Sorry for the long absence again… I just haven’t been in the mood lately. One reason could be my getting upstaged by my blogging protege, i.e. Bubbey, who also happens to be a self-proclaimed, award-winning photographer. I mean come on, how can I compete for readership when competition is so damn fierce? Ok, just kidding. Really, I just haven’t been up to it. For one, the daily news continues to depress me: another goddamn fucking blast in China’s deadly coal mines, the US and its continuing bullshit practices and policies, Alito and his anti-abortion agenda, wars here, fighting there, torture who knows where… seriously, who can deal with this? Every day, I feel more and more strongly about my no kid policy. Two misanthropes simply cannot raise a child. On that note, I’m trying to focus on more positive things. What better diversion than food? So, I’ve been on another dangerous baking kick. I’ve baked like three yellow cakes in one week. Luckily, two were for parties (Yeah, can you believe? We’re actually getting invited to dinner parties?). Actually, I’ve wanted to branch out to other recipes, but I can’t find ground cloves for the life of me. I’ve gone to Carrefour, City Super, the upscale Lianhua, and Hui Jin. I’m told the Pines may have it. Last time, I just omitted cloves from the recipe. I mean, really, can 3/4 teaspoon be that critical? According to John’s sophisticated palette, the answer is yes. I made Molasses Spice cookies the other day, and without flat out saying it, John hinted they were off. Story of my life when it comes to food escapades. What can I do but continue trying.

I was on poopie patrol again this week. Poor Marty. He had a tough couple of days with his bowels. This morning was the first time since Monday that he pinched out a semi-solid loaf. Oh come on, don’t get squeamish on me. Everyone shits. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I’m talking about something totally disgusting, like a Cleveland steamer or whatever they’re called… we won’t even go there.

So back to Martin. Obviously, he must have ingested something bad. Actually, I think I consumed the same stuff he did. Meanwhile, Remy and John got off scott-free… lucky bastards. So weird though, because aren’t foods supposed to be less prone to rotting under these freezing cold temps? Plus, I didn’t even consume meat. What the hell? I guess my stomach is still a bit sensitive from the food poisoning two weekends ago.

Marty’s been a good sport though. Despite his discomfort, he works hard to maintain status quo. He still loiters around the dinner table like an overstarved animal. He still jockeys with Bembo for prime positioning on the futon (right in front of the heater). And he’s still a big wuss who allows Remy to harass and abuse him. I watched Remy for clues, thinking maybe Martin had communicated something to her, and she would at least show some empathy or try to help him out. Nope. She continued to fight him for every available scrap, and she showed no compassion or leniency when chasing after him outside and when nipping him under the front legs. Didn’t Marts tell her he was feeling sick? Didn’t he tell her to fuck off? I’m definitely turning into a dog nut. See how much time I spend observing and monitoring them? And they still sleep most of the day! This morning, I was wondering: Do dogs from different areas of the world communicate using different “dog languages.” Someone I know suggested there are cultural differences in dogs. She insisted that every dog raised in the US LOVES peanut butter. However, every dog she’s encountered in China shows very little interest in PB. Weird, huh? Yeah, I’m not sure about that either, but it’s something to think about (when you have no life)…

The ladies at the salon always comment that I have the biggest hands… Funny thing, my hands never gained much attention when I was living in the States. I remember in high school, I so envied my friend Tricia. She could palm a basketball (albeit a ladies’ ball) Michael Jordan style. Was so cool. Hmm, well I guess in biology, my partner did seem impressed by my steadiness in dissection. Back then, I had big plans for my hands: they were destined to be surgeon hands. At least that was the original plan. Sigh. Ah well, things change, what can you do.

