How Hard Is It?

Image comes from here, a Chinese Roommates tumblr which is cracking me right up though sadly doesn't seem to have had a new post in a while.
 
The same stupid thing happened in our house in the same week. The first time this idiotic incidence occurred, it severely irked me. But twice in one freaking week? I'm mega-irked now.

We buy imported milk here. Always have. Even Jeremy doesn't want to drink the Chinese milk since you never can be sure what's up with it. Plus, imported just tastes better. Of the imports, we purchase what is on sale. Sometimes it's from Australia. Other times, it's from Germany. And sometimes, like this time, it's from Italy. The milk is shelf-stable until opened, at which point, it must be refrigerated. We usually keep unopened ones in the fridge too so that they are nice and cold when needed.

The first time this happened this week, we left the milk on the table for Jeremy, as he usually requests us to. He uses it shortly after we leave since he doesn't have to go to work until after we've gone. Normally, Jeremy is good about putting the milk back. Annoying as it is, I can forgive one slip of the brain in forgetting to return the milk to the fridge. What reignites the rage inside of me though is that MIL is here ALL day with the baby. And she leaves it out on the table. Because. Because she's a fucking halfwit. I mean, really!

But still, I tried to forgive her too. I sent Jeremy a stern message via WeChat and he promised he'd be more careful. And as for MIL? I snarled at her in Chinese to put milk in the refrigerator. I figured they'd both pay more attention after that.

You'd think so, wouldn't you?

But of course, men are idiots who do stupid things so it is no surprise my husband found himself in a rush and forgot to put the milk away when he was done with it. And MIL is a total moron, so should I be surprised that when I came home today, our lovely Italian milk was STILL sitting on the table? No, I shouldn't be. Just like she shouldn't be surprised when I get angry at her lack of attention to detail. Or anything, really.

At least I can find solace in the fact that we're leaving in 2 months and after that, it will be a long while before MIL can ruin our dairy products. WOOHOO!

What I Hate Most Of All

There is something out there that I truly from the depths of my soul hate beyond all other things. Even more than MIL and her cooking. Actually, way more than her. I absolutely have no tolerance whatsoever for people who steal.

If you read this post, you know I'm a little steamed at Jeremy for losing his Samsung phone. Husbands are your unofficial children and that is why I'm forever reminding him (he calls it nagging) not to forget this or that. Too bad I wasn't with him as he ran around doing work-related errands yesterday because while out, he left his phone somewhere.

At least he remembered after the fact and tried to go back to retrieve it. Only some asshole took it. There were cameras around this building but the guard there wouldn't do anything without Jeremy going to the police. So he went to the police who said this wasn't a big issue and to tell the guard at the building to review the surveillance footage. The guard then said he wouldn't review the footage until the police came. But when they finally reviewed the footage, the cameras trained on the area Jeremy had been were broken. Of course. I think the guard took it but that's my personal belief.

Police here are notoriously useless as well, making my utter disdain for this country even greater. Yes, I'm aware people steal in my home country, but here, no one does anyfuckingthing about it. Now my husband is sad, and quite frankly, so am I. We had photos of Seoul on there that he hadn't downloaded yet. He had songs on there he loved. And now it's gone, partly because he's careless (he got a big lecture about that one) and partly because some dishonest pig took something that didn't belong to them.

Let me tell you about something that happened to me about 6 years ago...

I was unemployed for the most part, only able to get freelance writing gigs which didn't pay the bills. I had to collect unemployment on top of that and still, things were rough. I needed money. My life sucked. One night, I went to the drive-thru ATM for my bank (Wachovia which is now Wells Fargo) near my Miami apartment. There was an SUV in front of me. I waited my turn and when the SUV left, I rolled up. I started to lean out the window to slide my card into the machine and that's when I noticed the person in the SUV had left their card in the machine. And, they were still logged in with their pin which meant I could have withdrawn money from that card. As hard as times were for me, there was no way I could ever steal from somebody. I know you're probably thinking only an idiot would steal in front of surveillance cameras but even if there were no cameras, I'd have done the same thing I did.

Which was lean on the horn, flash my lights and yell to the person in the SUV, who was now driving away. Either they didn't notice my attempts to stop them or, because it was night, perhaps they were afraid. So, I removed the person's card and put mine in, made my transaction and then took my card and drove to a nearby parking space. The person's bank card was also through Wachovia so I called the toll free number on the back to report it.

It only took a few minutes out of my life to handle that and the woman I spoke to at the call center was so happy to get a call like mine. She told me that most of the time, it's a bad outcome. She was so happy that someone was doing the right thing. How could someone NOT do the right thing, I wondered. I did what I would want someone to do for me if I'd left my card behind. I wish everyone looked after each other in this way. But sadly, it happens back home, in China and everywhere in between. How very sad that people can be so greedy with no regard for others.

I hope whoever took my husband's phone from where he left it gets heaps of rotten luck. I really truly do. You are the lowest of the low, complete garbage, for taking what's not yours and I hope it comes back to bite you in your ass.

