The mystery of the hidden outlet…

Isn’t it true that whenever you need to get to an outlet, all “available” electrical outlets are inaccessible? That is the story of my life, ladies and gentlemen. And I believe that it may be the story of yours as well! When you’re looking at a bare room, you may see about four electric outlets and you think, “Oh goody!” But then you move furniture into that room. Suddenly, your bed covers two, your dresser another, and you are left with one electrical outlet for use. It’s a curse!

^^^ I wish it were always that easy.

This must be some kind of homeowners prerequisite. Is there a hidden line in the contract that says, “I agree to never have any electrical outlets available for my convenient usage…ever. I agree to be forced to move my entire couch during the holiday season when I want to plug in my Christmas tree lights. I agree to stock up on surge protectors so I may overuse the one outlet in my home that is clear of chairs, tables, beds, desks, and other obstructions of the like.” ? There has to be.

^^^ “Great! The tree is plugged in! So we have to do this to unplug it…again?”

Even in China, there were NO OUTLETS IN THE BATHROOM! So whenever I wanted to blow-dry my hair, I had to do so in the bedroom, so when Princess was attempting to get some shuteye, the hairdryer was going strong at 7:30 a.m. Then, once I got back from China, I noticed that there are no outlets in the TWO bathrooms of my apartment that I share with Lafonda and Cher…unless I am totally missing something…which is a likelihood.

^^^ Sorry Princess : /

In my room at home, my bed hides two outlets. Granted, I have a rather large bed for my rather tiny, somewhat closet-sized room. But still! When I want to unplug my lamp on my bedside table to change the light bulb, I have to contort my body into this really awkward pretzel stance where my right arm is twisted back behind the headboard and my knees are bent really low to the ground, like I am about to sumo tackle the table. Cher, if you ever try to document that pose, I will exhibit aggressive behaviors…I know you are reading this and I know where you sleep; next to me. Heed my warning. And I love you. : )

Another thing. I think that kids today will be able to measure their growth, not in height or maturity, but by how many things they have charging overnight. It’s like, the older and more important you become in society, the more electronics you need. I was looking around my room one night and noticed that I had all of the following plugged in: my iPod (first and foremost), cell phone (which I also have an extra battery for), laptop computer, and finally my camera battery. And of course all of these things must charge overnight because I don’t have enough outlet space to keep my lamps plugged in; I have no light source during charge time. So once I obtain more ridiculous communication tools, I will know for sure that I have been inducted into the adult world.

^^^ Yep…you do it too.

I will leave you with this final thought, readers: Be thankful for the few loyal outlets you have. They work harder than the rest (really, they do). And next time you are having trouble finding an outlet (probably within the next half hour), just cuss to yourself and realize that the rest of the world is having the exact same problem…quite possibly at the exact same time…because this problem exists ALL THE TIME. Good luck with this epidemic.

Man’s best friend, my best friend: Tess.

I have some rather sad news for all of my readers, especially those who know me personally. My dog, Tess, will be sent that fire hydrant in the sky tomorrow morning at 10:40 a.m. Although this makes me very sad, I believe this is her time. So I will take a moment out to commemorate my life with my dog.

It was the summer of 1994 when I first met Tess. My mother had found an ad in the newspaper announcing that free puppies were being given away in a nearby town. Mom loaded myself and my older brother (whom I shall dub “Jake”) into our Buick and drove us for what seemed like a decade out of our hometown. In reality, it was only about a forty minute drive but to the mind of a young girl, forty minutes is an eternity. So we finally arrive at this backwoods home in this backwoods town to see dogs of all shapes and sizes running around the yard. The mother pooch was a medium sized brownish dog and the papa was a larger, black, aggressive looking fellow (he probably wasn’t that big or mean…I was just six years old). Immediately, we were introduced to two of the remaining puppies, a girl named “Feisty” and a boy whose name I cannot remember. Feisty was jet black while the boy looked like an undersized Saint Bernard; he was many shades of brown. I decided immediately that I did NOT like Feisty. She bit my fingers. And after poking at the boy for a moment, I decided that he was boring. The owner mentioned that there was another pup “around here somewhere” so as my mom and brother continued discussing our selection with the woman, I stole away in search for the third.

The sun cooked my skin as I stared out upon the gravel drive for a little ball of fur. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two little black paws being pulled up underneath an old blue truck; she was running from something and my first guess is that it was me. Crouching down, I laid myself flat out on my stomach atop the hot gravel. I reached out, stretching my short arms as much as my joints would allow enough to grab her back paws just in time before she got too far under the vehicle for me to reach. “Gotcha!” And I pulled her out from underneath the truck, back into the hot sun. I ran to the deck where my mom and Jake were standing with the other dogs and the woman to show them my new discovery. “And this is Small Stuff, the runt.” I loved her immediately. (Ironically, I was later named “Short Stuff” by my soccer coach).

^^^ This is kinda what Tess looked like as a puppy…Except with a long tail and floppy ears, similar in size but not in stand-up ability.

The puppy was shy but her tail wagged with excitement. “We’ll take her!” After picking about 5 ticks out of her ears (one was the size of bean), we got back in the car with the puppy and took her home. She was completely black except for a stark white “T” on her chest area, hence the name “Tess” by my mom.

