Watch your step

When visiting a foreign country with a foreign language, it is generally recommended to learn a few local phrases as a common courtesy. I like to learn the regulars - please, thank you, washroom, where is this helicopter going?, what hospital are you taking me to?, yadda, yadda and a couple extra useless phrases since you never know when a useless phrase will come in handy.

So here is a useless / useful? phrase you can use when in China (spelled the way it sounds in my head):

Sho shing jia shiao (say it in a real soft, whispery voice).*

Translation: watch your step.

I learned that one early on in the Beijing and Qingdao airports. Elevators, escalators, moving sidewalks. All are concerned about the placement of your feet.

So. If you tuck away foreign phrases in your memory banks, feel free to add this one. You never know. You might get a chance to use it.

*I'm not sure about the Cantonese / Mandarin thing. We were in a Mandarin-speaking part of China, but a Cantonese-speaking friend of mine told me what it meant and how to say it.

You can leave your hat on

I would like to start to recount my journeys in China, but to begin, I must start a few days before the trip.

My mother, sister and I went to a local production of The Full Monty - a musical version based on the British movie of the same name. Both the play and the movie tell the story of a group of men - underdogs - who are out of work, down on their luck and having a rough go at life.

They realize the answer to all their problems - to become male strippers. They may not have the same qualities as your average, run-of-the-mill male stripper but they do have something else to offer - they are willing to go The Full Monty.

It was totally awesome! ps- The title is suitable, but it was definitely theatre (insert snobby boarding school accent here), not some seedy club show. The show was tasteful. We try not to dwell on any moments that were... tastefully theatrical.

Anyway, that isn't the real story, just the intro. A couple of days after seeing the show, my sister and I are in the mall. We get separated. When we bump into one another again, she is blushing.

"I saw one of the actors from the show, and I talked to him," she says.

She had taken the playbill from her purse the night before, but I still have mine. We look for him to get his signature, but he is gone. Or hiding. Clearly, it isn't meant to be.

Fast forward a couple of days to me in the middle of the airport, searching for my passport so I can get on the plane (suitcases open, underwear on display). The people in line (in front of me, behind me, inching past my open suitcase to get past me) look familiar. I realize I am surrounded by the cast of The Full Monty. Everyone is there but the main character.

Of course, I took the playbill out of my purse the night before.

I feel like I should be brave like my sister and tell someone I liked the show. But who do you tell? The closest person? That might be weird since I am rummaging around in my suitcase. Should I tell all of them or just a few people and let them spread the message? I wouldn't want to hurt someone's feelings by not including one of them. Perhaps I could just run around high-fiving them all.

Meanwhile, through these ruminations, I find my passport and we board the plane. I decide to forgo complimenting the actors as I have since realized it is early in the morning and they are also busy finding passports, hugging loved ones, buying coffee. An awkward high five from me is probably not necessary at the moment.

We board the plane.

Yes, the cast and I are also to share an airplane.

One of them is sitting directly across the aisle from me (small plane, 2 seats on either side of the teeny, tiny aisle). As far as I can stereotypically tell, he is dressed like an actor not hiding from his public (silk vest and scarf, nice shoes as opposed to paper bag over head or sunglasses). Okay, I wonder, now should I talk to this guy?

We are instructed to put on our seat-belts. The plane takes off. The drink cart goes by. Snacks. Should I talk to this guy? He dozes off to sleep. His foot is sticking out in the aisle. The flight attendant walks by and trips over it. They apologize to one another.

Okay, he's awake now. Should I try to talk to this guy? He gets up. Goes to the washroom. Okay, I'll wait five minutes, then say good job. It's not polite to say good job to someone as they walk out of the bathroom.

Apparently, he has placed his carry-on on the over-head bin on my side of the plane. He stands close to rummage around in it.

I stare at my book.

Blushing.

This guy is much too close (it's a small plane. He's not a creep).

I can't talk to him now. What am I supposed to say? "I didn't recognize you until now, but great show the other night."

Clearly, I would not say that, but my blush would.

Finally, I decide there are people in LA who can walk past Drew Barrymore without batting an eye. I am going to mind my own business and let these people get on with their day. I clapped the other night - Good Enough.

We get off the plane. Just us passengers here. My stress refocuses on completing the next twenty+ steps required before my journey is completed.