Another Reason To Hate The People Upstairs

Back in May, I complained about our new upstairs neighbors. Maybe I should be happy that this unit is finally not being rented out to groups of noisy, filthy and rude migrant workers. That is a plus but this couple is maddeningly annoying. How so? Because since May, they have been randomly remodeling their apartment with no rhyme or reason. Or notice. Every time my husband has spoken to them about the noise, they promise they'll be finished by the next day.

But they never are. And this has been going on SINCE MAY. On Sunday, they were making an insane amount of construction-related noise and Jeremy went to take a look. They were putting hardwood flooring in. Which is funny because all the other noise they made truly sounded like they shattered ceramic tiles, rebuffed the floor, retiled it and then jackhammered that shit out of there. Anyway, they promised on Sunday that this was the end of it all and they would be done that day. Of course they weren't. They kept disturbing the peace through Wednesday.

Today though, it seemed quiet enough. My husband decided to work from home today. He's worried that as we approach the birth of the baby, if he's too far away, he can't help me. He'd been getting sent just outside the city on 2-hour drives lately and he requested due to our situation to stay close to home. So it was nice having him home even though we had to let him work. For lunch, Jeremy sweetly went and cooked for us. Raelynn was busy watching a new TV show she's gone crazy for on Nickelodeon, Peppa Pig. I have to admit it's kind of cute, plus, she's so hooked on it that it buys us 30 minutes of peace.

I took this opportunity to sneak away and check my email. Suddenly, the satellite went out, which isn't anything too unusual. It seems to happen more during this time of year than in the colder months. It's annoying but usually pops back up rather quickly. Raelynn begins screaming and crying for Peppa Pig so Jeremy goes to check out what's up with the TV. It's then that I notice that our WiFi has completely flatlined. And that's spooky because that NEVER happens.

Thinking it perhaps a fluke, I restart my computer. But it still has no connection. The WiFi is gone! Still cooking, Jeremy returns to the kitchen while I console Raelynn and try to explain to her that we have to call the internet people to help us. It takes a while but she finally chills out and I'm able to distract her with old Dora episodes on the iPad.

After lunch, Jeremy calls the internet company and after several back and forth phone calls, we finally get a service guy who comes right out to see what the problem is. We'd of course done all the usual things - restart everything, unplug and then replug the WiFi box - and were still not connected. The most troubling thing of all was that the WiFi box was blinking away like it usually does but we weren't able to connect to anything.

We began to suspect that the people upstairs might have something to do with it.

And wouldn't you know, they likely did? Though from the looks of it, the service guy felt it was probably accidental. This has happened to us 2 other times before but the other 2 times, someone deliberately sabotaged the line in the stairwell. This time, the service guy said it looked like someone snagged something on it and pulled it apart. With these idiots going up and down and up and down with all their remodeling tools, I'm not surprised this happened at all. Just annoyed.

Here's the piece the guy gave to Jeremy that came off our wiring. It was all mangled so he just cut it off and replaced everything.

Thanks, idiots. At least we were spared a visit from the true village idiots today. MIL's sister was meeting her at their hillbilly house out at Laoshan Mountain. Good for her. She should be busy doing things for herself instead of meddling. I can't even imagine being forced to go out there right now though...they don't have A/C in that home. I was uncomfortable when we went and it was September. Imagine how sucky and hot it is there in July! Ugh!

In any event, we're hoping the buttheads upstairs will watch out with their shit in the stairs and not fuck up our cables again. Or begin another remodeling project. This pregnant lady can only take so much you know.

The Great Buttinsky

My husband managed to escape work earlier this evening. We were enjoying our lives as a family of 3, soon to be a family of 4. I began cooking dinner, making dirty rice (thanks to a box of Zattarain's my mom sent), some Old Bay seasoned shrimp and home fries. And then, IT knocked at the door.

Sigh.

I seriously thought we went over this. Didn't we? We did. I was told she wouldn't come every night, but here she is coming every night. And she wonders why I'm unhappy to see her standing there, wearing the same outfit she's worn now for 3 days straight. And for the 3rd consecutive day, she makes the same bland mush for my child. Raelynn is 3. She's not an infant. She can feed herself and she likes chewing her food. Ugh.

My husband senses I'm angry about this. Darn right I'm angry. I'm sick and tired of this. I live here. I'm pregnant. I've agreed to my in-laws coming over every other day. Why isn't what we agreed to being respected? And now, he yells at me, rudely in Chinese I might add, so that I don't fully understand what he's said but that fat cow does. Thank you. Because the doctor said I needed to be eating more food for the baby but now I've completely lost my appetite thanks to both of you.

There's arguing and my husband walks out. I slam the door to our bedroom but not before telling MIL this is all her fault. I hope she's thrilled she's caused us to quarrel yet again. Soon, I hear the door open and close. I think my husband has come home from stomping around the block but no. MIL has left. So I go sit with my daughter, the only one of us with any sense in this family, who hugs her mommy and tells me not to be sad. I clean up the plates from dinner and soon, the door opens again. Both MIL and Jeremy are back. But he's still angry with me. He asks me what I said to her so I told him what I'd said. It's not like I called her a fucking shitbrained fuckwad (which I really wanted to call her) but he's still furious with me. On and on he hollers and I realize that my feelings are absolutely not important here. How could they be? No, I'm just the 9-month pregnant person who desperately wanted a break from certain people interfering in her life and now I'm being manipulated into thinking I'm an asshole because I've asked and asked and asked AND ASKED. And to no avail.