Tess quickly became my playmate. I would wrap her in my baby blankets and make obstacle courses for her (which she got REALLY good at!). She became much more personable and as we got older together, we would have full conversations. I would bring her inside after I got home from school and she would sit on the bottom step in the basement where I would say to her, “Talk to me. Tell me all about it.” And she would make noises at me. Not just barking either! Like, sometimes she would seem disgruntled. Other times, she was excited and happy.

^^^ This is kinda exaggerated but this is how she looks up at us, to this day, where you can see the bottoms of the whites of her eyes.

She never once “pottied” in the house and was never a lap dog that never gave us our space. She was content to sit on her rug by the fireplace and talk to us occasionally. After a good chat, she would snuggle against our legs if we sat on the floor. Or sometimes she would sit up on her back legs, vocalizing her need for attention, her front legs flailing about.

^^^ Like this! “Love me!”

Tess was the ultimate herding dog. She is a major mutt, but the two dominate breeds coursing through her blood are Welsh Corgi and Border Collie. The most frustrating thing about her is her insatiable desire to herd large vehicles…Like my school bus. I would wait at my bus stop and as the big Twinkie pulled up, she would dart out of our yard like a bat out of hell (and boy could she go!). Running down the bus aisle to the fire escape door, I would yell at her through the glass to “Go home, Tess! No! Bad dog!” She especially likes UPS trucks…or disliked, rather. Minivans are also a favorite.

+

^^^ I chose these pictures because Tess makes these faces…and she definitely scaled a low brick wall in our backyard once when we threw a tennis ball over it. She’s a beast.

She knows the word “Squirrel.” The dogs on our block have a secret society called the “Squirrel Squad.” One will bark to sound the alarm and then they are all armed and ready. Tess is the President and my dad is her accomplice. He’d spot one and whisper (even if we were inside the house), “Tess…Squirrel. Squirrel…” Her ears were perk up and as soon as the back door was open, she was like a bullet out of a gun. She may have not known WHERE the squirrel was, but if it got in her path, she would have mowed it down…if she didn’t chicken out at the last minute.

So to sum things up, over the past six months, Tess has simply gotten old. At this point, she can hardly stand on her own without falling over. Today, I was getting ready to go work at the gallery when she somehow managed to walk all the way back to my bedroom and collapse on a pile of my books on my floor. She just laid there, ears perked up like she was waiting for me to tell her something interesting. I adjusted her position slightly and finished getting ready. This past Thursday was the worst when I found her laying behind the shed in our backyard, shivering on one of the hottest days of the year. She hardly responded when I called her name.

We have spent a lot of quality time with her these past few days and even though it’s not the happiest of events, I have come to terms with Tess opening a new chapter in her book. I made a distressed call to Lafonda recently and she responded with, “Dogs DO go to heaven! You’ll see!” I believe it.

^^^ Nothing warms the heart like a cold nose.

Love.

Alright, already…I will broach THE topic. (I am sitting here thinking to myself exactly this: “My God…WHERE do I even begin?”) If God could answer this question, I believe that the concept of love would no longer exist. I believe that love is the truest of all mysteries. It is something that all human beings will spend their whole lives trying to figure out. Many may claim that they have decoded this thing we call “love” but just because you have obtained it doesn’t mean you understand it. Understanding love takes the true part out of the love equation.

^^^ ::sigh:: Am I making you sick already? Good.

I will explain myself a bit. Tonight I had a girls night out with my mother, a good friend I went to high school with who I will call “Roxanne,” and her mother. One guess as to what we saw: Sex and the City. Now, I KNOW what you’re thinking. “Oh here it goes; chick flick feedback.” But truly, I want to express a part of the film that really moved me. For those of you who haven’t seen it and plan to do so, stop reading and come back later! THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING! I am going to give away some information of the utmost importance…Here it goes. (If you’re still reading, my ruining the film is all YOUR fault). Early on, Carrie and Big casually decide to get married. There was no ring, no big proposal…It was going to be a simple and quiet wedding. Well, of course, Carrie Bradshaw, writer and fashion icon from Vogue magazine, CANNOT have a simple quiet wedding. One thing led to another (through pressures from the outside world) and it became a huge event in New York. The big day arrives and Big is feeling the heat. Everything feels impersonal to him. He arrives at the wedding location, the library in New York (big deal) but he can’t go inside. Carrie had lost her phone and missed all his calls, saying that he wanted to go in with her. Finally after she reaches the foyer and the ceremony is about to begin, she is informed of his absence. Big gave his driver directions to leave the library but as soon as he pulls out, he realizes his mistake. Carrie is absolutely devastated (obviously). She drops the phone and in a panic, orders for her friends (Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha) to “Get me out of here!” As they fled the scene, Big was rushing back to find Carrie and the two vehicles meet in the road, both screeching to a halt. Carrie gets out of the limo, storms up to Big and begins wailing on him with the bouquet, tears, screaming, yelling, friends attempting to restrain her. “I KNEW you would do this! I KNEW it! You did it! I knew you would leave me there!” (side note: Big has a history of shying away from commitment…he’s been married twice before and he is, shall we say, gun shy). As white petals rained down like an arctic snow, Carrie turned to find the arms of Charlotte who helped her back into the car. Trying to recreate this scene in writing is impossible. As I read what I’ve written, I cannot see it the same way I felt it two hours ago. I cried. Because I know that feeling. I know that anger. That’s exactly what it is. It’s not being heartbroken. It’s not loosing the one you love. It is pure anger.

^^^ This is the moment. Look at her face. (I have to say it: I think Sarah Jessica Parker is great.)