***

Fast forward again, this time three weeks. I have written this post, but have not actually posted it yet. I am walking around campus at lunch. I see this guy. He looks familiar. Of course he does. It's the main character from The Full Monty sitting on the grass. Eating a sandwich. Should I go say hi?

Quote of the Day:

"Good Grief"

- Charlie Brown (Charles M. Schultz)

I'm Baaaaack (well, 87% back)

Well, my dear friends. My colleagues and I have returned from China, bringing with us our newly acquired slew of parasites and ailments.

Actually, I have been back for over a week, but it has been a weak week. Until now, the only possible blog post for me would have looked something along the lines of:

I R Sick (followed by accounts of my doctor-visiting adventures).

or

Water. Water. Bring Water.

Anyway, I'd say I'm back up to 87%. I have regained my appetite and shake like a Chihuahua every time I eat (I lost a million lbs, totally messing with my Shape-Ups experiment - Don't worry, I plan to gain them back asap in the form of milkshakes. MMmmmmmmm milkshakes).

So On With The Show

This is not China-related, but it was the moment where I realized I was well enough to rejoin the ranks of humans (or whatever ranks I used to be in):

My friend had a party (I told her I wouldn't blog about it (I only blog about parties where I fail to socialize) - I'm blogging anyway).

So. My friend had a party. She lives with her fiance and a new(er) roomate.

We were outside eating watermelon (ok. I was eating all the watermelon. Chihuahua-style) and I noticed a cute little garden in the yard. My friend's fiance is european and an awesome cook, thus I assumed it was his garden.

He's also a little straight laced.

I caught the eye of the new(er) roommate, brought my finger to my lips, whispered, "Shhhhhh," and tossed my watermelon rind in the garden.

She returned the, "Shhhhh," and smiled.

Later that night, I found out it was, in fact, her garden I was tossing watermelon rinds in (yes, rinds. I'm a jerk).

I left early (recuperating people need their rest), but not before ensuring the fire pit and the roof of the neighbor's shed were equally graced with watermelon rinds.

That's right, my friends. It is time to return to writing. The creativity is beginning to flow in a not-so-savory direction.

Do you find yourselves becoming inadvertently (or destructively) creative if you spend too much time away from your creative outlet of choice?

Make a wish

If you the type of person who makes wishes on airplanes, now is your chance.

I have it on good authority that there is one in the sky.

A little birdie has told me Google and its affiliates (including blogger) are inaccessible in China as of May 24th (they used to route through Hong Kong, apparently), so I apologize in advance for allowing my blog to wilt. There are a few prearranged posts coming up but there probably won't be any of the spur-of-the-moment traveling posts I had hoped to make.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

You may have wondered if I had been bit by a zombie, hence my failure to post anything of late.

Your guess would have been close. I'm preparing for a trip to China and any time I try to work on anything resembling a creative outlet, 14 pairs of socks... 14 pairs of socks... takes over my thought waves.

Even as I type this, I'm thinking about the uncharged batteries in my camera.

There are a two things I want to see while I am there:

• A cherry blossom (preferably more that one, but one will do).

• The great wall.

As it is The Year of the Tiger, one of my airplane books will be Marjorie Liu's Tiger Eye. The book is set in China and Marjorie blogs about her trips to China, so it feels appropriate. Feel free to read along with me.

I have to go. I'm on the verge of hyperventilating as my suitcase is totally full and I know I want to bring back a zillion (give or take a few) souvenirs.

Book chatter and shiny, shiny pictures to follow. Any tips from people who have visited China?

Find umbrella... Find umbrella...

The mermaid in the cathedral

This is the Nidaros Cathedral (Nidarosdomen) in Trondheim, Norway. It is a beautiful cathedral with lots of gothic architecture, secret rooms, winding stairways and a great place to look out at the North Sea. This is the view as you enter the room:

It is hard to see, but there is a slightly raised marble platform with six pictures on it (left to right, far to near): a centaur, a dragon, a pig (boar?), a lion, a mermaid holding a mirror and a scorpion.

I was drawn to it, thinking, "What is this doing in a church?" The nave looks very impressive from this photo, but as you walk in the room, the first thing you see is this large altar right in front of you. Once you can stop staring, you live your chin up to look at the ceiling and don't put it down before your neck gets sore.

