When I left China I ended up having about 250RMB with me. I figured this was no big deal since I could give the money to my mom, who visits China every year in the fall to celebrate her mother's birthday. I left the RMB with my dad in South Africa so he could give it to her when she got back from her summer in the US since she would be flying to China in November from Johannesburg. Well, my grandmother's passing last week really threw a loop into those plans, as my mom ended up flying to China from Vermont for the funeral. She doesn't plan to go back for many years, especially considering there is a 3 year prohibition on visiting the grave site (Chinese tradition). So, my poor mom is in China and she can't visit her mom's grave AND she can't visit anyone elseSU's house because of the recent death in the family. From what I understand, there is a concern about bringing the taint of death to others.
So, getting back to my problem of RMB, I decided I would just exchange the RMB into South African Rand so I wouldn't have to hit up the ATM again in Cape Town (I get charged a fee for every ATM use). Well, it turns out no one in South Africa accepts RMB. China, you continue to be the bane of my existence! It's not like I"m rolling up with a wheelbarrow of Zimbabwean dollars! I'm going to try to exchange at JFK if I can, otherwise maybe I can pawn them off onto a Chinese student at T-bird. ARGH, stupid China and your stupid non-convertible currency!!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Subtlety FAIL
My boss has a nasty habit of ragging on his ex-wife. This guy got divorced 5 years ago and he still complains about her all the time in the workplace. I find this inappropriate, rude, juvenile and just plain annoying. What's even more ridiculous is the fact that he is currently engaged to a lovely woman who is intelligent and kind. He really needs to let the hate for his ex-wife go and focus on the positive.
This morning I was in the kitchen getting my cereal ready along with one of our IT guys. My boss comes in to make some coffee and realizes the hot water pitcher is empty. The IT guy had just used it up.
"Oh," my boss snarked, "You're one of those people who doesn't refill the pitcher, hunh?"
"Nope," the IT guy responded. Hah, he's a funny one. He left. My boss then turned to me and says,
"Guess he doesn't get subtlety. My 'darling' ex-wife didn't get subtlety either." I said nothing in response. After a few seconds he asks, "So, no response?"
"I'm keeping out of this one," I replied.
WTF seriously dude? There's no need to be rude. Just say, "Hey, IT guy, next time you empty the pitcher could you please refill it?" Simple, sweet and to the point. And let your hatred go for your ex-wife. It will color your new relationship and your lovely fiancee deserves better. According to one of the consultants at my company, the boss disparages his ex-wife in front of customers/clients as well, which I think is in seriously bad taste.
This morning I was in the kitchen getting my cereal ready along with one of our IT guys. My boss comes in to make some coffee and realizes the hot water pitcher is empty. The IT guy had just used it up.
"Oh," my boss snarked, "You're one of those people who doesn't refill the pitcher, hunh?"
"Nope," the IT guy responded. Hah, he's a funny one. He left. My boss then turned to me and says,
"Guess he doesn't get subtlety. My 'darling' ex-wife didn't get subtlety either." I said nothing in response. After a few seconds he asks, "So, no response?"
"I'm keeping out of this one," I replied.
WTF seriously dude? There's no need to be rude. Just say, "Hey, IT guy, next time you empty the pitcher could you please refill it?" Simple, sweet and to the point. And let your hatred go for your ex-wife. It will color your new relationship and your lovely fiancee deserves better. According to one of the consultants at my company, the boss disparages his ex-wife in front of customers/clients as well, which I think is in seriously bad taste.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Ugh, China, Again
I just got an email from my mother telling me that my Chinese grandmother passed away about an hour and a half ago. She was 90 years old and would have been 91 in October. We knew that my grandmother's health had recently taken a turn for the worse, and my mom had just purchased a ticket to go to China next week to see her. I don't really know what's going to happen with that now.