What happens is you find that you are truly happy and then the other person does the unthinkable. Something that can’t be undone. They cheat on you, or seriously express doubt, or they repeat an offense that they have vowed not to repeat. The thoughts that go through your head are something like, “It was so perfect, until you did this! You ruined us! I was happy! I thought this was IT! Now I have to start from scratch. Everything we have built is good for nothing and there is no way we can go back.” But when I think back on this chapter, I realize, “Perhaps that’s what makes it love (even when it doesn’t work out). Perhaps it’s the real anger of watching it all float away…Because you KNEW that’s what you wanted. The confidence in the relationship made it true.” You can’t fake confidence when it comes to loving someone. You either are or you’re not. And maybe we feel that anger because we realized that we were WRONG.

^^^ It really stinks to know…and then realize you don’t.

So what happens after the breakup? The dating process. I hate this part. I mean, dating is fun, but what happens if you like the person but then as things progress, you decide, “Well…we’d be OK together…but it’s not a perfect fit.” Then what?! “Oh, hey…I am really sorry…I really liked you but I don’t anymore. Friends?” It’s ok if you don’t like the person to begin with because then you don’t even go into the dating thing; it’s never a problem. And if you like the person and keep liking them…Well, you do the math. It’s the in-between paradox that leaves my taste buds feeling soured. ::scrunched up face:: It makes me sad.

But truly, we can’t all be “the one” for EVERYONE. That totally defeats the purpose. I asked my mom how long it took her to figure out that my dad was “the one.” She replied, “Not long.” I inquired more, “Like, what? A year?” She laughed at me, “About a month.” It was like a big “NO PRESSURE!” sign on the wall.

The mystery of love is ongoing. You never know when you’re going to find it, how old or young you may be, or if you’ll ever find it AT ALL. It comes in different forms and figures. And it will NEVER be understood. As I have gotten older, I have tried to grasp the thought that I may never find true love. Not everyone finds this diamond in the rough; only those who are very lucky.

^^^ Shanghai is for lovers, no kidding. Couples were EVERYWHERE!

Recently, I wished on a falling star. Later, a friend asked me what I wished for, and because I don’t believe that revealing wishes will prevent them from actually happening, I divulged the information. I realized that when given the chance to wish for something (blowing out birthday cake candles, 11:11, New Years…), I always wish for one of two things: Success (in my career, as a scientist, getting my Ph.D…) and for love (I wish the most for this one). I always seem to pray in my mind, “I wish that I may find my one true love and have a happy life with him.” (I always add on that last part because you never know! I could find him and it could end terribly, or never begin at all!)

^^^ “When you wish upon a star…”

Anyway…it’s late…and I have bug collecting tomorrow. You are probably wondering where all this is going but folks, I said it in the beginning: Love is undefined. It is the truest of mysteries. So if you were expecting a definition out of this writing, I apologize but I could not give it to you with hundreds of years of research (not to mention immortality) and all the lovely experiences in the world. Love is unchained. Undefined. Ever changing. And in it’s greatest light, ever growing.

P.S.- I think I am going to have to broach this topic again in my next entry…I left out a lot.

Just wanted to say…

I like Cheerios with a little sugar. I ate a scorpion. I can take desert orders at the restaurant now. My mom is pretty. I have been on the other side of the planet. I know what an angstrom is. I have a bag of bug specimens in my room. My best friends love me and would do anything for me. I know a few constellations because my Dad is in our county Astronomy Club. I like my house; it has barn wood walls. I don’t believe in digital clocks unless it’s for your alarm. I enjoy cooking. I have a size 5 foot and it makes me feel like Cinderella. Adventure is my favorite thing. My dog knows my voice. I am lucky enough to live in the mountains which fuels my hunger for the outdoors.

Simply put, I felt like expounding on some of the things that make me really lucky and happy as a human being. ::sigh…smile::

The most frightening thing that’s ever happened to me: The Quest for the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.

I will cut right to the chase, readers. Today, I drove my boss’s (from the art gallery) sport utility BMW. As in, A REALLY NICE AUTOMOBILE! And folks, it was the scariest thing I have ever done in my life…well, maybe not the scariest, but certainly one of the most nerve-racking.

^^^ “Oh my GOODNESS! I have to drive THAT?!” ::sigh…faint…plop::

Here’s what happened: This Thursday evening, we are hosting an expose (there is supposed to be an accent ague on that last “e” but I forgot how to type French special characters) for one of our newest featured artists, Juan. He is an extremely talented young modern painter/sculptor. Anyway, I digress. So my big task was to scrub our beautiful white walls with the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser sponge. In an art gallery, there is a lot of hanging, taking down, and re-hanging of artwork, so the walls accumulate a frightful amount of scuffs and lesions. As i progressed in my task, my Mr. Clean Magic Eraser began to disintegrate right in my hand. Finally, when all I had left was a sliver, I reported to my boss that I needed another. We ventured to the closet to get a new one but, lo and behold! We had used ALL of them.

My boss gave me some money and asked me to walk to the convenient store and get some more. It was a lovely day, not too hot and certainly not too cold (after all, it is summer in the South). I strolled leisurely through downtown, admiring the old brick buildings, observing all the men eating at the sidewalk cafes on their lunch breaks. Passing through the center square, I breathed in the foody smells and swung my purse back and forth in time with the carefree breeze…All to find that not one, but BOTH convenient stores did not carry the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. How convenient.

