"Did you see any turds today?"
...is what David Sedaris asked me directly, square in the eyes tonight. And thus began my six-minute conversation with David Sedaris, post book tour talk at Mako Live House.
I have not been as forthcoming with my Beijing scatological humor as David Sedaris is and was this evening. His reference is to the feces one can find in the streets of Bejiing, in the un-flushed toilets of public restrooms, in the stumbled upon back alleys, or popular paths frequented by walking dogs.
But isn't it the kind of thing you find only when you are looking for it?
I didn't have the heart to tell him about babies and their split pants. Public potty training at its finest.
It wasn't all toilet humor. Our conversation and his book reading. He obviously entertained us with stories from his latest satirical compilation Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk. When asked by an audience member, he said that he is the "Motherless Bear," and the "Vigilant Rabbit" is based on a power hungry, aggressive, elderly TSA woman he came across during one of his many airport frisks. His taxi travels in Beijing reminded him of a piece from Engulfed in Flames that had the entire audience in a fit of laughter. He shared his newly selected Chinese name which he chose from the menu of a local restaurant: Water Seepage Bullfrog (I am pretty certain I know which restaurant he patronized. I've been there a few times, and you don't forget that kind of menu item). Overall, I hope he enjoyed his first trip to Beijing. He told us that he thought Beijing was a "wild, just wild" place to be these days.
When I had my eight minutes to chat with him as he was signing my book...did I say six minutes earlier? Well now I am certain it was more like eight minutes -- the conversation was going so well, we had so much in common. For example, we spoke about learning another language (he puts down his French like all good bi/tri/multi-lingual speakers). I told him how Beijing seeps into you; the language, the food, the unwonted breach of norms that become mundane over time. Soon enough, you don't see any turds. Until you step in them, that is. OK. And maybe I didn't actually use the word "unwonted" in his company. Ok. But he's funny, I'm funny (right?). Perhaps we don't have all that much in common.
Here's my big takeaway from my night with David Sedaris (we're not exactly on a first name basis, so I'll stick with his full English name instead of Water Seepage...): Now is the time to be in Beijing, just to see what's going to happen. Stick around. Ten years from now, it is very likely that this may be a very different place, and I just may be a (very) different person. Except for that part about me being funny. That won't change.
30 January 2011
28 January 2011
the science and art of healing
If your day is turning out to be anything like mine, then I am certain you have been anxiously awaiting for the results of yesterday's science experiment.
Just let me grab another tissue, first.
OK. So, I'm not cured. But I did sleep a lot better (after my second piping hot mug of the elixir known as Ganmao Qingre Keli). Almost immediately after finishing yesterday's post and the first round of meds, my head cleared up, which made breathing, that daily task that is taken for granted all too often, much much easier. I don't want to jinx myself by being too optimistic, but this stuff seems to be working my cold up and out of the confines of my body.
I'll give it another day, another round of watching TV shows on DVD (we found that forgotten but beautifully costumed series Pushing Daisies), another book reading, and another few mugs of the wonder drug before I weigh in with my final analysis.
I promise much more exciting news on the horizon. Chun Jie is really right around the corner. I have almost two weeks off from classes because of the holiday - adventures abound! We are seeing David Sedaris tomorrow evening at Mako Live House; so now I must save up the remainder of my energy to think of something witty to say to him as he's autographing my copy of his latest book (Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk)! I have ruled out Chinese phrases I have learned such as, "what a good dog you have!" I say this as I am petting the neighbor's overly-active golden retriever and it is stealing my mitten off of my hand in one slobbery fell swoop. Or, for instance, when I introduce Z to my Mandarin teachers, saying, "this is my husband, he is a student of history" which actually usually comes out of my mouth as, "this is my student, he is a Chinese husband history." Or, my favorite, "today is very cold, you should wear a coat!" I never get that one wrong.
Just let me grab another tissue, first.
OK. So, I'm not cured. But I did sleep a lot better (after my second piping hot mug of the elixir known as Ganmao Qingre Keli). Almost immediately after finishing yesterday's post and the first round of meds, my head cleared up, which made breathing, that daily task that is taken for granted all too often, much much easier. I don't want to jinx myself by being too optimistic, but this stuff seems to be working my cold up and out of the confines of my body.
I'll give it another day, another round of watching TV shows on DVD (we found that forgotten but beautifully costumed series Pushing Daisies), another book reading, and another few mugs of the wonder drug before I weigh in with my final analysis.