Anyway, the reason for this update is because I have a strong suspicion that my grandmother could have lived on for quite a while with some holistic treatment such as acupuncture or acupressure. Her symptoms were spine pain and difficulty talking, both of which can be successfully addressed with traditional Chinese medicine. Unfortunately, the relatives who live with her are cursed with a typical Chinese fatalistic attitude. Their feeling was that if it's her time to die, it's her time to die. I'm certainly not advocating for keeping someone alive in a reduced and painful state--not at all. My point is that she was uncomfortable and in pain and they didn't even bother to fucking do anything about it. It's not like we wanted them to put her in the hospital and get a tube down her throat and machines everywhere. We just wanted to see if we could get her back to a level of health where she could move around and get out of bed. My grandmother had a health scare a couple of years ago that was similar, back pain and inability to eat/talk and once again my #3 uncle did jack shit about it. My mom had to call her niece who is a nurse and make the niece's boyfriend (who is a doctor in Shenzhen) bring an IV to the house and hook up my grandmother. Luckily my grandmother recovered from that.
I'm pissed because I feel like this was a waste. My grandmother lived through all the shit that China put her through in the last century, period of warlordism in the 20's, the Nationalists and the Japanese invasion in the 30's, the Communists in the 40's and 50's and then all that additional shit like famines, Great Leap Forward, Cultural Revolution, etc. She had 7 children. She and her husband (and 1st son) WALKED to Hong Kong during the Cultural Revolution because there was no food or work in the village. My grandfather worked as coolie on the docks for a while and then they fucking WALKED back to our village. This village is about 350 kilometers from Hong Kong. She survived all of this against the odds and now she's dead because her stupid fatalistic son wouldn't get off his ass to try to do anything about it.
I was so upset when I got the news from my mom that I went and cried in the ladies room, which was a mini-fatwa in itself because the cleaning lady was mopping the floor and had blocked off the door. There wasn't anywhere else for me to cry on our floor, however, so I just barged in and sat in the 1st stall that has a nice, roomy feel and let it out. The cleaning lady gave me a really dirty look, too. But, come on, lady, it's business hours! Please don't block off the bathroom when there's a time that people will come in! I know she comes in early; I've seen her in there around 7am so she could have done it then. For the first time, though, I was glad that South Africa is obsessed with those European-style toilet rooms, not stalls, You can totally block off from the world in there.
Anyway, the reason for this update is because I have a strong suspicion that my grandmother could have lived on for quite a while with some holistic treatment such as acupuncture or acupressure. Her symptoms were spine pain and difficulty talking, both of which can be successfully addressed with traditional Chinese medicine. Unfortunately, the relatives who live with her are cursed with a typical Chinese fatalistic attitude. Their feeling was that if it's her time to die, it's her time to die. I'm certainly not advocating for keeping someone alive in a reduced and painful state--not at all. My point is that she was uncomfortable and in pain and they didn't even bother to fucking do anything about it. It's not like we wanted them to put her in the hospital and get a tube down her throat and machines everywhere. We just wanted to see if we could get her back to a level of health where she could move around and get out of bed. My grandmother had a health scare a couple of years ago that was similar, back pain and inability to eat/talk and once again my #3 uncle did jack shit about it. My mom had to call her niece who is a nurse and make the niece's boyfriend (who is a doctor in Shenzhen) bring an IV to the house and hook up my grandmother. Luckily my grandmother recovered from that.
I'm pissed because I feel like this was a waste. My grandmother lived through all the shit that China put her through in the last century, period of warlordism in the 20's, the Nationalists and the Japanese invasion in the 30's, the Communists in the 40's and 50's and then all that additional shit like famines, Great Leap Forward, Cultural Revolution, etc. She had 7 children. She and her husband (and 1st son) WALKED to Hong Kong during the Cultural Revolution because there was no food or work in the village. My grandfather worked as coolie on the docks for a while and then they fucking WALKED back to our village. This village is about 350 kilometers from Hong Kong. She survived all of this against the odds and now she's dead because her stupid fatalistic son wouldn't get off his ass to try to do anything about it.