^^^ “Where in the HECK are you, Mr. Clean?!”

SO! I pick up my pace and got back to the gallery to deliver the sad news. Her response, “Would you mind going to pick up some more? Where is the nearest CVS? Just down the highway? Oh, that’s only about 15 minutes away.”

“Um,” I didn’t want to be rude but, “I am in all day parking. If I leave, I will have to pay again once I get back.” Mind you, I am a volunteer intern…AKA, poor. And my boss is REALLY cool and totally understands.

“Oh! Well you can take my car. Where did I put those keys…?” She searched through her purse in the break room and found her set of keys, the pieces of metal jingling in their imminent use. “I’ll take you out to the car and show you a few things before you leave.”

I followed her excitedly, because who doesn’t like the idea of driving a different car? She rounded the corner to the parking lot and headed towards this beautiful BMW. My heart skipped a beat…or several. ::cough:: She turned on the car, showed me the gadgets, and let me in. At first, it was a feeling of power. But that feeling faded within seconds when I tried to back out and the darn thing started beeping at me, like if the car had hands, it would be giving me the bird. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the beeping was a sensor, saying that I was too close to something. So this beeper was going crazy for like, five minutes nonstop because I was in a very tight parking space, driving an SUV. “Dear Lord…Oh dear Lord…” I must have said this ten times. So after my backing out adventure and getting stuck in between and truck and a minivan (somebody really needs to make that parking lot more accommodating to larger vehicles), I was finally on the road.

^^^ This is pretty much what I drove…I think…

The driving part was fine; it was the parking and backing up part that gave me the most trouble…and the fact that everything in this car was so high-tech that I had no clue what was going on. So I successfully reached the CVS, unscathed. I went in to find that even THEY didn’t carry Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. As I got back into the car to drive .01 miles to the grocery store, the car wouldn’t seem to start. You know how you can feel a car’s engine rev up? Well, as hard as I turned the key, I didn’t feel it. Then the car began to VERY SLOWLY back out of it’s space, seemingly by itself. The wheel was still locked and I had no control. Luckily I picked up on the subtle movements and hit the breaks, preventing the vehicle from actually leaving it’s parking space. But it took me a good two minutes to start the car. All I had to do was take the key out of the ignition and restart it, turning the key more effectively. Now readers, I know what you’re thinking. “Wow, this girl is a REALLY bad driver.” But I don’t drive a smooth, perfect car. I drive the most basic thing anyone could possibly imagine: A Chevy Prism. It makes a loud noise when I turn it on, so I know it’s ON. It’s small so I can actually see out of the back. This BMW makes no noises! IT DOESN’T TALK TO ME! How am I supposed to communicate with this car that refuses to talk to me?!

^^^ This is basically my car. Imagine this with chipped paint and an insect graveyard on the windshield.

So I drove down to the grocery store and got those darned Erasers of the Magical variety and went back to the gallery. The rest of my journey was uneventful. But let me tell you, I broke a sweat driving that thing. All I could think of was, “What would happen if I wrecked? What would happen if I got caught speeding? What if? What if?!!” I was so consumed with taking care of this really nice car that I worked myself into a nervous frenzy, causing myself to loose focus and screw up a couple of times.

But as I said, driving was perfectly easy. And once I got used to the car, I rather enjoyed myself! Aside from all the minor dramas a pauper may experience when having luxury thrust upon oneself, I got to spend twenty minutes on a leather throne.

I wish I were a dancer.

I think it is safe to say that each person has their own secret fantasy about what they WISH they could be. For me, I have always secretly wanted to be a ballerina. Not just a part-time one, but the girl who dances the lead in Swan Lake.

^^^ Swan Lake. I know it’s girly, but I could watch ballet dancers until the cows come home.

Ironically, I was once a little ballerina, as all girls are at one point or another, it seems. I remember doing leaps across the studio floor, learning to plier and such. Even though I have this dream today, I never remember enjoying it that much when I was a little girl. Perhaps it was because there was this one girl in the class who always tormented me. (side note: As I have grown older, I have come to find that in my gender, there will ALWAYS be that ONE girl who terrorizes your life in some way or another, no matter where you go). Now, let me remind readers that I have NEVER been a violent person. On the contrary, I am extremely non confrontational. I will avoid a skirmish at all costs, even if it means making myself a martyr. So on with the story! At the end of each month, my ballet instructor would hand out stickers and certificates of achievement to each student, commending the individuals progress. All the parents would pile into the room and video (or at least mine did), clapping ridiculously when the instructor announced that “Julie mastered her second position!” Well! The evil girl received her scratch-n-sniff sticker (no mistake, they were indeed, scratch-n-sniff) along with her certificate. She marched up to me and put her sticker in my face, forcing me to smell it, making the point that I didn’t have one yet. There was only one way to handle that. I pushed her. And my mother videoed it (truth be told, I don’t know where that video is). I didn’t deck her to the floor or anything; I simply pushed her. She quietly went back to her mat and sat down and I received my sticker and certificate. But to be quite frank, I was embarrassed with myself. I shoved another girl in front of all those moms and dads and I felt very sorry for it. That might explain why I quit ballet.

^^^ “But she’s mean to me!”

Perhaps I should be more selective in my dancing. Irish step. Now THAT would be cool. To tell the truth, I did happen to take a couple beginner lessons in Irish Step when I was in my early teens and it is no walk in the park. I had to give up the dream because the closest instructor lived an hour away from me. : ( But I loved it! And I retained the skills to do a basic reel…a VERY BASIC reel.