I promise much more exciting news on the horizon. Chun Jie is really right around the corner. I have almost two weeks off from classes because of the holiday - adventures abound! We are seeing David Sedaris tomorrow evening at Mako Live House; so now I must save up the remainder of my energy to think of something witty to say to him as he's autographing my copy of his latest book (Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk)! I have ruled out Chinese phrases I have learned such as, "what a good dog you have!" I say this as I am petting the neighbor's overly-active golden retriever and it is stealing my mitten off of my hand in one slobbery fell swoop. Or, for instance, when I introduce Z to my Mandarin teachers, saying, "this is my husband, he is a student of history" which actually usually comes out of my mouth as, "this is my student, he is a Chinese husband history." Or, my favorite, "today is very cold, you should wear a coat!" I never get that one wrong.
27 January 2011
for whatever ails you
There is a definite wait and see element to this posting as I am faced with choosing between two options today.
Option (A): Western medicine
Option (B): Chinese medicine
Well, actually, I already chose option (A) in the very, very early morning when I popped two pills of the Western medicine variety. Although, they did nothing to cure me of my cold symptoms; I was left wide awake, restless and still stuffed from the neck up. Tylenol Cold & Sinus PM - what a ruse!
Now I sit here, having returned from class, with option (B) as provided by Z. For my sake he went on a little field trip to the Chinese pharmacy and came home with this:
So, here we are. My mug and I in a standoff position -- do you see how it's staring at me?! This mug, it's contents now piping hot, full of...full of what, exactly? Tea? No. Dried herbs? Perhaps? But before I added the hot water, the medicine in question looked more like spoonfuls of Ovaltine. With boiled water added, it has become a totally unrecognizable mixture of slushy, brown, hot liquid medicine.
Let's take a sip, shall we?
It's bitter, kind of like an old leather shoe that has been boiled down.
Ahh, but there is a hint (just a hint) of sweetness at the end that lingers at the back of my throat. Is that licorice? It's not altogether unpleasant, but it's not something I would choose to cozy up with while reading a book. Twice a day at that.
Press on, press on! Should the liquid medicine cool down a bit, it will make it all the more difficult to swallow. Doesn't room temperature brown, slushy liquid medicine seem even more awful to digest than when it is piping hot? At least I think so.
So, now, you see...we wait and see.
Option (A): Western medicine
Option (B): Chinese medicine
Well, actually, I already chose option (A) in the very, very early morning when I popped two pills of the Western medicine variety. Although, they did nothing to cure me of my cold symptoms; I was left wide awake, restless and still stuffed from the neck up. Tylenol Cold & Sinus PM - what a ruse!
Now I sit here, having returned from class, with option (B) as provided by Z. For my sake he went on a little field trip to the Chinese pharmacy and came home with this:
So, here we are. My mug and I in a standoff position -- do you see how it's staring at me?! This mug, it's contents now piping hot, full of...full of what, exactly? Tea? No. Dried herbs? Perhaps? But before I added the hot water, the medicine in question looked more like spoonfuls of Ovaltine. With boiled water added, it has become a totally unrecognizable mixture of slushy, brown, hot liquid medicine.
Let's take a sip, shall we?
It's bitter, kind of like an old leather shoe that has been boiled down.
Ahh, but there is a hint (just a hint) of sweetness at the end that lingers at the back of my throat. Is that licorice? It's not altogether unpleasant, but it's not something I would choose to cozy up with while reading a book. Twice a day at that.
Press on, press on! Should the liquid medicine cool down a bit, it will make it all the more difficult to swallow. Doesn't room temperature brown, slushy liquid medicine seem even more awful to digest than when it is piping hot? At least I think so.
So, now, you see...we wait and see.
22 January 2011
2 Fats, 2 Skinnies
My only regret today is that I didn't have my camera with me, and that I didn't order the onion rings.
We didn't go out seeking what we found. We stumbled upon it on our way to satisfy my latest craving - gong bao ji ding (US version is kung pao chicken with peanuts). Instead, casually riding along, and allowing ourselves to get a little lost on this most pleasant, balmy 30 degree, and sunshiny afternoon, we discovered it on the horizon, and it was calling to us...at least I now have my Fat Club Membership Card to prove we were there.
We didn't go out seeking what we found. We stumbled upon it on our way to satisfy my latest craving - gong bao ji ding (US version is kung pao chicken with peanuts). Instead, casually riding along, and allowing ourselves to get a little lost on this most pleasant, balmy 30 degree, and sunshiny afternoon, we discovered it on the horizon, and it was calling to us...at least I now have my Fat Club Membership Card to prove we were there.
You try saying "no" to a stumbled-upon Fatburger while living in a foreign country. Call it divine intervention if you must, I prefer to call it a happy coincidence. Girl meets appetite meets cheeseburger --all for less than ten American dollars in Beijing. Did you know that when you place an order at a Fatburger the entire staff repeats your order out loud, in unison, to all the restaurant patrons? From this point forward, collectively, Z and I would like to be referred to as "Two Fats, Two Skinnies."