I suppose now my hands are useful for assembling household furniture and repairing various things around the apartment. Speaking of which, I have this crazy love affair with superglue. That shit is da bomb, and frankly, I can’t stop buying it. I’ve used it to repair all kinds of things, from re-patching carpet to repairing a decorative teapot to constructing a makeshift medicine cabinet out of cardboard. Hehe, ok so the medicine cabinet didn’t go over well with John… Anyway, back to the hands… so yeah, the salon ladies lined up to match their Lilliputian palms against mine. I was like my own little freakshow booth. My fingers were about a joint longer. An Amazon, I tell you! ROAR! Well, I guess being an anomaly has its perks. They insisted my hands would look great with a manicure. Ah, the sales pitch right? Well, since I had already clipped my nails at home, all they had to do was file and color so they gave me the bargain price of 30 rmb ($3.6 USD). And boy was this a steal: I got the base coat, handpainted flowers on each finger (I actually didn’t want so many frills, but they were quite adamant that I not fuck this up with my non-existent fashion sense), plus the top coat. Not too shabby. So, here you go: a shot of the monster hand, or finger rather. I apologize in advance: John, the self-proclaimed, award-winning photographer, was apparently having an off day, i.e. blurry pictures.

It’s official: today marks the two-year anniversary of our China adventure. How did we celebrate? John and I slept in (only to awake to the sounds of jackhammering, again, in the apartment above) and then made mediocre black bean burritos for lunch. Boy, do I miss Chipotle. I suppose it’s a good thing, they haven’t made it to Shanghai yet. As the Dairy Queen peeps will tell you, we have no self-control when it comes to our favorite foods.

From the indoors staring out, today appears beautiful. Clear skies, bright sun. But don’t be fooled: it’s frickin’ FUREEZING outside. It’s early in the afternoon and I have a load of errands to run. But they’ll probably get pushed to another day. I’ve been skipping out on the gym the last few days also. Not good. The Shanghai winter is just too paralyzing. Plus, I had a terrible rest last night. Watched a Chinese gangster movie starring my sweetheart, Andy Lau. He rocks. Of course, the acting was all in Cantonese, so it’s not like my assessment means anything… Anyway, after the movie, I couldn’t sleep. And no, it wasn’t because I was drooling over Mr. Lau’s hotness; my thoughts were much more morbid than that, unfortunately. I just kept thinking about how complicated gangster life must be. Desperation and hopelessness drive one to join the “family.” Then, the family starts making demands to test loyalty and sense of duty. Throw in mind games, strategies, and too much damn violence… I’m telling you: the world’s going to shit and no one has the solution.

Having lived in Shanghai for two years, I totally get it when people complain about “the way things are” here. As you already now, I gripe plenty on this blog.

Still, I couldn’t help but get pissed off by Paul McCartney’s comments last week regarding dogs and cats being slaughtered (in China) for fur. Before I divulge, let me clarify. As an activist, I understand one has to pick and choose personal battles. The world’s a complicated place, yet that should never stop someone from acting for change. So, Sir Paul’s decision to boycott Chinese goods is his decision and his right. I respect his belief that individual actions can bring about positive change. What really ticked me off, however, was his choice of words criticizing China. “This is barbaric. Horrific. It’s like something out of the Dark Ages. And they seem to get a kick out of it. They’re just sick, sick people.” Forgive my sensitivity, but by “they,” is he referring to the animal abusers captured on film, or is he making a blanket statement on the Chinese? He goes on to warn, “If they want to consider themselves a civilized nation… they’re going to have to stop this.” Who the hell is he, the heathen nations police? And is it me, or does his statement paint China as the black sleep in need of serious reform from its angelic global fellows? There’s no denying the brutal treatment of these animals is inhumane and disturbing and shocking. But, does McCartney think the process by which humans consume beef, pork, chicken, or dairy is eco- and animal-friendly? Not only that, who the hell is buying the fur? And puhleez. His government is allied with the current asinine (Bush) administration in this fucked up Iraq war and occupation, supposedly in a fight against the Axes of Evil. Is war civilized? Is the use of chemical weapons like white phosphorus humane? Don’t act like YOUR shit don’t stink!