^^^ Oh man, that would be so cool. Wasn’t there a Crest Whitestrips commercial that showed a woman day-dreaming about doing the River Dance with William Shatner? See, I am not the only one.

Lafonda wanted to be an astronaut, the chemist that she is. Cher wanted to be an archaeologist, or maybe I should skip the bull and say that Cher wanted to be Indiana Jones. My mother wanted to be named Michelle and my father wanted to be a pilot.

^^^ What Lafonda dreams about vs. what Cher dreams about…and no, it’s not Harrison Ford, seriously.

So, readers, I urge you to sit back and think on this: What is your dream? It can be anything. And I could be really cheesy and say, “Now go out and chase that dream! Become that dream!” But, no, I don’t think so. Part of having a dream is keeping it a dream. At least that’s what I am telling myself because these hips were REALLY NOT made for dancing. It’s something you think about when you close your eyes at night, on the verge of sleep. You’ll see yourself walking on the moon, cracking a bull-whip, gathering evidence at a crime scene, singing the lead in an opera, or simply raising a family. It’s whatever your mind may conjure up. Sweet dreams, folks!

The top 5 things I WISH I took to China.

Noticing a trend, folks? I am missing China some more. As much as I love my internship, research, and hostessing job (and I am not even being sarcastic), I really miss that place. SO! I was thinking back on my trip and I remembered a few things that were missing while I was abroad. I shall list them here:

1. American snacks. (You name it; granola bars, a loaf of bread, peanut butter… The funny thing is, I went to visit my grandparents before the trip and my grandma, in all of her motherly concern, reminded me, “Make sure you take some crackers!” My response was, “Ok, grandma, I will. Good idea.” My actual thought was, “Oh, how cute! Nope.” And go figure. About three days into the trip I was like, “CRACKERS! I WANT CRACKERS NOW!” This woman is the cracker queen too. I took Lafonda and Cher to meet my grandparents in the sticks of Virginia last summer. As soon as we got there, grandma was M.I.A. making cracker platters in the kitchen. As soon as she was finished with three different plates of carbs, it was time for us to go. Oh, grandma…I love ya! I’m so young and I THINK I know everything. Little Miss invincible over here. WRONG! I’ll come down one day.)

^^^ Yes, please.

2. The Lord of the Rings; The Fellowship of the Ring. (Ok, get serious people. This was a HUGE predicament. For those of you who know me, you know that I am absolutely consumed by this tale that took me over when I was in middle school. I decided over winter break that I would reread Tolkien’s masterpiece and although I was mostly finished with the first book, I was unable to complete it during the semester due to work overload. During the packing process, I must have put that old, tattered book in my carry-on bag three different times but I kept taking it out, saying to myself, “You’re gonna be in freakin’ China. You’re NOT going to be reading about Frodo Baggins and his death-defying adventures. There will simply be no time!” Friends, I was not thinking straight. I had a 15 hour flight from Atlanta to Shanghai and another coming back. Misery, I tell you. Horrid misery. What’s more, we had tons of time to chill in the room. I thought that I would be studying my Chinese history book during those times, but I was not my normal studious self on this particular trip. I day-dreamed about that text; the torn cover with two layers of scotch tape across the top, the raised golden lettering spelling out the title, the millions of creases in the binding that almost breaks the book in two. ::Sigh::…::BIG sigh:: Ok. I’ll move on.

^^^ If only my book cover was like this awesome vintage one. I need a drool bucket. “Come to mama!”

3. My linen sun-dress. (It makes me feel pretty. And it was sunny in China! Smoggy, but sunny…behind the smog.)

4. My laptop computer. (It would have been so much easier to write my blog entries and download my pictures if I had taken my own computer. Poor Princess and Faun had to loan theirs to me on several occasions. Thanks to you both! It helped tons!)

^^^ This is my laptop. It’s red. It makes me smile.

5. A smaller umbrella. ( I took an umbrella but it didn’t fit in my bookbag-purse. This meant that when it looked like rain, I had to carry my umbrella which is fine, but the whole reason I use a bookbag-purse is to free up my hands. I hate carrying things. The good thing about my bigger umbrella is that when it DID rain, I had more coverage. Sweet.)

So now that I have bored you all once more with China, I will continue to jog my brain for things to write about. There’s this thing called, “Writer’s Block” and it occasionally sets in. I will keep thinking. Any requests are welcome because now that I am back in the states, I am having a hard time seeing the adventure in my normal, boring, everyday life. But I am trying to be creative. Until next time!

Belle says the darndest things.

This past semester, I had the privilege of studying under one of our three-times-tenured art history professors who used to be head of the art department at my university. She’s an older woman, about 60-ish, always clad in some kind of artsy garb. Because my decision to minor in art history is a recent development, I am presently only two semesters into the task; this past semester consisted of a general art history course. Due to the generalized nature of the course, many of my fellow classmates were simply taking it to fulfill a liberal learning requirement. I was one of few art students in the section, but Belle (my professor) was sure to keep things interesting.

From day one, her off-the-wall comments made her the butt of all her own jokes, although this never SEEMED intentional. She would say something crazy as if it were completely normal and students would laugh AT her, thinking she did not notice.

