Not writers block, but laziness

            I wouldn't say I have writers block. My current issue is that every article I want to write will require significant effort in the picture taking and people watching department. Two activities I thoroughly enjoy, but as they say "ain't nobody got time for that." However, if you refer to my Facebook or Instagram account you will find pictures of some unknowing winners I have seen on the street.  I probably sound terrible, but we have all enjoyed some people watching, maybe not the Instagram portion, but nonetheless. 
          
           I have come to notice that when you need something there seems to be a total shortage, and when you don't need it there is a plethora of it. Let's take taxis for example. There are hundreds of fucking taxis on the street when you don't need one. The moment you do the streets are a barren stretch with little to no vehicles, maybe even some tumbleweeds rolling through. It happens with shopping too. You see the perfect item, at the moment you don't really need it but you know damn well the moment you do the store and everywhere else will be out of them. Or you will not want to put in the effort to go get it.  

              Just like the articles I want to write about the questionable safety and health habits I have witnessed here. Every time I see something I am in a hurry or don't have my camera handy. You tell yourself, "Next time." I already get stared at like an animal in the zoo, obviously I don't care about peoples' reactions to me taking photographs of seemingly uninteresting things. I will eventually draw up the motivation. 

                 In the meantime I thought I would share my favorite poem. Firstly this work is not mine, it was written by Max Ehrmann. As far as the copywrite goes, its somewhat ambiguous and an interesting story. If you really enjoy it go look it up, I won't bore you with it here. It has a very calming affect on me, I actually have a tendency to read it on my more stressful days. Maybe you'll see why I like it so much, if not, it isn't for everyone. 
                                 

                                                Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,

                                      and remember what peace there may be in silence. 

As far as possible, without surrender, 

be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others,

even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious

to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others,

you may become vain or bitter, for always

there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;

it is a real possession in the  changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;

many persons strive for high ideals,

and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.

Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment;

it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,

gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,

no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore, be at peace with God,

whatever you conceive Him to be.

And whatever your labors and aspirations

in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,

it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

#sororitygirlproblems almost three years later

It has become somewhat of a motto of mine. I say it with mostly adoration, the other half is a curse. After spending four years in one you will have forever friends, and some forever habits that you cannot break.

11.      I am now obsessed with planning and organizing events. Not like I wasn’t in uni, but I catch myself taking charge of group outings and making sure everyone is accounted for and enjoying themselves. There have been a few dinners, hikes, and outings that I felt the urge to take charge of. I can’t explain it it is very empowering to carry out a successful event.

I used to constantly test my limits for how many activities I could handle. Every time I succeeded I thought to myself, “Why not do more?” Having a full time job, keeping house, and regular exercise are just not enough for me. I wanted to constantly be on a marathon of extracurriculars. I can’t shake the habit. I hear about an event and I HAVE TO plan it, be in charge, or be involved in some way. I don’t think I can ever shake my need to be the leader. Act like a lady, think like a boss as they say.

22.       New people beware; I want to be your friend. I think this stems from all the recruiting I used to do. When I know of new people I have the urge to invite them to everything so they feel welcomed and immediately included. I am probably overbearing and making them overwhelmed. I think I scared off a few sorority prospects back in the day.Oh well.

This seems to be my thought process, whether I want to admit it or not:

“Oh you’re a new person?...I wonder if you have friends here…Who wouldn’t want to be friends with me I’m fantastic…Who wouldn’t want to be friends with my friends they’re fabulous…Maybe you need help finding stuff…I know where EVERYTHING is, I’m obviously the best candidate for this…Then we can grab lunch, because who doesn’t love food?”

33.       Crafts. You do so many fucking crafts as a sorority girl it’s obscene. I think I can still apply puffy paint with the precision of an artist, decoupage any object, and design a poster in my sleep. . I think by the end of uni I had well over 20 items including shirts, mugs, wine glasses, sweaters, banners, jewellery boxes.    China doesn’t sell puffy paint or heat bond which is good for me, I would have already made my ugly Christmas sweater. 

     However with the Christmas season approaching I notice my apartment not looking as “merry” as I would like. I blame Pinterest for my obsession with DIY crafts and making everything look chic and rustic. I probably spend more time pinning than doing the actual crafts. Last year I went nuts with mason jars, glitter, tea lights, and burlap. This year I am not sure what theme I am going for, maybe something gaudier. I'm thinking everything in GOLD, and more glitter than your rods and cones can handle. Either way, in a few weeks look out for how I made my apartment into a Christmas explosion.