By Friday night, things were looking good. Bedroom was all set up. It was the weekend, so John and I figured we’d try a night on the town. We hit KABB, an American bar and bistro in the trendy XinTianDi (I had a BOGO coupon!). John likes their burgers and burritos, but the problem with KABB is that despite offering American fare, nothing on their menu ever appeals to me. Even the mac and cheese sounds odd– onions in mac and cheese? Ah well, who messes up mac and cheese? Little did I know, eating just a half serving of that slop would plunge me into the throws of hell. After the meal, my tummy started gurgling. We headed straight home. Saturday, tummy was messed up all day. We went around town on Furby running errands. The sun was out, and it was a good day to be outside. By evening though, I started feeling a chill. From then on, I was a goner– bedridden the next two days, except for trips to the bathroom. I had a really high fever and couldn’t eat anything. It’s Tuesday and I’m feeling much better today. Thankfully, my illness wasn’t avian flu! I would like to give special thanks to John, my dear, dedicated caretaker. He takes care of me even when I make the whole room smell like an old person.

Someone, on Thanksgiving day, decided he wanted to get new bedroom furniture on his day off. We’ve had this super el-cheapo closet since the day we moved in. And about ten days later, the drawers collapsed. Basically, the particle board crumpled around the fittings. I now pull the drawers out with pink plastic string gift-wrapped around each unit. Ugly as hell, but useful. Well every now in then, when he sees my contraption in action, John gets pissed off. So Thursday, he decided it was time for new drawers. Yay. Headed to Ikea and bought a dresser and a highboy. Now, Ikea is all about DIY furniture, so when the salesperson said it would cost 4% of the total bill to assemble this shit in my apartment, I sort of huffed in disbelief. 100 RMB (12 USD) for assembly? Hah, I’ll do it myself! How hard can it be? See what China does to you? You begin to value 100 RMB like it’s 100 USD. It totally warps your concept of what things are worth. So we get the heavy-ass shipment home, unpack all the pieces, and the entire dining/living room is cluttered with wooden planks, cardboard, wooden pegs, hundreds of screws. Sigh. What have I done? Plus, John’s really bad with directions: in other words, he refuses to read them! If he were to assemble the furniture, the drawers would surely be upside down! He still helped though. I played surgeon, and he played assistant. Screwdriver! Check. Wooden pegs! Check. He handed me tools, held up parts, hammered some pieces. We started before the buffet and I finished afterwards. With OCD, everything is an urgent matter. Oh well, was a good way to work off some of that meal!


Speaking of the feast, the Hilton’s turkey day buffet was grand. I ate my happy little heart out. My only regret is that I didn’t save enough room for dessert. Kinda OD’d on the turkey and cranberry sauce and then had no choice but to let the chocolate crepes, raspberry black forest cake, chocolate lollipops, and several slices of spiced pumpkin pie slide by untouched. Lucky for John, he employed the correct strategy. Skimp on the main foods and binge at the dessert table. He put away so many chocolate crepes, man, I started feeling ill just watching him scarf it all down. That night my tummy was so full, I was writhing in pain. I’d never felt so much pain from overeating since that time in Raleigh when John dared me to finish his a tray of homemade bread pudding. When John dares me, I immediately go insane. So, I shoved in FIVE bread puddings. Ingesting them was the easy part, but ten minutes later, I probably had a pound of bread expanded in my belly. I ended up rolling around moaning and groaning all night. We seriously considered going to the hospital. Yeah, it was an asinine thing to do. But you see, that’s my fix. No smokes, no drugs, little to zip alcohol. On occasion, I just indulge to the point of food coma.

For someone without a full-time job, I certainly keep my Outlook calendar packed. My god. So, last Saturday was the Hu & Hu event slash book swap. Was a major disappointment. Part of the problem was I set my expectations too high. I get burned every time that way. Saturday morning, I got up super early and headed way out west to the boondocks to set up my AAF table at essentially what was this huge antique warehouse (in other words, the place was FREEZING cold). Took craploads of animal paraphernalia– t-shirts, scarves, holiday cards, postcards, stuffed animals, keychains, plus tons of brochures. How many items did I sell? Three. Yup, for 5 frickin’ hours! Total money raised? 300 RMB. See what I mean? Totally depressing. Clearly, I lack the skills and charm of a salesperson.

