logically so, because if your towel at home smells like it does here, you'd throw it immediately into the washer, crank it to hot water and dump in all the detergent you can find. but when your towels smells like someone dragged it in the gutter here, you shake it off and dry yourself off as normal, knowing you just changed towels yesterday.
that is irritating as shit, you know.
so last night i topped off my mcdonald's meal deal #9 consumed at 5:30 pm with two greasy-ass slices of pizza, a bowl of cream of mushroom soup, pasta with ham and peas and ground meat of some variety, and chicken wings. oh yeah, and mashed potato with escargot. 'sets' are big here - you don't just order pizza, you order a fucking banquet. the typical hk breakfast is a set; so you order your macaroni in chicken broth with ham or your instant noodles with jia choi and pork, and you get two pieces of texas toast (crusts sawed off and soaked in margarine) and two fried eggs. i am still wondering why hong kees are so friggin tiny. they eat like paul bunyan. everyone orders a beverage of sorts - either lai cha (hot or cold), or lemon tea, or coffee. biann and i always order coffee with breakfast, and it comes with about 20% coffee and 80% creamer. asians like their drinks creamy as shit (with fake cream, preferably) and their bread soft like pound cake. it's interesting how an entire region can cultivate a specific propensity for textures and tastes.
eating breakfast at home seems to be a rare occurrence. on weekends, we always head downstairs and consume bowls of noodles or some rice plate. i bought some whole-grain bread (aha!) i managed to find in the supermarket downstairs and toasted that for breakfast before my cousin B got up this morning, and he seemed baffled that i made my own breakfast when i could so easily just go downstairs. one night i stayed home by myself and made dinner, and B wondered aloud about it for 3 days. he was completely confused as to why i would buy and cook food when i could so easily not engage in that whole thing and plunk down $25 hkd for a decent meal.
i think it boils down to regionalism. americans have space, so they have large homes and spend lots of time and money making that space very comfortable and nice, and want to spend time in that space. hong kees do not have space - they have tiny shoebox apartments (that smell like sour towels) and spend as little time as possible in them, and the thought of making food at home (if you can afford to eat out frequently) or staying in on friday nights is completely foreign. it's unnecessary, as well, because most corner places in hong kong serve some pretty fucking good food and it's cheap. take one look at the retail breakdowns and you'll see - apparel and accessories make up about 85% of the shops in a mall, the other 15% is food or coffee establishments. you don't have the huge home furnishings market in hong kong, you don't have people interested in making their apartment look like a crate & barrel catalog. there's no nesting compulsion because when your shit is like, 450 square feet, you don't have that many options.
it's like when we were in brazil - i wondered out loud why all the young couples we saw together were always completely making out. saadiq pointed out that all young people live at home with their parents, so the only private time (as it were) that they have with their bfs or gfs is when they're out at clubs or in the park or beach. that perspective was like, seeing google earth for the first time. of course. of course there are explanations for that. of course not the whole world is america. duh.
currently reading: write on, by elizabeth george. she's a mystery novelist and the book is about teaching the craft of writing. i've always been sort of arrogant about my writing, on one hand extremely private, and on the other, sort of presumptuous. WHAT can YOU teach me about writing? i've been writing fiction since i was 7, i know how to fucking write. but i am so foolish sometimes. writing a novel is a marathon, and i have dabbled in the occasional sprint. i wouldn't know how to research a novel, profile a character, or pitch an idea to a publisher if i got slapped in the head with all 3 at once. i highly recommend it if you one day aspire to be published, and if you want your shit to be good. i think i have the sensibility of writer, but i don't have the skills to sustain a long-term project. i have to learn these things.
(p.s. one of my favorite things is getting older. my mom doesn't like it because when she was my age my sister was born and she's got this deep hankering for grandchildren, but i do. every day you learn something new. you learn how dumb you are about something you've always been good at, you learn how to be patient, you learn that your friends and family are so important when you've never previously given it much thought, you get to know yourself and by doing this, make your contributions to the world so much more effective and significant. kumbaya. let's hold hands now.)