There is a rub though. Always something in Beijing to make you question your daily habits and new discoveries. Besides the obvious drawbacks to a life full of eating cheeseburgers every day, this particular Fatburger is located on the "Diplomatic Residence Compound" grounds. That's capital D, capital R, capital C. Do you know what the DRC feels like?
It feels like you have been plopped onto the grounds of a Disney theme park at night when everyone has gone to bed to dream their Mickey Mouse dreams. It's eerily out of sorts in Beijing; it's quiet, it's cut-off, it's as suburban as Beijing gets. But, I'm sure, with it's Western "isms" it's lovely place to live, though.
Weren't we, after all, allowing ourselves to indulge in the cheeseburger, French-fry, milkshake fantasy just steps from our beloved US Embassy, and with so many other Americans and Westerners? Forget Sanlitun, the High Street of shopping, clubs and bars. Fatburger Beijing is the place to be for the who's who of the West. There was the Englishman with his ascot, jaunty vest and tweed blazer, enjoying a distinguished cup of espresso he imported from the cafe next door. The French family and their three children running amok, pumping squirt after squirt of free flowing Heinz ketchup into tiny paper cups. The pimple faced American teenagers in from the cold, with only their single layer hoodies to protect them, skate boards in hand, donning their best Justin Bieber hair styles. The American IT businessmen in the corner booths, relaxing in their Saturday casual wear, allowing their waist bans to expand, tapping away at their laptops, hosting informal informational interviews with the latest crop of Beijing business newbies.
Where else in Beijing can you go to also satisfy your craving for blaring 80's pop music, while watching CNN, HBO and ESPN simultaneously on several HD flatscreens? Is this America transplanted? Is this all we need to feel at home, wrapped up inside a greasy, tasty, kitschy fast-food joint?
I won't make anymore sweeping statements today, except to say that we'll be back, no doubt.
20 January 2011
Under Adjusting
As of this moment, this yellow sign stands in our lobby:
It states (not so?) clearly that this elevator is temporarily out of use. Unavailable. Do not use. Scram.
Sometimes I wish I could carry this same yellow sign around me.
I'm under adjusting today, people!
Not functioning! Move on!
Can't you tell by the posture? Arms crossed? Cold, reflective, inattentive stare?
Do not attempt to use.
Out of order.
Do not pass go.
Take the stairs if you have to.
But, do not rely on me, today!
Do not.
So, why the yellow sign and the sad face?
But first (because let's face it, there is always a But, first with me), let me point out what I am not Under Adjusting about, exactly. There is no great re-adjustment period to life back in Beijing. Everything is still as shocking, complicated, wonderful, frustrating and new as it was before we went home for the holidays. There is, thank goodness, no major shock to my system as we return to Chinese cuisine. My body isn't making a mockery of the food and reliving those first few months of routine college dining-hall gastronomical effects. I am still annoyed as hell with the neighbors and their raucous nighttime, now turned to (also) daytime, trysts. The dog down the hallway is as frantic as ever; he barks, barks, barks from sunrise to whenever the hell his owner's return home. So, no change there. See. I can continue to be as curmudgeonly as ever if I choose.
Yes, yes. So, why the yellow sign and the sad face?
Because my schedule changed. MY schedule. My routine. My day-to-day. My Beijing Me.
I know, you're thinking, "You moved to a foreign country site unseen. Get a hold of yourself. Life is change. blah. blah. A little change is good." Yeah, I get it.
Yes, but. BUT. I was sailing along, happily attending my private lessons, twice a week, with a teacher I like. I was fitting in actual physical exercise twice a week, too. I had developed the right timing for creating my lesson plans for the Dandelion School students. Then, out of the blue from my school: "An Mei (that's my Chinese name), An Mei, do you think you could take class with a different teacher, on different days, with two other students?" This of course, asked to me in Chinese.
My eloquent response:
"Huh? Whah? Why? Wei shenme?" in a sort of Chinglish.
This was like the same shock I felt when I completed first grade and I found out in order to get into second grade I would have all new teachers, and I was losing nap time. OK. Maybe I wasn't that naive. Change is par for the course when you are the daughter of a Navy man and a sophisticated lady. Sure, you can move me from the South, to the East Coast, to the Midwest, back to the East Coast, down and around, across the pond and back again. But give me a little warning. Let me make the decision myself or at least be a part of the process. That is all I ask.