When will it end? #sororitygirlproblems

More reason to love China....and the discovery of more non-nonsensical irrational fears

     Last night I went to the Chinese cinema for the first time. I have always loved going to the cinema. It has a nostalgic quality to it. I actually have a proud collection of all my ticket stubs since I was sixteen.  I never keep up with what is coming out so my friends always pick for me. I am the one dragging them to the film nights at the local art museum. They are fun either way. At the art museum I can drink a beer, at the cinema I can have popcorn swimming in enough grease to stop your heart during the previews.

     The cinemas here don't have the greasy popcorn, they have KETTLE CORN. Probably even worse for me because they are like potato chips, you cant have just one (handful). At least with the buttered stuff your mouth will feel like the Sahara desert with a grease slick, a good indication to stop. Kettle corn like the cinema is also very nostalgic to me. I used to always get it at fairs. No matter how much self control I exert the most left in the bag by the time I get home is about 30%. Needless to say, moderation goes out the window with kettle corn.

    What I was also unaware of is that it isn't rude to check your phone, or chit chat with your friend in the theatre. All of the bad habits that were so hard to restrain in the states, especially the chit chat. When you reach the climax of the movie I find it very difficult to not make comments. Having the freedom to do so without dirty looks from the usher was quite nice. This is not the only instance when I have been a bad customer. But that is another day, another article.

   I went to see Interstellar. It was an excellent movie, and much more Hollywood than I am used to. I've been on an indie and foreign kick so seeing things explode and futuristic shit is just the not norm for me. So you can only imagine my vocal reactions to the explosions, I did restrain myself a bit, out of respect for the other patrons.

    As much as I enjoyed this movie I discovered yet another thing I find unsettling. The infinite of outer space. There is something very unsettling about vastness. Which brings me to the rest of this post. The realization that the things I am terrified of are not only abnormal, they really don't make a lick of sense.


  I think I got my days cardio in from doing Google image searches for these.

   1. Infinite space- Something I can't wrap my head around.

   2. Shipwrecks- There is something really somber and ominous about them.

   3. Old fashioned scuba equipment- I read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea way too young.

    I used to want nothing to do with cockroaches, and now I can handle them. I am not quite sure how to get over these. But if you ever want to ruin my day, you now know how. 

Pet Peeves....inherited

             I made two recent observations, not sure if they are hysterical, really terrible or I am truly my mother’s daughter. 

                To begin I need to tell a background story. As an American I am quite fond of wing night. For those of you reading outside of the US, wing night in America is as much of a bar tradition as watching the game together. On certain nights or on game days they offer discounted fried chicken wings swimming in the sauce of your choice with a side of celery, carrots, and bleu cheese dressing. There are also beer specials, what better way to get your weeks calories in? I prefer the flaming hot ones, sometimes for the challenge, sometimes to prove to my spice lightweight friends that I can.

              

              I believe it goes without saying that there is no neat way to eat these. You are guaranteed to have sauce running all over your hands by the second wing.  And don’t have any cuts on your fingers; it hurts like hell getting wing sauce in them. The waitresses will even bring out baby wipes or a plethora of napkins for cleanup. Despite the wet-naps you are guaranteed to find wing sauce on your hairline and have sticky hands until you get a proper shower. But I still like to go, it’s good craic. 

As I got older I grew to detest getting my hands dirty. It was like a self-inflicted pet peeve. I wanted to have wing night so bad, but the mental stress could only be quelled by a beer or three.

Here is an image of typical wing night. On this particular occasion I got a gift card from purchasing phone insurance and almost got off with free wings. The coupon was 50% off, the special that night was 25%. Yes, the waitress gave us 75%, for the win. 

                My mother hates to get her hands dirty from food. I used to laugh when she ate pizza with a fork and a knife and now I find myself doing the same thing. Now here is the kicker to the story: The Chinese do not like having dirty hands either. If you go to a pizza place they will give you a plastic glove to eat it with. Where have these been all my life? I think I am going to stockpile on plastic gloves and never suffer through another wing night again.

           This afternoon one of the ladies in my office ordered in chicken. I love the idea of being able to order an entire rotisserie chicken for delivery. They even supplied gloves. Here is a picture of my afternoon snack. 

                The second one is that I have been molded to have good table manners. To the point where when I see someone holding a fork or knife incorrectly it is like looking at the sun during an eclipse. Actually I lied, when I see a boy I like holding silverware incorrectly they immediately get written off.  In my mind it makes perfect sense. What if I marry you and have to watch those god awful table manners my whole life? Fuck no.The reason I bring this one up is in China we use chopsticks. How will I know? Don’t bother with anyone. I can’t get involved with someone who turns out to be incapable of holding a fork.  There are more fish in the sea, and across the ocean for that matter. I am not sure if I am being too picky or just outright shallow and judgmental. 