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
pizza hut tonight
i offered to make dinner tonight because biann's been doing a lot of cooking lately, but later we decided it would be pizza night tonight. right now i'm hungry so i'm thinking about food...ate a late breakfast which knocks out the possibility of a lunch. i haven't gone into a pizza hut here in hk, but in china these are fine-dining establishments. and truly, including the few top restaurants i've been to in asia, i swear that the best service i've had has been in pizza hut. go, western imperialism. or rather, western imperialism by proxy (capitalism, of course).
i made pancakes this morning because i've A: been craving pancakes, and B: need to use up some of the baking ingredients i bought for the cookies because i don't want to take them home with me (biann doesn't want them and probably will not use them) but sadly after beating the egg whites by hand and with a fork (chinese kitchens are not equipped with baking implements) and substituting milk with soymilk, they came out kind of dry. B was kind enough to eat 2 of them and commented that they were 'not bad' although he did say they were dry. lmao. canto honesty every time. i stuck some chocolate chips in mine and we found some honey to pour over them so that made them better.
i talked to my sister today for a long time. that was cool - we caught up on the dish and she got the full breakdown on what i did for 3 days in foshan with my uncle (mysterious stops on dark streets, karaoke with xiao jies and whiskey with green tea, me drugged out of my mind because of my food poisoning and the ensuing semi-conscious state thanks to lomotil) and i got the haps on the family unit on the other side of the ocean. for people addicted to heroin or opium or something, lomotil will do the trick. i've never been that stoned in my life. i would be sitting up watching TV and my eyes would keep rolling back in my head. and doctors willingly prescribe this to people, it's insane. i only took 2 of the 8 doses i was given because i couldn't hang, and it still took me 3 days after i stopped to get back to normal and stop acting like a freak.
i also got a cat update: they ran out of that advantage flea stuff so after grumbling, my dad threw down $50 for another pack (note to potential pet owners - advantage is the biggest racket outside of cell phone plans in the US) and they proceeded to dose the little monster. she reportedly scratched the shit out of my dad, who then grabbed her by the tail whilst she hissed and screamed, and my sister says that scarlett was literally swinging like a pendulum, screaming and hissing and trying to get at my dad who was pissed at that point for being scratched. she said she looked exactly like the tasmanian devil.
oops. the meek shall inherit the earth, so my cat ain't inheriting shit. she's a fucking monster and i'm the first person to admit it. my sister tried to cut her nails (you have to roll her in her blanket to do this without needing stitches) but again she acted like such an asshole that she only did one paw. if my cat was on that animal planet show where they rescue animals from neglectful households and then hold them at shelters for evaluation, her ass would've been euthanized long ago. i'm not sure why, but she has this insane streak. she acts like a rabid raccoon. it's embarrassing. and occasionally painful.
fuck, i'm hungry.
i made pancakes this morning because i've A: been craving pancakes, and B: need to use up some of the baking ingredients i bought for the cookies because i don't want to take them home with me (biann doesn't want them and probably will not use them) but sadly after beating the egg whites by hand and with a fork (chinese kitchens are not equipped with baking implements) and substituting milk with soymilk, they came out kind of dry. B was kind enough to eat 2 of them and commented that they were 'not bad' although he did say they were dry. lmao. canto honesty every time. i stuck some chocolate chips in mine and we found some honey to pour over them so that made them better.
i talked to my sister today for a long time. that was cool - we caught up on the dish and she got the full breakdown on what i did for 3 days in foshan with my uncle (mysterious stops on dark streets, karaoke with xiao jies and whiskey with green tea, me drugged out of my mind because of my food poisoning and the ensuing semi-conscious state thanks to lomotil) and i got the haps on the family unit on the other side of the ocean. for people addicted to heroin or opium or something, lomotil will do the trick. i've never been that stoned in my life. i would be sitting up watching TV and my eyes would keep rolling back in my head. and doctors willingly prescribe this to people, it's insane. i only took 2 of the 8 doses i was given because i couldn't hang, and it still took me 3 days after i stopped to get back to normal and stop acting like a freak.
i also got a cat update: they ran out of that advantage flea stuff so after grumbling, my dad threw down $50 for another pack (note to potential pet owners - advantage is the biggest racket outside of cell phone plans in the US) and they proceeded to dose the little monster. she reportedly scratched the shit out of my dad, who then grabbed her by the tail whilst she hissed and screamed, and my sister says that scarlett was literally swinging like a pendulum, screaming and hissing and trying to get at my dad who was pissed at that point for being scratched. she said she looked exactly like the tasmanian devil.
oops. the meek shall inherit the earth, so my cat ain't inheriting shit. she's a fucking monster and i'm the first person to admit it. my sister tried to cut her nails (you have to roll her in her blanket to do this without needing stitches) but again she acted like such an asshole that she only did one paw. if my cat was on that animal planet show where they rescue animals from neglectful households and then hold them at shelters for evaluation, her ass would've been euthanized long ago. i'm not sure why, but she has this insane streak. she acts like a rabid raccoon. it's embarrassing. and occasionally painful.
fuck, i'm hungry.
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