For example, one day she mentioned that she had an older male friend who enjoyed wearing a headdress that was made of many birds’ nests. Her face remained unmoved by the outrageous tale. When everyone began to laugh and snicker about our “trippin’” professor, she paused and looked at us incredulously as if she did not understand what all the fuss was about.

^^^ “That looks good.”

“What?” She would say. “Is there a problem?” Everyone would hush and she would wait in silence until somebody answered.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” She even double-checked.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“Ya’ll are wild.” She always said this about our group. “During the Baroque period, Rachael Rauch sold more work than Vermeer!” Back on track.

^^^ My Class…Or “Where the Wild Things Are.” I LOVE THIS BOOK! Genious.

I stayed after class often and had many one-on-one converstations with this woman and I have come to the conclusion that she is completely lucid and knows EXACTLY what she is doing, however silly she may seem. No doubt, Belle is not your average professor; she seems to have a devious plan.

So one day, I decided I was going to start writing down some of the crazy things she said during class. To bad for me, I didn’t start doing this until we only had three weeks of class left. Alas, I will list off to you, my faithful readers, some of the darndest things that I happened to catch during those last three weeks of Belle’s art history course.

1. “Every day is a good day when you see a severed head.”

2. “He lived until he died.” (truly.)

3. “Bless the French for having such bulls.” (apparently the French have to import their bulls from Spain for bull-fighting because bulls bred in France won’t fight; goes to show, the French are lovers, not fighters)

4. “I was not incarcerated, by the way.” (I don’t even know where this came from…)

5. “Hush! Jesus! Sorry. And all of his disciples.” (to us kids)

6. “I have had too much experience with urinals.” (a woman…hmmm)

7. “Oh don’t loose your cell phone! Someone might use it for a drug deal!” (…? I am at a loss.)

So there you have it! Belle says the darndest things! I love this woman so much that I picked her up a little treat while in Shanghai. I am utterly excited to see her again so I may tell her all MY crazy tales from this summer. Not to mention that she is my advisor for my Gallery internship. Professor love!

Missing China…A lot…

I miss China a lot. But you probably got that from the title. For the first couple of days that I was back in the states, I was like, “Yeah! Arnold’s 12-grain bread!” But then I began to miss the chopsticks and the cheap shopping and my friends from the trip. The whole experience was incredible.

^^^ AHHHH! My love!

But you are probably wondering what else I did in China after my last entry! I shopped. We went back to the Yu Garden Market, that magical place of spending money and angry hagglers, and I made myself a pauper. I think I made two trips to the ATM machine. Shhh! But I bought some REALLY cool stuff for Cher and Lafonda…and myself. There is Chinese stuff all over my house now. I wear my red silk robe on a regular basis. So that about covers the ending of the Orient. The last night was the ONE TIME we ever had any trouble finding dinner. The restaurant that was requested was completely full of people and smoke so we opted not to eat there. We ended up at this place that does spicy foods. Spicy food is great and all…but it’s not my forte. Essentially, my last meal in China was less than wonderful but not bad in the least. The dumplings were good!

^^^ Apparently, dumplings are a Beijing specialty. Yummy.  : )

At the beginning of the trip when so many things went wrong with Delta airlines, I said to myself, “The trip back is going to be a breeze…when time doesn’t really count.” And wha-do-ya-know! Our timing was perfect. All of our flights left on time or early. No luggage was lost. I threw my hands up at this. “Seriously?!”

As we landed in Virginia, my stomach was in knots, for I knew that soon I would be reunited with my dear friends, Lafonda and Cher. I was the first one off the plane and let me tell you, buddy, I was on a mission. As I rounded the corner to walk down the terminal, I see these hands off in the distance bouncing up and down and a sweet voice calling my name. It was Lafonda and I ran…again, like an idiot. When I reached them I dropped my bags and hugged them ridiculously. Choking back tired tears, we made our way to the luggage pick-up where I said goodbye to all my new friends from the trip. I will name them all now:

Princess, Scarlet, the Little Mermaid, Thelma and Louise (these two come in pairs), Faun, Birdie, Miss Cleo, Columbus, All Star, Prince Eduard the forty-seventh (what’s the roman numeral for that again?!), and Captain America (our American professor). We said goodbye to Dr. China in Shanghai. He stayed behind to visit family and do some research.

In other news, I HAVE A J-O-B! And research. And an internship. My little hands are full for the summer; just the way I like it. So, another list. I will be working as a hostess in one of our local fine-dining establishments in the ritzy part of town. I get to rub elbows with doctors and lawyers and…big people. Because it is fine dining, I only work in the evenings so during the weekdays I will either be doing insect research for George Washington/ Jefferson National forest or I will be helping out at one of our local art galleries. Today was great because I had an opportunity to meet with the department of forestry where they loaded me down with all these maps of waterways and research locations. I have a list of “rare invertebrate species of Virginia” sitting on my cluttered dresser as I type. I have a TON of research to do tonight. A trip to Barnes and Noble is in the works where I will slave away on one of two things: Bugs or Modern Art. Indeed.

I will close now with thoughts of China. I miss the people. Watching them and observing their lives was the greatest gift of all on this journey. One afternoon on another bus trip, we were sitting at a stoplight and I looked down on all of these middle class men sitting atop their mopeds with their briefcases slug over a shoulder, the straps clinging to their torsos. One man looked at his watch. Another flipped through his iPod. The next stuffed a newspaper in his basket. “They’re just like us,” I thought. I pictured them all in blue collars, sitting in the front seat of a sedan, getting a phone call from their wives, “Are you almost home? Chicken is in the oven.” We’re all the same on this planet.