I don't fear big changes; I just dislike personal disruptions of the Chinese language variety. All those nasty feelings of incompetency rise up with change and the what if's come taunting. What if I can't understand the teacher? What if the other students are too cool for school (you know I hate that kind of attitude)? What if they can't understand me? What if I say too many things incorrectly? What if I fart in class? (Really just wanted to see if you are still paying attention).
So now what do I do? I find a new Beijing routine. I figure out when I can take my yoga classes on different days, with different instructors. I stop my whining and find a real problem to solve.
I'll just be carrying this big yellow sign around my waist for the time being.
___________________________________________________________________________
Side story about how I finally snapped a picture of the signage:
This is one of a handful of moments that the yellow signs have been displayed in our lobby, and each time, they exist much to my amusement. I do not bemoan the loss of a working elevator because there is something satisfying about seeing the phrase "Under Adjusting."
We returned home from yet another trip to the grocery store where we purchased more than our little bicycle baskets could handle, I ran into the apartment, flung down the bags, grabbed the camera and headed right back to the one working elevator to reach the lobby. Other attempts to snap proof of the signage have ended in failure; those pesky maintenance men seem to fix the elevator's issue before I can get back down to the lobby to snap away paparazzi style. So, there I was minding my own business, hoping for a straight shot down when the elevator stopped at floor 12, and eight people got on. Then we stopped at floor 8 and two more people got on. At floor 5, two people got off and three people got on. At floor 1 everybody got out, and one woman waiting for the elevator to arrive, for some reason, did not get on. So there she was, with her grocery bags in hand, watching me take pictures of the "under adjusting" elevator signs in the lobby. Why, comes to mind. Why was she watching me? Why didn't she get on the elevator? Why wasn't she asking me, "Why are you so interested in these yellow signs you silly little white girl?"???
Nonetheless. Picture. Snapped. Check.
 |
It states (not so?) clearly that this elevator is temporarily out of use. Unavailable. Do not use. Scram.
Sometimes I wish I could carry this same yellow sign around me.
I'm under adjusting today, people!
Not functioning! Move on!
Can't you tell by the posture? Arms crossed? Cold, reflective, inattentive stare?
Do not attempt to use.
Out of order.
Do not pass go.
Take the stairs if you have to.
But, do not rely on me, today!
Do not.
So, why the yellow sign and the sad face?
But first (because let's face it, there is always a But, first with me), let me point out what I am not Under Adjusting about, exactly. There is no great re-adjustment period to life back in Beijing. Everything is still as shocking, complicated, wonderful, frustrating and new as it was before we went home for the holidays. There is, thank goodness, no major shock to my system as we return to Chinese cuisine. My body isn't making a mockery of the food and reliving those first few months of routine college dining-hall gastronomical effects. I am still annoyed as hell with the neighbors and their raucous nighttime, now turned to (also) daytime, trysts. The dog down the hallway is as frantic as ever; he barks, barks, barks from sunrise to whenever the hell his owner's return home. So, no change there. See. I can continue to be as curmudgeonly as ever if I choose.
Yes, yes. So, why the yellow sign and the sad face?
Because my schedule changed. MY schedule. My routine. My day-to-day. My Beijing Me.
I know, you're thinking, "You moved to a foreign country site unseen. Get a hold of yourself. Life is change. blah. blah. A little change is good." Yeah, I get it.
Yes, but. BUT. I was sailing along, happily attending my private lessons, twice a week, with a teacher I like. I was fitting in actual physical exercise twice a week, too. I had developed the right timing for creating my lesson plans for the Dandelion School students. Then, out of the blue from my school: "An Mei (that's my Chinese name), An Mei, do you think you could take class with a different teacher, on different days, with two other students?" This of course, asked to me in Chinese.
My eloquent response:
"Huh? Whah? Why? Wei shenme?" in a sort of Chinglish.
This was like the same shock I felt when I completed first grade and I found out in order to get into second grade I would have all new teachers, and I was losing nap time. OK. Maybe I wasn't that naive. Change is par for the course when you are the daughter of a Navy man and a sophisticated lady. Sure, you can move me from the South, to the East Coast, to the Midwest, back to the East Coast, down and around, across the pond and back again. But give me a little warning. Let me make the decision myself or at least be a part of the process. That is all I ask.
I don't fear big changes; I just dislike personal disruptions of the Chinese language variety. All those nasty feelings of incompetency rise up with change and the what if's come taunting. What if I can't understand the teacher? What if the other students are too cool for school (you know I hate that kind of attitude)? What if they can't understand me? What if I say too many things incorrectly? What if I fart in class? (Really just wanted to see if you are still paying attention).
So now what do I do? I find a new Beijing routine. I figure out when I can take my yoga classes on different days, with different instructors. I stop my whining and find a real problem to solve.