There is a very old Norse document, called Speculum Regulae, or The King's Mirror that dates back to the 1200's. Part of it gives precise details regarding the physical appearance of mermen and mermaids (merman = hafstramb, mermaid = margygr). It suggests the sighting of such a creature forebodes poor weather in the near future.

I came up with all of these theories about why there would be a mermaid on the altar front. I finally decided it would need to have something to do with Saint Olav (an ancient Norse king from days gone by - there are murals and statues dedicated to him in the cathedral and all over town).

Perhaps Saint Olav was once in love with a mermaid or rescued by one when he fell out of a Viking ship. Maybe there was a whole contingent of mermaids and mermen that were a part of the Viking conquests.

I needed to find out what it meant.

I probably looked too hard, because the altar front is not nearly as old as I thought it would be. The Altar of the Holy Cross was built between 1986-1985 by Wenche Gulbrandsen - I think the marble platform was made by the same artist. There is no explanation I have come across yet. Nor are there any other pictures (photography is not allowed inside the cathedral. This is a scan of a postcard I got in the gift store. Egil Rein took the picture for the postcard.).

So I figure, what the heck? My explanation is as good as anyone else's (except for the real one, I suppose). King Olav loved a viking mermaid who saved his life. Who knew?

Your explanation is also as good as anyone else's. Five mermaid points to anyone who can tell me an explanation for / story of the centaur / dragon / pig / lion / mermaid / scorpion. Ten mermaid points to anyone who can come up with a theory involving all six. It doesn't have to take place in a church or in Norway, for that matter. Let your imagination do what it wants - it will anyway.

I have no idea what the points will add up to. We will worry about that later ;)

Free Comic Book Day: Game On

Its officially here: Free Comic Book Day 2010.

My first taste of it is this morning at 8:10 am. I drive past the comic book store to pick up some scones at the Farmer's Market (ps- These scones will make you believe in miracles). There are three people waiting outside the store. In the rain - a father-son team and a lone wolf.

8:30 Drive-by: 5 people. Two father-son teams and a lone wolf. Go to grocery store for milk.

I want to go by a third time, but figure I am pretty much asking for a car accident by driving around aimlessly, counting people in front of the comic book store.

8:50: Home, eating delicious, delicious scone. (Fun fact: the first time I typed this, I spelled delicious right the first time, misspelled it the second - in this sentence, I misspelled it twice. My hands resist overuse of the word, even if I don't).

9:50: The line is too long to count. Men, women, children. Everyone is excited. People are looking in the big glass window making all sorts of excited noises.

10:01: A loud, "OOoooohh," from the crowd and the line moves forward.

A guy dressed like Wolverine greets us at the door. An artist from Marvel Comics is in the store. Pandemonium abounds. What to choose? What to choose? Options: 1 free comic book or donate $10 to a local charity and take 10. What to choose? What to choose? Aha!

On the way out, the sweet-faced, blue-eyed Wolverine rasps, "Have a nice day," in a voice so scary, I practically jump out the door. I can't wait for next year.

Did anyone else out there attend Free Comic Book Day?

Do / say / write / the hard thing (Part II)

Quote of the Day:

"One day, you will conquer the world, but for now, you don't know how to send a letter."

- My Friend

This is the point I tried to make in last week's post: Its easy to do the easy thing. Its not always easy to do the right thing. For the entire week, I've wanted to retract that statement, but didn't bother since this is also the week I learned you can't erase your RSS feeds on Google Reader. C'est la vie.

I wanted to switch to: Its easy to do the easy thing. Its impossible to do the right thing.

Highlights:

While driving, I saw a girl (my age) run to catch a bus, trip and fall flat on her face. The contents of her purse spilled all over the sidewalk and she missed her bus. I thought, "Here is where you should do something nice," and slowed down. I waited for her to walk up and realized she was walking slow, waiting for me to leave. Okay, city people don't give strangers rides, got it.

I got a letter in the mail - my handwriting. I had sent someone a thank-you letter, only I had put my address in the Send To section of the envelope, not the Return Address section. I appear thankless. Resend.