^^^ A common view in Shanghai.

This past Saturday at our local Sidewalk Art Show, I was moseying around in this one booth and within seconds of viewing one of the paintings, I knew it was China. I found the artist, a little Asian woman, and asked her immediately, “Excuse me. Is that Suzhou?” She laughed and nodded vigorously. She grew up in Shanghai. I went back on Sunday and bought some of her work. She gave me a discount and we got our picture together. I agreed to come back next year and buy an original from her. I said “Thank you,” in Chinese and left. It’s a small world after all.

^^^ This is very similar to one of the prints I bought. Breathtaking.

My Marvelous Adventures in China: Part 3

Ladies and gentlemen, I have climbed the Great Wall of China…Not quite in its entirety, but a portion of it. And let me tell you, it is no picnic! Even as one of the Hikers, I came away very winded and sweaty. But first, I should rewind to a few days ago and give you the info in chronological order.

I am going to be mostly short and sweet. Monday, I tried my hand at Chinese calligraphy and I wasn’t TOO bad at it after some practice. Be warned though; the ink is some serious stuff. No, mom, I did not ruin any clothing. : ) That night, we went to a Chinese acrobatic show which was really entertaining. The contortionists are always my favorite, probably because I really wish I could be that flexible and awesome. Why can’t I fit in a clay pot? Oh yeah…I’m not cool like that (not to mention my genetic condition of “Bubbulus gluteus maxxxxximus”; thanks again Dad). They also had seven, count it, SEVEN motorcycles in one of those metal ball things, all of them spinning around each other, dodging and missing one another by micrometers. Scary!

On Tuesday, we learned the traditional Chinese folk song, “Jasmine.” Luckily we had a GREAT teacher, this tiny little Chinese music major from the University. She was very nice and had a beautiful voice. On Tuesday night, something great happened. Myself and some fellow students finally went into the central part of Shanghai…BY OURSELVES! No tour guides, no professors, no interpreters. It was so great. As much as we all love Dr. China, we were searching for a thread of independence in Shanghai. This was quite a feat. Shanghai has to be one of the top three most populated cities in the world. Not to mention the huge language barrier. We do have a couple young gentlemen on the trip that opted to go and have a Chinese language class under their belts. These two include Birdie and another whom I shall dub “Columbus.” Even with some Chinese language background, both Birdie and Columbus have a limited vocabulary. After all, Mandarin Chinese is one of the most difficult languages to learn, if not, THE most difficult to learn. But we got on the bus, paid, got off the bus, bought subway tickets, got on the subway, and then got off the subway without much trouble at all. Dare I say it? It went smoothly! I was elated to find that I had this ability. A couple years ago, I went to New York City, just myself and a couple friends alone. By throwing myself in that situation, I had to adapt. Now I can say with confidence that if you dropped me anywhere in the city today, I could navigate my way through. I wanted to be able to do that in Shanghai. I don’t know if I will get that good, but I know all the important routes.

We shopped. I spent a lot of money. ::cough:: Oh, the pain.

The next morning, our class took the final exam for the Chinese history course which we have been partaking in all this time. It consisted of three essay questions. Let us pray: “Dear Lord. Please grant me an ‘A’.” In all seriousness, it wasn’t bad.

We took the afternoon off to get ready for Beijing and left for the airport at 4:30 p.m. Our flight was scheduled for 7:30. We touched down in Beijing on Wednesday night at around 9:50 p.m. and got to the hotel at about 11:00. Disclaimer: this hotel is like something out of a horror film. Crooked lamps, dim lights that sometimes work, and ancient wood furnishings all come together to make this place the Hotel of Death. I love it. Heartbreak Hotel, anyone?

Thursday was mostly spent in the Forbidden City and the Summer Palace. Both were beautiful but extremely crowded. Once again, I had some folks request to have their picture taken with me…only this time, they were definitely Asian guys of the creeper variety. And they can NEVER get a group picture and be done with it. No, they all take turns posing with me individually, like I am some Olympic metal. I mean, we ARE in Beijing, but c’mon guys! The games don’t start for another two months! So the first guy was pretty nice and just stood next to me for a photo. After this documentation was completed, his friend stepped up to the plate. First, he put his arm around my shoulders. It wasn’t TOO awkward at this point (granted, it’s always a little strange) but then he placed his other arm across the front of me, like a hug position. Don’t get the wrong idea; I wasn’t harassed or anything, but some boundaries were definitely being pushed to the MAX. Princess captured the moment with my camera and although I was apparently beet red at the time, I am glad of it because the picture is priceless. My face says it all. My eyes are looking sideways for help from anyone and the guy and staring into the lens of the camera with this ridiculous grin on his face. Good one. Princess has also had a lot of opportunities to be documented. She has gotten to the point where she throws up the peace sign and smiles.

^^^ I walked across that bridge! Cool!!! Oh yeah, this a view of the entrance to the Forbidden City.

This brings us to Friday: The Great Wall of China. Beforehand, we visited the Jade factory which I regret to inform everyone that I was unable to purchase anything there. You know that cheap green stuff you find in the United States that people call Jade? It’s not real. The REAL stuff is REALLY expensive. Sorry Mom. We’re talking hundreds of U.S. dollars (thousands of yuan).