I'll just be carrying this big yellow sign around my waist for the time being.
___________________________________________________________________________
Side story about how I finally snapped a picture of the signage:
This is one of a handful of moments that the yellow signs have been displayed in our lobby, and each time, they exist much to my amusement. I do not bemoan the loss of a working elevator because there is something satisfying about seeing the phrase "Under Adjusting."
We returned home from yet another trip to the grocery store where we purchased more than our little bicycle baskets could handle, I ran into the apartment, flung down the bags, grabbed the camera and headed right back to the one working elevator to reach the lobby. Other attempts to snap proof of the signage have ended in failure; those pesky maintenance men seem to fix the elevator's issue before I can get back down to the lobby to snap away paparazzi style. So, there I was minding my own business, hoping for a straight shot down when the elevator stopped at floor 12, and eight people got on. Then we stopped at floor 8 and two more people got on. At floor 5, two people got off and three people got on. At floor 1 everybody got out, and one woman waiting for the elevator to arrive, for some reason, did not get on. So there she was, with her grocery bags in hand, watching me take pictures of the "under adjusting" elevator signs in the lobby. Why, comes to mind. Why was she watching me? Why didn't she get on the elevator? Why wasn't she asking me, "Why are you so interested in these yellow signs you silly little white girl?"???
Nonetheless. Picture. Snapped. Check.
Choppin' Broccoli
I am skipping ahead on yesterday's list and going straight to numero 10. Cupcakes!
Seriously. Who doesn't like a cupcake? No wonder they've become so popular in the last decade. They are handheld, sugary sweet, bite-sized, personal (as in, get your own, I'm not sharing) little joys. And they can come in any flavor. And in any design - if you are creative enough ;)
I'm not a cake person. But I will gladly announce that I am a cupcake kind of gal.
My sister made these for us to celebrate our return to Beijing. There's nothing like a cupcake to help you swallow sadness when leaving family and friends - again. There's nothing like a cupcake that is made to look like Chinese takeout to help you look forward to the reason why you need to leave your friends and family - again.
I'm not a cake person. But I will gladly announce that I am a cupcake kind of gal.
My sister made these for us to celebrate our return to Beijing. There's nothing like a cupcake to help you swallow sadness when leaving family and friends - again. There's nothing like a cupcake that is made to look like Chinese takeout to help you look forward to the reason why you need to leave your friends and family - again.
19 January 2011
Another trusted list
Remind me to tell you more in depth about the following things:
(1) A Chinese dish I do not know the name of, but which reminds me of a meal served to me during my childhood: Glop.
(1a) How I made a hybrid Chinese meal the other day, and made (read: was forced to make) a last minute decision to serve the meal with leftover rice instead of the noodles. I know. The suspense is killing you. These kinds of dishes will henceforth be known as Chlop. Chinese Glop. Already, I've told you too much in this teaser.
(2) This is the most polluted city in which I have lived (the London skies got nothin on Beijing), but it somehow also manages to be the cleanest city.
(3) My new Mandarin class.
(4) The Lama Temple. We have been there twice, and still can not believe I haven't said a word about it! OK. I said one word about it - that we were there with the Uncles. But I didn't give it it's shining bloggable moment it deserves.
(5) Tickets are going fast my friends! All of April is practically sold out, and part of May, too. That's right. We're anticipating more visitors!
(6) David Sedaris is coming to town. Now I just need to find his new book. In English. Before next Saturday. oh, and I need to read it, too.
(7) The new toaster oven. I kid. Of course you already know about it. Do you want to hear about the chicken I made in it the other day? Still. I kid.
(8) My new self-imposed food challenge. I will pick out an item unrecognizable to me from the grocery store or outdoor market each week. I will post its picture on the blog and together, we can figure out what to do with said fruit/vegetable/mineral/meat. Perhaps door prizes will be awarded for creative or correct answers.
(9) We are going to Hong Kong at the end of February/beginning of March. I know. It's forever away. And it's so dreadfully cold these days I fear February may never show itself.
(10) Nine items seemed inadequate. I suppose a list of 10 is just as arbitrary. Oh! I got it! Wait 'til you see my sister's cupcakes. err. uh. I mean, wait 'til you see the cupcakes my sister made for our departure back to Beijing! You'll be jealous.
(1) A Chinese dish I do not know the name of, but which reminds me of a meal served to me during my childhood: Glop.
(1a) How I made a hybrid Chinese meal the other day, and made (read: was forced to make) a last minute decision to serve the meal with leftover rice instead of the noodles. I know. The suspense is killing you. These kinds of dishes will henceforth be known as Chlop. Chinese Glop. Already, I've told you too much in this teaser.