Today started with me reading Victoria Lynn Schmidt's 45 Master Characters and finding my character archetype (although not a bang-on match) is The Maiden (but I don't Want to be a Maiden. I WANT to be an Amazon!), and ended with me blasting myself in the throat with a spray hose in a barn (think gentler than a pressure washer, but it would beat a garden hose in a fight).

It was coming to where I thought I would just add a, "That's What She Said," in a comment on the title and say I wanted to be naughty. There. Didn't worry about what others thought while paying homage to The Office.

Then it happened:

Mild scolding in a meeting led to me stand up for myself.

Was it exhilarating?

No.

Do I feel shorter?

Yes.

But I stood up for myself. Boy was it hard, but not impossible.

Brunchy food and Easter people

Everyone has a favorite holiday.

Call me Scrooge if you like, but Christmas is definitely not mine. People are cold and tired and overworked (so they are caught up when they return from "holidays") and in search of the elusive "perfect gift" for everyone they hold near and dear while smiling what they hope is an unfrazzled version of what they are feeling. Yes I know, I'm a Scrooge.

I think Easter might be my favorite because it is the exact opposite. Three days of friends and family (punctuated by the occasional road trip) mellowed by warm sun and fresh fruit where forks and fingers are perfectly acceptable to be used interchangeably. Getting started on "spring cleaning" but not feeling the same crunch of a deadline for cleanliness imposed by Christmas. Add liquid carbs made crunchy on the griddle and delicious candies hidden in your gym shoes and you have the perfect weekend. (Thanksgiving is a close second but the traffic is a little crazier and all candy is kept in plain sight).

For me, this weekend was a combination of the sweet and the bittersweet (yes, chocolate is included).

• A trip to "back home" where some people are recognizable, others are vaguely familiar and people will chat but will not use names for fear of saying the wrong one. Babies are kissed, compared and held awkwardly.

• Bike rides. Dog walks. Dog rides. (Two of these happened. You decide which.)

• Lunch in town only to find my favorite Japanese restaurant has gone out of business. (Small towns in Saskatchewan are hard on Japanese restaurants - or any specialty restaurants, for that matter, excluding restaurants where the specialty involves ground beef)

• Lunch at a hamburger-specialized restaurant.

• Fruit cut in finger-sized pieces.

• Time to read. (I can sense a few book reviews on the horizon)

• Time to write.

• Time for homework. (What's a nerd without a little homework)

• A tour of my niece's Bieber wall.

• Being read Dr. Seuss books.

• My sister's homemade olive relish.

• Homemade wine and silly chatter.

With weekends likes this, you can hardly blame me if you catch me saying, "Bah, humbug," next December.

Are there any weekend highlights you would like to share?

Do / say / write / the hard thing

There is a saying: .... well, I can't type it out in any semblance of order, so I'll give you the gist of it: Sometimes we are given choices in life but are not sure which one is the right decision. Chances are, the choice requiring the most difficult undertaking is the answer.

- Not always -

For example, programming your VCR. The most difficult undertaking would involve not reading the manual. The right choice is probably to read the instructions, otherwise don't come crying to me - actually, even if you have read the manual, don't come crying to me. Well... you can come crying, just don't expect me to do anything about it. Technology and I don't mesh well (the force is not strong with this one).

Anyway, here is my point: its easy to do the easy thing. Its not always easy to do the right thing.

They (the same people who use the opening saying I couldn't articulate) say that hard thing, those words you are too shy or polite or stubborn to say out loud are probably what you need to write down.

I am attempting to apply this to not only my story, but everyday life. We only get one chance and one day, I don't want to look back and see all I ever did was the easy thing - My husband would probably argue I make everything difficult ;)

As a kid, I was taught if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. For the most part, I stick to this. However, there are times where logistically, this does not make sense.

So I challenge you: some time in the next week, do that thing you've been putting off, that thing you know won't be easy but you're dying to try (and deep down inside you know you probably should). I'm not sure what my thing will be, but I'll keep you updated. Stop by and share yours if you like.

Enter the lion tamer

It took much leaping and flailing and gnashing of teeth, but my lions (aka horses, but one would not expect horses to be so gnashy) have a new home.