Meanwhile, turnout was HUGE. Conceptually, the holiday bazaar was a promising idea. I appreciated that charities were given free tables at a high-throughput event. Unfortunately though, the shoppers were no games. They were on a serious mission to buy shit. Shit for themselves and shit for gifts. No time to hear about poor, abused moon bears and domestic animals. Sure, there were some pretty Chinese silk purses, cute teddy bears, yummy-smelling candles… very nice retail items indeed, but come on: this is China. Who pays 200 RMB for a silk bag? 50 RMB is already above market value! Ah well, who can dictate where people choose to drop their dough. Needless to say, I headed home with a trunkful of AAF goods. And in many ways, I doubt I’ll have better luck offloading the stuff elsewhere– after all, like I said, this is China. Who’s gonna buy an AAF shirt or stuffed animal for 100 RMB? It’s just not a realistic expectation. I’ll likely have better luck convincing people to donate to a good cause and just not get anything back other than good karma.

The trials of my nonprofit world continue. Mind you, all my classes were canceled this week. Still, I’m exhausted. Monday, I headed to the office for a LifeLine staff meeting. Got all caught up on our happenings. Donated computers work most of the time. Sometimes, we get a dangerous message of doom and gloom: no operating system found! Ah well, restart the PC with your fingers crossed, back up files, and carry on! Also, our fundraising event (a fun city-wide scavenger hunt called Quest) slated for Saturday was canceled due to lack of interest. Not enough tickets sold. Take that off the damn homepage! Tuesday, picked up some organization brochures and holiday calendars to distribute and sell for Second Chance Animal Aid. Prepped for a class that would later get canceled (typical short- to zippo- notice). Wednesday, got my ass up early to set up yet another table for AAF. This time in SOGO (aka Jiu3 Guan1), the swanky, high-end mall next to Jing An Temple. I’ve actually never been above basement level (where there’s a nice supermarket). The stores are too high brow for a low-life like me. But at least now I have the transport of AAF goods down. John came up with the brilliant idea of stuffing everything into a little rolly suitcase. I did that this morning, and it was so much better than lugging five million plastic bags around. Given the high sales today (one scarf to Susie, who volunteered with me), I’m thinking I can empty out the suitcase and just cram it full of brochures. Screw selling items, man. No one’s buying anything. By the way, any readers out there want to buy? I know I’ve made the goods sound soooo enticing!! Ok, excuse the sarcasm and bad attitude. Actually, I like the shirts and holiday cards. I’m just not convinced that’s how I would want to support AAF and its programs. I prefer the “less is more” philosophy (excluding computers/tech gadgets, of course), which reminds me: check out the Center for the New American Dream. Some interesting things to consider, especially during the holiday season. But I digress: back to the tabling today. Although the event was nicely organized, turnout was low– in part because it was a weekday and also because SOGO is a pricey mall that just doesn’t get much traffic. I’m going back tomorrow for another good beating. Then, I’m gearing up full force for some massive sales/fundraising action on Saturday and Sunday. Hopefully, there will be bigger crowds then.

Regardless, I’ll be in high spirits following my monstrous Thanksgiving bingefest. I know, all this talk about minimalism and low-key lifestyle, blah, blah. Well sorry, I LOVE Thanksgiving food. When I strayed from vegetarianism, poultry was the first thing to give. Specifically because I had to have turkey. In China, people don’t eat turkey– they consider the bird too big and the meat too dry. So it’s only available when Thanksgiving rolls around. That’s when I have to go all out. And I’m not just talking a plate of Turkey and cranberry sauce. When I say “all out,” I mean a serious big-hotel holiday spread with the 25-lb bird, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, and every possible kind of pie ever known to humankind. Yesiree, you heard right: Thanksgiving ain’t no meal for the weight-conscious. It’s a full-on attack. My mouth has been watering for weeks now in anticipation of turkey-day. And finally, tomorrow is the day. Thank goodness class is canceled. John’s gonna have to plop me into a wheelbarrel and roll me home. Can’t wait to ride out the food coma stretched out on my space-foam mattress topper with the little space heater churning away! Man, life is grand!