^^^ Jade Beads

After that, we loaded back onto the bus to make our way to the Wall and let me tell you, the mountains there are ridiculous! They were so majestic. I felt like I was traveling through an old Chinese work of art with the intense landscape and tiny people on a little ledge of rock in a sea of jutting mountains. The wall was extremely crowded. We got there at rush hour, basically. Once again, the Chinese wanted pictures with some of us. This time, it sorta caused a scene so more and more people wanted pictures with me. Once there was a pause, I fled to another position. Upon reaching the top point in our segment of Wall, our group attempted to take a group picture. This was quite the spectacle. There were already TONS of people at the very top (go figure) but suddenly when a group of Americans positions themselves for a picture, all the locals seem to think that it means, “American photo shoot!” Some tried to jump into our group picture and have there friends grab a snapshot. Dr. China became very irritated at this and began fussing at these tourists in Chinese. It was so cool to watch. “You show em’ who’s boss, Doc!” We were basically looking out at a field of cameras and we posed for Dr. China.

Other than that, I believe that I and Columbus traveled the farthest on the wall out of our entire group. We wanted to get pictures without the crowds in the background and that meant walking in the opposite direction of the exit. It was worth it. I wanted to experience the Wall in its most raw form, away from people and sounds; just me, stone, wind, and earth.

^^^ If only my trip was as serene as this picture. Oh well. It was still marvelous.

On the way back, one of my new friends (I will name her Miss Cleo) was attempting to pose for a picture that I was taking of her. She was trying to back up and in doing so (on one of the steepest segments of the Wall) fell backwards. Luckily, she landed comfortably on her rear; Miss Cleo, full of grace. And what’s better, I caught the moment with my camera–golden.

At dinner back in the city, Miss Cleo’s roommate, “Faun,” found the foot of a chicken in her soup. We came to realize that these black, scaly feet were in all of our soups…Including mine. Ha. I had some of the broth. That means I have consumed chicken-foot broth. Mmm-mmm good. I need to call Campbell’s, ASAP and patent the idea. I will call it, “Beijing Brilliance.”

Today (Saturday), we went to the Temple of Heaven which was crawling with locals near the entrance, some who were practicing tai chi, others who were playing traditional Chinese instruments in a band together, more were singing in a choir. The place was so full of life and happenings. There was a whole line of people playing cards in little groups. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people were around, participating in some spiritual activity or physical activity. The sense of community was amazing. Even in a huge city like Beijing, all these people got up on a Saturday morning, came to the same place, and interacted with one another. So many human moments were to be had. I was really disappointed that we had to leave that area so soon. The temple was beyond the mob so our group served as simple passers-by. : ( I wanted to hug them…all of them.

^^^ Temple of Heaven. I have several pictures of me standing in front of this. Again I say, “Cool!”

After the Temple of Heaven, we visited Tienanmen Square. In case some of you don’t remember, this was the site of the Tienanmen massacre in 1989, I believe. From what I can gather at this point, there were Chinese students who were protesting the communist Chinese government. Apparently the government originally sympathized with these protesters, saying that they were on their side and things would change eventually. But the students did not relent and the government decided they needed to fix the problem immediately. Tanks rolled into the square and an unknown number of students and protestors were killed. Now, keep in mind that I am not a history major and we did not learn about this in class. Apparently it is a VERY sensitive subject in China. No one, not even the tour guide, mentioned this occurrence when we visited the square. It was extremely eerie.

^^^  : (       The June 4th Incident (1989)    Apparently this photo is pretty famous.

Moving on. In other strange foods, I ATE A SCORPION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I ATE A SCORPION! Scorpion. I ate one. That’s all I feel that I can say but I will elaborate. We went to this shopping district and of course the first thing I wanted to do was find a back street with shady looking things happening. Success. We found a stand that was selling roasted seahorse, some kind of cocoon-looking thing, cicadas, starfish, some kind of lizard, bats, and octopus. Yummy. Among these many treats were skewered scorpions: four per stick. They were still alive on the skewer. The cook was sure to entertain us by blowing on them to demonstrate the insects squirming. Their legs writhed around, stingers searching for a target, unsuccessful. How were they still alive, you ask? They put the wooden steak through the most superficial layer of exoskeleton on the underbelly of these guys. All the vital organs were left untouched. So a fellow student mentioned that all her older brother wanted from this trip/ for his upcoming birthday was a picture of “Scarlet” with a scorpion’s tail sticking out of her mouth. She selected her “spear des scorpions” (said with a thick French accent, bien sur!) and the so-called chef (basically a guy with a grill and seasonings) cooked the bugs on the spot. I documented. Originally, I was like, “Yeah! This looks cool!” Then when I actually saw her do it, I was like, “No way.” Then Louise jumped in, “I’ll do it!” followed by Columbus, “Me too!” My claim to fame is that I will really eat anything you put in front of me. I am not a picky eater at all. So I started thinking, “I can’t lose my title.” AND! How cool would it be to say that I have eaten a scorpion? Really cool! So I did. I ate it. There is a video and I squealed like a little girl. It was crunchy and I ate the stinger too! Top that, Fear Factor!

^^^ This looks very similar to the little guy I munched up. Mmm…

We leave to go back to Shanghai tomorrow. I need to sleep now. As a quick disclaimer: I have been typing these entries very quickly so I apologize if the spelling or description is less than up to par for the past three weeks. It’ll pick up eventually when I get back in the states, I promise!

I miss everyone back at home! Picture shows are going to be epic. LOVE YOU!