This weekend had a large list of Here is where I went wrong. This is the winner:

Saturday was best marked by an inappropriate choice of underwear. At times, it is nice to know some part of your outfit is adorable, even if no one can see it. I should have considered when cutting stall mats to line the bottom of a horse trailer, a specific bending technique is required (adorable underwear is not). Occasionally this technique allows the display of what should be left unseen. As it was, I ended up looking like a washed-up cabaret dancer with a strange flouf of flamingo-pink ruffle sticking out of my jeans whenever I dropped my guard. Awkward.

But wait, there's more:

Sunday saw one horse successfully trailered - where I come from, trailer is a verb ;) - and one horse determined to resist travel (its not for everyone). Ropes were broken, as were camel backs. A final decision was made and one horse made the journey, the other was left behind.

Safety before pride.

Our new boarder is a fabulous woman with a trailer that makes mine look like a tin can on wheels. She offered to pick up Lion#2. 10 minutes and a little determination was all she needed. My ferocious pal was loaded and on the way to his new home. I have officially dubbed her the Lion Tamer (but I probably won't tell her-I'm not taking any chances of her thinking I'm a weirdo).

You know how it is when you meet a person and just have that good feeling about them? That's her. She even teaches riding lessons!

This should cross the last bit of crazy off my to-do list. Hopefully life will shift into a bit of a slow down for a while.

How about you? Have you ever:

• Worn inappropriate underwear?
• Met a person and thought they were just too good to be true but known/hoped they weren't?

Hit me

I'm out of town so here is a little something I've jacked from my facebook page ;)

Original post date: Sep 22, 2008.

I had a list of things I wanted to do on our trip to Vegas (if you say Las Vegas, people will ask you if its your first time visiting. Saying Vegas is cooler). Some of the things were from my then-bucket list. Some are strictly Vegas-specific:

• See a Vegas wedding. (Didn't happen)

• Convince the happy couple to let my husband and I be witnesses. (Self-explanatory)

• See the Freemont Street Experience. (Pretty cool)

• Say, "Hit me," while gambling. (Still have no idea where this applies)

• Say, "Let it ride while gambling. (This phrase also escapes me)

• Wander through a CSI set. (No dice)

• Meet someone famous. (Actually happened - Alexis Bledel - Gilmore Girls, Hello, MY FAVORITE SHOW!)

• Go up the Eiffel Tower, see the Bellagio water show. (Did both at the same time)

• Have a daiquiri in one of those Eiffel tower drink bottles. (Stood in line for half an hour. Didn't have ID on me. Got my husband to buy it. Because I didn't have ID, the guy wouldn't sell to my husband. Had to go into the Paris casino and skulk around while he waited at the bar (on advice from the street vendor). Never did finish it. Had the world's worst headache the next day. Avoid at all costs!)

• Go to White Castle (have an adventure to do so if necessary). (Didn't go. Another trip to the States will be required for this purpose alone)

• Buy air. (The more I think about it, the shadier it seems - didn't do it, no regrets)

• Pull a crank on a slot machine. (Some of the older machines have cranks, but they don't pull. I suppose they're not fast enough to meet most people's gambling needs)

• Ride on a roller coaster (Did this. My first one. Pretty much forced my husband to go on it with me. As the man behind us yelled, "There's no time to be scared!" - As we crashed around and spun upside-down for no good reason, "Who's idea was this? That's right, it was yours; you big, dumb idiot," which I later shared with my husband. A passerby though I was verbally abusing him. My bad. I clung on so tight, I had bruises on my shoulders and shins. Still can't sleep on my side or cross my ankles)

• See someone being arrested. (While waiting in line to take the bus back to the hotel from Freemont Street, a man jaywalked in front of a cop car. The cop got out, started patting him down, wandered around writing things down, then handcuffed the guy. Thats when the state trooper showed up. There was a minor dispute between the two law-enforcers. Then another cop showed up. We got on the bus. A man asked the bus driver, "So, is it really an $1100 fine for jaywalking?" - The bus driver replied, "Oh yeah, Las Vegas drivers are crazy. We'll kill you," (WE'LL??!!!???), "Its a $200 fine. I hit a guy once. I paid it. He was here, then he was over there. Its your fault if you get run over. $200 is nothing. I paid it.")

• See Elvis. (I walked by him on the street. He was in street clothes, but it was obviously The King)

• See a pimp. (This wasn't on my list but I did see one wandering around a casino. It was either a pimp or Kid Rock. Hard to tell the difference.)