John and I are on a new mission. The goal is to get new glamour shots taken this April for our third wedding anniversary. We got our first ones done in September 2003, when we traveled to Taiwan a few months after our wedding. I went through the whole thing kicking and screaming (it was my mother’s idea), but of course in the end, we were glad we did them. In fact, the pictures turned out better than our actual wedding photos, and the cost was reasonable. As with most services, the cost is super cheap in Shanghai so why not go for the repeat? This time, we’re aiming for a different look, namely different hairstyles (both of us short) and new and improved physiques (at least that’s the plan). So we’ve started the preparations now.

One component involves going to the gym. No matter how you dice it, I hate cardio. Weights are tolerable, but running sucks. I don’t know how I ever ran track in high school. Running outside gives me serious shin splints (thanks to track). Indoors, I just find it plain boring. As part of a larger activity (for example, basketball), running makes a little more sense. Nonetheless, I can pull some other excuse out of my ass for not playing b-ball in Shanghai.

Weights are easy enough, but my arms have this strange tendency to bulk even when I do low weights and high reps. In high school, my friend Jill always called me crab arms or crab lady. At least my other friends tried to be somewhat flattering: they nicknamed me Hercules. Either way, no slender Jennifer Garner arms for me. I probably just have to ask a trainer or something. Eh, too much work. I’ll continue with my self-styled workout and hope for the best.

So the gym is a disturbing experience. I can’t recall if I wrote about this before… Now before I continue, let me first put this out there: I’m an American prude. Yes, I’m feminist and I fully agree that people should embrace their sexuality. Still, I grew up in a conservative household. To give you a sense of how big of a ninny I used to be, imagine this: I didn’t wear v-necks until college. Why? Because I felt the collar was too revealing. Yes. That was me then. Of course, college was a real eye-opener. That’s where the metamorphasis happened. I emerged, well at least by Duke standards, a liberal. And today, I’m way father left of that. In spite of all this progress, I still have some hangups. Sorry, but when surrounded by a bunch of buck-naked bodies in the locker room, I get uncomfortable. It’s not like I feel threatened or that I’m homophobic: I just think the nudity is gratuitous. I dunno. I’m still trying to pinpoint why their nakedness freaks me out. Needless to say, I’m probably the only one in there who undresses and dresses in the shower stall. Everyone else strips at the locker before heading in.

So this morning, I had an incident. There I was undressing, trying to hurry as much as possible (John says I take too long), when suddenly, my shower curtain was pulled back. Rather than yanking the curtain back immediately, the lady just stood there apologizing profusely. As if eye contact were necessary! I played it cool (at least I thought I did), but inside, I was thinking, “yeah, ok ok. Can you just turn around and leave?!” Then later, as I was blow drying my hair, I saw this lady in the buff lounging on a fold-up lawn chair eating an apple. Huh?? Am I the only one who finds this bizarre? Yeah, I know. I’m uptight. I’m working on it, but still!!!

Hey all, a quick announcement (as posted on EnjoyShanghai.com):

Hu & Hu’s Annual Charity Christmas Bazaar

For those of you who don’t know, this is one of Shanghai’s greatest annual community gatherings, incorporating OVER 50 VENDORS with quality hand-crafted gifts, jewelry, knitwear, home decór artwork, and more. PLUS about 10 worthy charities like Shanghai Sunrise, Lifeline, and others. There is also a great book swap where you can donate books you no longer need, and buy new ones for just 10 RMB each.

There will be food from Moon River Diner, Bastiaan Bakery, Dragon Bar and Cafee Molinari

And of course a big raffle where you can win really nice prizes from some of the vendors in attendance.

When: November 19,10:00-17:00
Where: Hu & Hu Antiques
1685 WuZhong Lu (near Hong Jing Lu)
Tel: 3431-1212

I’ll be there tabling for the Animals Asia Foundation. Anyone wanna help? Please email me if you’re interested. We’ll be handing out brochures about our popular programs (including the China Moon Bear Rescue, Dr. Dog, and Professor Paws) and also be selling t-shirts, scarves, and holiday cards.

If neither antiques nor charities interest you, at least swing by for the book swap. 10 RMB/book. Can’t beat that!