(2) This is the most polluted city in which I have lived (the London skies got nothin on Beijing), but it somehow also manages to be the cleanest city.
(3) My new Mandarin class.
(4) The Lama Temple. We have been there twice, and still can not believe I haven't said a word about it! OK. I said one word about it - that we were there with the Uncles. But I didn't give it it's shining bloggable moment it deserves.
(5) Tickets are going fast my friends! All of April is practically sold out, and part of May, too. That's right. We're anticipating more visitors!
(6) David Sedaris is coming to town. Now I just need to find his new book. In English. Before next Saturday. oh, and I need to read it, too.
(7) The new toaster oven. I kid. Of course you already know about it. Do you want to hear about the chicken I made in it the other day? Still. I kid.
(8) My new self-imposed food challenge. I will pick out an item unrecognizable to me from the grocery store or outdoor market each week. I will post its picture on the blog and together, we can figure out what to do with said fruit/vegetable/mineral/meat. Perhaps door prizes will be awarded for creative or correct answers.
(9) We are going to Hong Kong at the end of February/beginning of March. I know. It's forever away. And it's so dreadfully cold these days I fear February may never show itself.
(10) Nine items seemed inadequate. I suppose a list of 10 is just as arbitrary. Oh! I got it! Wait 'til you see my sister's cupcakes. err. uh. I mean, wait 'til you see the cupcakes my sister made for our departure back to Beijing! You'll be jealous.
16 January 2011
bunny bunny
Now that the Chinese New Year preparations are in full effect all around the city, I too, of course, want to be prepared. That means for 2011, in the year of the rabbit, it's all things bunny for this girl. So, besides the red lanterns and paper decorations I have picked up from the grocery store, this little gem of a bag had to be mine. I saw a variety of them in the window of LeSportsac in Sanlitun Village the other day; how could I walk away without my own little Chun Jie (Spring Festival/New Year) souvenir?
Have you ever seen happier bunnies preparing for Chun Jie in all your life? They have even invited a Chinese dragon to celebrate with them (see him, in the lower left hand corner?). It sums up the Chinese New Year so nicely for 2011: bunnies watching and setting off fireworks; bunnies eating candies, cakes and yummy jiaozi; bunnies with red lanterns; bunnies wearing new red clothing, fashioned with red accessories; bunnies giving out gifts of red envelopes with even dollar amounts of money for good luck and to ward away evil spirits; bunnies carrying red and gold diamond shaped paper posters to welcome prosperity, wealth, health and happiness in the New Year!
And you thought it was just a silly little purse with silly little bunnies.
15 January 2011
a meatloaf haiku - who knew?
In honor of the loaf, because it's the first real meal being cooked in the new toaster oven. What better way to celebrate?
Mom's meatloaf recipe, copied straight from my email, to suit the American cook in Beijing:
making meatloaf now
in my toaster oven, wow!
it's a meat-racle
Mom's meatloaf recipe, copied straight from my email, to suit the American cook in Beijing:
1 1/2 lb. ground beef, 1 egg, 1 pkg dried onion soup mix (or mushroom soup mix), 3 slices bread. Soak bread in water - squeeze out - Does your hand mixer work? If so, beat bread with egg and soup mix and some
s & p - beat in gr. beef. got any ketchup?? a couple of tablespoons or packets from McDonalds :-) Form into loaf and bake for about 45 minutes at 350.
Translation:
Hmmm. Pounds to grams or kilos = somewhere around 675 grams of ground beef. 2 eggs because the eggs are tiny here. 1 can of French onion soup (no packets to be found) to soak 5 slices of bread in, 5 slices of bread because the soup had all the flavor, but too much moisture. Hand mixer using the power converter worked (but, does your's flash a light when you turn it off, too?)!! Of course, I have S&P. Yes! ketchup packets from McDonald's (I knew they'd come in handy!). Two loaves formed. Fahrenheit to Celcius makes it 180 degrees, but I'll get back to you on the timing.
...I'm back with the timing. It took nearly an hour and a half. But it was well worth the wait.
Serve with gravy made from the remaining French onion soup, instant mashed potatoes sent in a care package from home (!), and an assorted wild mushroom side-dish purchased from the expat grocery store.
Nothing's more thrilling on a Saturday night.
thanks, Ma.
...I'm back with the timing. It took nearly an hour and a half. But it was well worth the wait.
Serve with gravy made from the remaining French onion soup, instant mashed potatoes sent in a care package from home (!), and an assorted wild mushroom side-dish purchased from the expat grocery store.
 |
| there's no room on this plate for a green vegetable |
Nothing's more thrilling on a Saturday night.
thanks, Ma.