Thats all I can think of for now. Its such a funny city.

What Would Sookie Stackhouse Do?

Sookie Stackhouse is a fictional character in the Sookie Stackhouse series of books created by the marvelous Charlaine Harris, one of which is entitled, Living Dead in Dallas. She runs into trouble, including: vampires, werewolves, shifters, fairies, etc... and still manages to come out on top (or at least alive).

Since my adventures always seem to carry a bit of a disastrous undertone, it is good to have a game plan. Normally, this involves searching online resources regarding the location, buying guide books, talking with friends and family who have visited the location. This adventure, however, was more of the "winging it" variety.

This adventure's game plan went a little different. Long before this trip began, I had already decided to ask myself this question if I ran into trouble in Dallas.

What Would Sookie Stackhouse Do?

As with College Station, we underestimated the size of the city vs the availability of walkable ground.

After arriving at our hotel via paid shuttle, we wandered over to Denny's for supper (I can see the sign through the partially opened crack between the curtains as I sit on my bed).

Feeling overwhelmed by the size of the city, but deciding not to let it get the best of us, we went for a bit of a wander... and DISCOVERED A MEDIEVAL CASTLE!!!! Walking close, we could hear voices. Theatrical, medieval-sounding voices.

Walking closer (and on the grass), we discovered a little fenced area surrounded by vine-covered walls. With a bit of a jump, we could see the horses within the walls. We could also see the gentleman practicing his lines. Yep, the whites of his eyes.

Moving on, we sighted an open side door - revealing a room of long-haired men lifting weights and doing push-ups with their shirts off. "By the Power of Grayskull!" - type men.

Fanning ourselves, we decided it might be a wise choice to visit Medieval Times for supper tomorrow night and continued our walk. We were following another person carrying two grocery bags and something about the situation made me think, If this local feels safe walking over that bridge carrying their groceries, I should feel safe walking behind them.

The person then leaned over the side of the bridge and lifted the bags down. They straightened and the bags were gone. We promptly turned around and walked back to our hotel, googled bus routes to the Dallas World Aquarium and the Bodies Exhibition and prepared for bed.

What would Sookie Stackhouse have done? Probably something else, but I don't have swarms of sexy vampires and shifters to come save the day if I end up in over my head.

Today's question: Has anyone ever been to a Medieval Times performance?

Texas-Sized Adventure

How are y'all doing? I've been in College Station, Texas this last week and I felt the need to bust in on the blog posts I had scheduled to share some of the things I have learned about the city:

• People who wear burnt orange are referred to as, "Tree huggin' hippies." Guess what color my jacket is? Guess who couldn't resist hanging off a tree branch to have her photo taken?

• Don't walk on the grass. Ever. We've been walking around a lot here. Some places don't have any sidewalk so we have to either walk on the road or the grass. People drive on the road. We've been honked at least four times, once when we were walking in a parking lot.

• The university here is Texas A&M. Their school colors are burgundy and white. Almost everyone wears some little bit of Texas A&M clothing. I am pretty sure the ones who appear not to are wearing Texas A&M socks or underwear. Or have it tattooed somewhere on their body.

• The university used to be an all-male military school. They have still retained a cadet corps.

• A dog, Reveille, is the Commander-in-Chief of said corps.

• Everyone is friendly here (and not in a fake way, they are actually friendly). It was raining and we were walking. A stranger offered us a ride (a non-creepy ride). We, of course are shifty out-of-towners and declined.

• For fun, they refer to the University of Texas (UT) as t.u. Guess what their school colors are? If you guessed burnt orange, you would be right.

• BTHO means Beat the Hell Outta', as in BTHO t.u.

• The population of College station is around 50 000 people. Their football stadium can hold over 82 000.

• Geckoes live here, or at least one does. I saw it.

• BBQ is unbelievable here!

• Visiting the George Bush museum is like visiting another planet. One with security guards and metal detectors. Go see it if you get the chance.

• It is a two hour walk from our hotel to the George Bush museum.

• The university owns the airport.

• People say, "Howdy," here. Say it back. You'll feel like a big jerk if you don't. At least I do every time I hesitate on the reply.

• Its raining.

Okay, back to real life. I'll talk with y'all again soon.