I was so upset when I got the news from my mom that I went and cried in the ladies room, which was a mini-fatwa in itself because the cleaning lady was mopping the floor and had blocked off the door. There wasn't anywhere else for me to cry on our floor, however, so I just barged in and sat in the 1st stall that has a nice, roomy feel and let it out. The cleaning lady gave me a really dirty look, too. But, come on, lady, it's business hours! Please don't block off the bathroom when there's a time that people will come in! I know she comes in early; I've seen her in there around 7am so she could have done it then. For the first time, though, I was glad that South Africa is obsessed with those European-style toilet rooms, not stalls, You can totally block off from the world in there.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
How Do You Spell Indian Buffet? "R-O-L-A-I-D-S" or How I Got "Chamberlain'd" into a Stomach Ache
Today, the esteemed members of my partnership decided that it was time to bypass the putrid swill in our dining hall (seriously, we get the LOWEST quality ARAMARK caf service; I know its the lowest because I just reviewed our P&L distributions this year. A little research by my main man google, and voila, ARAMARK pricing and we are bottom-fucking-tier) and sail away from the friendly Irish shores of our favorite pub Mollie's. Needless to stay, I fully supported a little adventuring and was pretty excited to see what other culinary delights are hidden amongst the financial institutions, shoe-shine locales and men's clothing stores that dominate Midtown Manhattan.
As we met to decide our locale I should have noticed the storm gathering; specifically the Indian monsoon that was abrewin'. Led by Abhishek "Naan" Sud, the idea of hitting the Indian Buffet was quickly proffered and accepted by everyone -- everyone except yours truly. Let me start by saying this: Indian food is delicious and I thoroughly enjoy it. I do not, however, enjoy Indian food when it has been sitting and coagulating in a metal tray for many hours (how they feed so many people on the sub-continent without leading the world in antacid technology, I do not know). And today, I believe we reached record levels of oozing and discoloration. I'm a team player, so I went ahead and delved into this contemptible mess. Let me tell you, it was as bad as I thought it would be, maybe even a bit worse.
The end result of this ridiculousness: I spent an entire afternoon with stomach churn that was about 10x what Ginger got from her ill timed gastronomic backflips in her last post. What really fucking "grinds my gears," to steal a line from a GREAT Family Guy episode, was that this little foray into that shitbox was PREVENTABLE. Abhishek is Inidan and his wife is Indian. This fucktard eats Indian EVERY-GODDAMN-DAY. And yet, he feels like we do not support his ethnic food of choice because we like to go to a chill bar right by us when we go out and he won't get over it. You know what? THAT'S FUCKING LIFE. We have had the same ongoing debate about cricket as well; it's a pussy sport and he needs to accept that but until the world has kow-tow'd to the greatness that is Indian culture, it won't be enough. Putting that aside, we have also been to this place before, IT SUCKS DONKEY DICK. We all knew it, but because there is nothing else and everyone decided to get their Neville Chamberlain on (because he will whine and whine and whine), we got stuck going there.
There will be no next time for this guy. As Eric Cartman was once so fond of saying: "Fuck you guys, I'm going home..." That is the only response to the stupidity that I am dealing with. By the way, my stomach settled down, finally, at about 4am. Thanks Indian Buffet, you're shittiness may only be surpassed by my desire to burn you to the ground (though the coagulated trays of food are probably a great fire retardant).
Portion Control
For dinner last night my dad and I had some sweet and sour pork with rice. The pork was already made, so I cooked up 2 cups of rice for the two of us. Usually this is enough to feed the both of us with a little left over. Our rice cooker here in SA is really basic, the pot purports to be nonstick but that's a pretty big lie--the rice sticks to the cooking pot like nobody's business. My dad is trying to combat a way to get the rice to stick less (adding more water, adding less water, turning it off immediately after the cycle is complete, etc) but no luck. So, tonight he decides that we should just eat all the rice in one go!
I heat up his pork and serve him some rice and then go to heat up mine in the microwave. He goes back to the pot and serves himself some more rice and has really an obscene amount on his plate. When my pork is done heating, there's just enough rice in the pot to serve me about 1/2 a place of rice, just in the center. That is a perfect amount for me, so I don't have a problem with it. I sit down at the table and my dad says, "Oh, do you not have enough rice? I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you hadn't taken any yet. Here, have some of mine!" I explain that this is a perfect amount of rice and that I don't need any of his, but he does have an awful lot on there. He won't let up and keeps trying to give me rice. Now, my parents have been overfeeding me rice for a long time. They simply don't understand that I am no longer 15 years old and on a swim team wherein I exercise heavily for 2.5 hours every day. My metabolism has slowed some and I just don't eat a huge 10" dinner plate HEAPED full of food for dinner. I like to fill my plate more with veggies and meats with a SIDE of rice to get some carbs. And yet, every time I am home with my parents, they emphasize how I need to eat MORE. It's very frustrating. My dad then goes on to lecture me about how rice isn't fattening. Which, technically, is true, but we're not eating brown rice, which helps you burn fat, which I would totally devour in large portions additionally for the fiber benefit. I just don't want a giant amount of white rice for Christ's sake!