13 January 2011
jet-lag, shmet-shmag
Four states, five cities, seven towns. Fourteen nights only. Sold out tour.
Then 7,000 miles back around the globe.
I can pretend we were part of a grand performance tour these last couple of weeks. I sang duets on Glee Wii. I danced The Experience a-la Michael Jackson. I performed shtick and voice over routines. I was chauffeured around, drank champagne and partied 'til four in the morning. I even wore sequins at one point during our East coast tour. I got paid in QT (that's quality time for those not in the know) with friends and family and four legged fur balls.
ahh, the life of a temporary ex-pat.
Who had time to check blogs or write posts when there was so much else going on?!
Christmas celebrations, New Years Eve, and everything in between was fabulous. We were spoiled with love and gifts and all the special foods that we missed. A big thank you for friends and family remembering us with Christmas cards that were sent to our parents' houses. Also, another big thank you for the special annual Christmas-time CD with hand-selected tunes that kept us rockin' while we were home. Up and down the NJ parkway can be a long ride without good music. Time with family and friends was all too short. Plane rides were all too long.
And now, here I am again. Home sweet Beijing in 2011. In our tricked out apartment - aka, an apartment with a brandy-new toaster oven and (AND!) an air purifier. So, now we can breath easy. (how could i resist that line?) We did a little shopping today to say the least. Something had to keep us awake when our bodies are telling us, "sleep, sleep my precious."
Despite jet-lag induced wake up calls at 3:00 AM, and the hunger pangs that follow, life in Beijing is back to normal. Which means, more specifically, that life in Beijing is back to the unexpected, roller-coaster, what does that mean, oh, I understand that, er, no I don't, but I am still happy, wait, someone from my school recognized me on the street-isn't that great? want to try that new, weird, tasty thing? kind of life.
Did I mention we got a toaster oven? And it does more than just make toast! I could make a whole chicken right now.
And an air purifier?! **
A few other new exciting happenings worth mentioning today:
(1) There is a new bus stop waiting area on our street, but no buses actually stop at that specific point. However, if I wish to stay dry, out of inclement weather, or people watch, it is nice to know I have a place to stand with strangers and a superb vantage point. Perhaps there I can discuss the weather with others and talk to neighborhood dogs.
(2) The scaffolding that surrounded one of the nightclubs on our street has finally been removed. Thank goodness! I wouldn't dare make an appearance there with that eye-sore of a front door. Girl's got to get her groove on. Now I will go straight away to change into my clubbing clothes (all black of course), and stuff a wad of money in my pockets to spend on a good night out.
(3) The Holiday Inn Express down the street from us is complete. It was under construction with practically just the foundation poured when we moved here four months ago. We toured the lobby of the hotel today, and I am mighty impressed. Migh-ty. Never in my life did I think I could be impressed with a Holiday Inn Express. There is even a very feng, very shui, garden in the hotel's backyard, modern furnishings in the lobby, and no-smoking signs that seem to be heeded thus far. Good job HI. Kudos to you.
(4) More completed construction -- we now have access to another little park area around the block. I am certain long, interesting, life-altering thoughts will be contemplated there and moments of brilliance and wit will be discovered there come warm weather.
(5) Not really that exciting, but perhaps worth mentioning. Our corner store guy did not greet us with a "Long time, no see!" or "Welcome back, where've you been?" But, I know he missed us, nonetheless.
(6) Food can be Fun and tasty! We discovered a Sushi Express restaurant today in the Ginza Mall named "I <3 Sushi" (there is literally a picture of a heart in the title). As you sit at a counter lined up in a row, individual sushi or sashimi portions roll along on a conveyor belt. You can watch the fish go by again and again before you decide which morsel to consume, or you can pick up every plate one by one if you are feeling famished. It's built in entertainment and an indecisive eater's dream or nightmare depending on how you look at it. The chef at one end keeps the plates refreshed and the variety interesting. Each plate costs the same RMB amount - six kuai. Lunch today was a whopping $7 for both of us!
(7) Spring Festival is just around the corner. In preparation, we - meaning I - am stocking up on all things red. We already have our sign on the front door (even though there is still a Christmas tree in the lobby), lanterns in the living room, and a plush red bunny in preparation of the celebration(s). After all, 2011 is the year of the hare, which I discovered only after asking Z, "Why are there rabbits everywhere?! Rabbit posters, rabbit cartoons, red rabbit plush, rabbit lanterns, rabbit coasters, rabbit hats, rabbit mugs?"
(8) Ding! Toast is done!
** for those looking, we bought ours at Wal-Mart - Yadu brand, model no. KJ130-TGS for just under 1000RMB. There's the cadillac model out there that costs 11,000 RMB, but, despite our lungs' pleas, we don't have that kind of mula to spend.