          Either way this has been a problem of mine for a long time. I think since high school I have paid specific attention to table manners and if they didn't check out, well too bad for you. My mother actually told me a hilarious story, because the problem affects more than just me. My little brother had his date over for dinner before homecoming one year. Now if I were the girl in this story I would have slapped him and left. Dinner was served and my brother looks and her and goes "You eat like a caveman!! Don't you know how to hold a fork?" Oh little brother, there are things you don't say aloud, or on a date for that matter.

    

Me Talk Pretty One Day

     You're probably aghast at my title right? It is actually in reference to a hilarious collection of essays by David Sedaris I listened to on a long car ride to Florida. The one I remember specifically is when he was learning French and all of the nonsense he used to say in sincere attempts to produce the language. I suddenly find myself in those shoes, I am sincerely trying to speak Chinese, but sometimes what I intend to say is not what comes out. The joys of a tonal language.

   I wouldn't say I can speak Chinese. I can say words and have become very good at charades. I look at what I have learned in three months, and as useful as the words are, I need to start making sentences.

Here is a list of what I can say in Chinese:


Hello                           Chicken                  I know
Goodbye                     Pork                        Mobile phone
Good Night                 Menu                      Street
Left                             Bill                          Careful
Right                           Spicy                       Pretty girl
Leg                              Lamb                      Excuse me, where is my eggplant?
Inhale                          Hot                          A little
Exhale                         Water                      Small
Be quiet!                     Waiter                     Noodle
I'm a teacher                I'm American          Rice
School                         I don't understand.  That one
Eggplant                     Coffee                      To go
Pearl milk tea              Don't want               Dumplings
I'm embarrassed.         Don't have               I'm full
Bad                              Don't want              1-10
Good                           Soup                        Where is the restroom?
Tea                              Metro station           There!

    A pretty decent working vocabulary for someone who is hungry. I realize how odd I must seem walking into the coffee shop ordering my latte, with the help of my phone translator. I try to picture my Disney guests, none of them used a translator. They all played charades until I figured out what they wanted. Or spoke a string of Spanglish. On really bad days when I wasn't feeling helpful I would pretend to not understand. Of course until one of my co-workers called me out. But I have to give them credit for trying.

    How does one learn a new language? One of the keys is desire to learn and need to produce the language. I found the phrase for "I don't understand" and "That one!" to be quite useful. As I practiced and gained more confidence I started using the new phrases I learned here and there.

      Oh but the tones, the fucking tones. One afternoon I went with a friend for a bubble tea. I confidently placed my order at the counter and as soon as I finished speaking my friend turns to me, "You just ordered a golden pig..."
Well I'll be damned,! They only serve tea here hopefully the context clues helped. Furthermore they were probably secretly giggling at my attempt and failure.

     There was another evening where I wanted some soup but obviously did not want to do the work of cooking it. I went to a a place in my neighborhood with a post it note and sputtered out what Google translate described as noodle soup. After placing the order I quickly made the motion of a box and a bag. When my order came out in dishes I did the motion again, but this time added the leaving gesture. She understood and brought out a bag and a to-go container.

   The other day in class I had a student with a neck brace. I can say confidently that Chinese children are brutal to each other. I've never seen such roughhousing in my life that seems to be totally acceptable. In the middle of class his friend removes his neck brace and I had a maternal moment of panic. Obviously the brace was there for a reason, and only someone semi-qualified or a parent should be taking it off. I stopped my lesson and ran toward his friend and yelled "CAREFUL" , in English of course. They look at me casually and in Chinese replied "I don't understand." Luckily a girl in the class translated for me and that is how I learned the word for careful.

     Feeling confident I started using the word for careful. I was out with some friends and one of them almost tripped and I used my Chinese to tell them "careful". I got yet another look. "You just said small sex..." Fucking tones again. At this point I don't care about the people on the street giving me funny looks for my attempt at their language.

   What can be really funny is that many Chinese children at least think of their language as some secret code that we just won't ever understand. They say things in class in Chinese and their reaction when you can answer them in Chinese is so entertaining, The class will go silent and the expressions will change to shock. You'll have whispers of "she knows...she knows...she understands." They can exasperate me but I have not reached the day I have needed to use "be quiet." I'm saving that one like the last slice of cake, it is just going to be too good of a reaction.