The next morning we are driving to work and my stomach feels crappy. It feels like a combination of hunger, cramps and just general upset-tummy feelings. I'm pretty quiet and my dad is concerned about me. Finally I admit that my stomach isn't feeling so good and I might be really hungry. Of course he has to shoot back with, "I told you you should have eaten more rice last night." This of course turns into me snapping back that the rice have nothing to do with my current condition and that he needs to leave it alone. How fricking ridiculous, I stuffed my face with sweet and sour pork AND two squares of chili chocolate for dessert PLUS a spoonful of honey as a post-dessert dessert around 10pm. Clearly not eating enough was not the problem last night!
I got to work and relieved the problem by visiting the bathroom -- sometimes you just have to go in the morning [sorry to describe bathroom activities but I just want to make it clear that this wasn't HUNGER, it was needing to go #2. If you're grossed out by that, you need to read the book Everybody Poops. It's true. Everybody poops. Even girls. The general unwillingness of women in this country to discuss their bowel movements might be worthy of its own fatwa, in fact.].
I'm so sick of my parents trying to behave like I'm still some teenager who doesn't know her own body. I've lived away from home since high school and I think I know how much to eat and what to eat a hell of a lot better than they do.
I heat up his pork and serve him some rice and then go to heat up mine in the microwave. He goes back to the pot and serves himself some more rice and has really an obscene amount on his plate. When my pork is done heating, there's just enough rice in the pot to serve me about 1/2 a place of rice, just in the center. That is a perfect amount for me, so I don't have a problem with it. I sit down at the table and my dad says, "Oh, do you not have enough rice? I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you hadn't taken any yet. Here, have some of mine!" I explain that this is a perfect amount of rice and that I don't need any of his, but he does have an awful lot on there. He won't let up and keeps trying to give me rice. Now, my parents have been overfeeding me rice for a long time. They simply don't understand that I am no longer 15 years old and on a swim team wherein I exercise heavily for 2.5 hours every day. My metabolism has slowed some and I just don't eat a huge 10" dinner plate HEAPED full of food for dinner. I like to fill my plate more with veggies and meats with a SIDE of rice to get some carbs. And yet, every time I am home with my parents, they emphasize how I need to eat MORE. It's very frustrating. My dad then goes on to lecture me about how rice isn't fattening. Which, technically, is true, but we're not eating brown rice, which helps you burn fat, which I would totally devour in large portions additionally for the fiber benefit. I just don't want a giant amount of white rice for Christ's sake!
The next morning we are driving to work and my stomach feels crappy. It feels like a combination of hunger, cramps and just general upset-tummy feelings. I'm pretty quiet and my dad is concerned about me. Finally I admit that my stomach isn't feeling so good and I might be really hungry. Of course he has to shoot back with, "I told you you should have eaten more rice last night." This of course turns into me snapping back that the rice have nothing to do with my current condition and that he needs to leave it alone. How fricking ridiculous, I stuffed my face with sweet and sour pork AND two squares of chili chocolate for dessert PLUS a spoonful of honey as a post-dessert dessert around 10pm. Clearly not eating enough was not the problem last night!
I got to work and relieved the problem by visiting the bathroom -- sometimes you just have to go in the morning [sorry to describe bathroom activities but I just want to make it clear that this wasn't HUNGER, it was needing to go #2. If you're grossed out by that, you need to read the book Everybody Poops. It's true. Everybody poops. Even girls. The general unwillingness of women in this country to discuss their bowel movements might be worthy of its own fatwa, in fact.].
I'm so sick of my parents trying to behave like I'm still some teenager who doesn't know her own body. I've lived away from home since high school and I think I know how much to eat and what to eat a hell of a lot better than they do.
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