Then 7,000 miles back around the globe.
I can pretend we were part of a grand performance tour these last couple of weeks. I sang duets on Glee Wii. I danced The Experience a-la Michael Jackson. I performed shtick and voice over routines. I was chauffeured around, drank champagne and partied 'til four in the morning. I even wore sequins at one point during our East coast tour. I got paid in QT (that's quality time for those not in the know) with friends and family and four legged fur balls.
ahh, the life of a temporary ex-pat.
Who had time to check blogs or write posts when there was so much else going on?!
Christmas celebrations, New Years Eve, and everything in between was fabulous. We were spoiled with love and gifts and all the special foods that we missed. A big thank you for friends and family remembering us with Christmas cards that were sent to our parents' houses. Also, another big thank you for the special annual Christmas-time CD with hand-selected tunes that kept us rockin' while we were home. Up and down the NJ parkway can be a long ride without good music. Time with family and friends was all too short. Plane rides were all too long.
And now, here I am again. Home sweet Beijing in 2011. In our tricked out apartment - aka, an apartment with a brandy-new toaster oven and (AND!) an air purifier. So, now we can breath easy. (how could i resist that line?) We did a little shopping today to say the least. Something had to keep us awake when our bodies are telling us, "sleep, sleep my precious."
Despite jet-lag induced wake up calls at 3:00 AM, and the hunger pangs that follow, life in Beijing is back to normal. Which means, more specifically, that life in Beijing is back to the unexpected, roller-coaster, what does that mean, oh, I understand that, er, no I don't, but I am still happy, wait, someone from my school recognized me on the street-isn't that great? want to try that new, weird, tasty thing? kind of life.
Did I mention we got a toaster oven? And it does more than just make toast! I could make a whole chicken right now.
And an air purifier?! **
A few other new exciting happenings worth mentioning today:
(1) There is a new bus stop waiting area on our street, but no buses actually stop at that specific point. However, if I wish to stay dry, out of inclement weather, or people watch, it is nice to know I have a place to stand with strangers and a superb vantage point. Perhaps there I can discuss the weather with others and talk to neighborhood dogs.
(2) The scaffolding that surrounded one of the nightclubs on our street has finally been removed. Thank goodness! I wouldn't dare make an appearance there with that eye-sore of a front door. Girl's got to get her groove on. Now I will go straight away to change into my clubbing clothes (all black of course), and stuff a wad of money in my pockets to spend on a good night out.
(3) The Holiday Inn Express down the street from us is complete. It was under construction with practically just the foundation poured when we moved here four months ago. We toured the lobby of the hotel today, and I am mighty impressed. Migh-ty. Never in my life did I think I could be impressed with a Holiday Inn Express. There is even a very feng, very shui, garden in the hotel's backyard, modern furnishings in the lobby, and no-smoking signs that seem to be heeded thus far. Good job HI. Kudos to you.
(4) More completed construction -- we now have access to another little park area around the block. I am certain long, interesting, life-altering thoughts will be contemplated there and moments of brilliance and wit will be discovered there come warm weather.
(5) Not really that exciting, but perhaps worth mentioning. Our corner store guy did not greet us with a "Long time, no see!" or "Welcome back, where've you been?" But, I know he missed us, nonetheless.
(6) Food can be Fun and tasty! We discovered a Sushi Express restaurant today in the Ginza Mall named "I <3 Sushi" (there is literally a picture of a heart in the title). As you sit at a counter lined up in a row, individual sushi or sashimi portions roll along on a conveyor belt. You can watch the fish go by again and again before you decide which morsel to consume, or you can pick up every plate one by one if you are feeling famished. It's built in entertainment and an indecisive eater's dream or nightmare depending on how you look at it. The chef at one end keeps the plates refreshed and the variety interesting. Each plate costs the same RMB amount - six kuai. Lunch today was a whopping $7 for both of us!
(7) Spring Festival is just around the corner. In preparation, we - meaning I - am stocking up on all things red. We already have our sign on the front door (even though there is still a Christmas tree in the lobby), lanterns in the living room, and a plush red bunny in preparation of the celebration(s). After all, 2011 is the year of the hare, which I discovered only after asking Z, "Why are there rabbits everywhere?! Rabbit posters, rabbit cartoons, red rabbit plush, rabbit lanterns, rabbit coasters, rabbit hats, rabbit mugs?"
(8) Ding! Toast is done!
** for those looking, we bought ours at Wal-Mart - Yadu brand, model no. KJ130-TGS for just under 1000RMB. There's the cadillac model out there that costs 11,000 RMB, but, despite our lungs' pleas, we don't have that kind of mula to spend.
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