The Great Buttinsky strikes again, manipulating everything in her favor. Oh poor me. I'm an old lady who just wanted to see my grandchild and take care of my daughter-in-law. Please. Save it. I don't buy it but your son is easily charmed by your bullshit. Go ahead and play dumber-than-usual when your son yells at me because YOU interfered again and he doesn't want to hurt your feelings because you're old.

So now I'm stuck with these fuckheaded asshats coming over each evening and all I can do is pray that the processing on my husband's visa goes very quickly so we can move far away from these deranged loons.

How Rude!

Our 3-day weekend began with the ending of our Sports Day/Economic Fair event which my students' parents were all invited to attend. Because the parents were all around, I didn't have to look after my students. I only had to look after my child.

It was a particularly hot day so after checking out the lame selection at the booths, Raelynn and I stayed in the A/C. She wanted to play in her classroom so I sat there with her, laughing, playing and just enjoying her cuteness until it was time to get on the buses to go home. Many of the other moms left early with their children, as was there right. And some waited for the buses to ride home with their kids.

Before it was time to leave, I made sure Raelynn picked up all the toys she'd been playing with. I helped her put them away so that her teacher wouldn't be left with a giant mess. So imagine my surprise when I come in to work today after our 3-day weekend to find my classroom to be a big mess. There are toys out on the mat. Not a huge pile of blocks or anything but just little odds and ends. Someone obviously did a half-assed job of cleaning up in there. The bookcases were a disaster too. I was absolutely appalled that the parents would think nothing of letting their kids play and read and then leaving a mess for me and Christina to clean up. Seriously? How fucking rude! I'm 8 months pregnant and I picked up toys WITH my kid. What the heck is wrong with you people?!? Christina was disappointed as well. She had no idea the room had been left a mess when we went home on Friday.

These parents should be ashamed of themselves. I now understand exactly why this batch of students is my worst group ever. Their parents don't care enough to teach them how to behave properly or to study English. I'm a teacher, not a miracle worker. My students in all previous years were never like this. Then again, when their parents came to the school for an event, they picked up after themselves and their children.

Coming up this Friday, we'll be having our English Village event and the parents will again come to participate with their children. Christina had asked me if I could go over the dialogues we sent home for practice with the students. I was a little annoyed since I never had to do that in all the 3 years we've been hosting this event. We always sent these things home and the parents were always responsible for helping their kids understand. But not this group. I asked my kids who had been practicing and only 7 out of 20 raised their hands. It truly explains so much about this group.

The children are not our future. Not this classroom of them at any rate.

How Metro Lost Our Business

I've talked about Metro many times before. It's a German-owned Costco-like store. I've complained about how stupid the employees are there. Actually, I also complained about them in this post too. And let's not forget that Metro came in at number 3 on my countdown of Qingdao's worst bathrooms. Well today, we can forget all about ever shopping at Metro again. Because they don't want our business.

Like Costco back home, you need to have a membership to Metro. Which we have. When we first moved to Qingdao in late 2010, my husband's family included us in the membership. I was so happy because it is just a few minutes from our home and has tons of imported items. But as I've mentioned in previous posts, the employees tend to suck and the bathrooms are heinous. Still, we've been shopping there regularly since we've been living here. Until today that is.

Today is Duanwu's Holiday. Which has something to do with dragon boats and zong zi. So we had off work.

That's a zong zi, by the way. I don't care for them but my husband and Raelynn love them. It's rice with assorted fillings steamed inside of banana leaves. Sometimes they use jujubes inside with the rice and other times it's meat. I've tried both and I'm just not a fan.
 
We had wanted to go to Metro yesterday but after going to the doctor to check on the baby and discovering my salt intake was off the charts, we were caught in a torrential downpour. Plus Raelynn had fallen asleep in the car. We decided to just go home and head to Metro later. Of course, everyone else decided to go to Metro today too. But now as we entered, we were made to line up and write down our membership number. The guy in front of us, incidentally, was shaving with an electric razor. Jeremy and I were so stunned we couldn't even figure how to nonchalantly photograph him. Now I've DEFINITELY seen it all.

The line was being held up by an incredibly stupid family. And the line backed up more. And more. And we thought, fuck this. We left and decided to go to another supermarket. We sat in the car for about 10 minutes, trying to decide which one. Carrefour would also be crowded, particularly the location we like on Hong Kong Road. It's so much more foreigner-friendly over there and has a much better selection of imports than the Carrefour that's closest to our home. We discussed this back and forth, trying to figure out what option was the least aggravating. Jeremy then decided to run into the Metro one last time to see if that daunting line had finally cleared away. A few minutes later, he came back to the car.

He tells us there's no more Metro for us. Metro, quite stupidly I might add, has decided to only keep memberships for businesses. They don't want to allow any more family memberships. They offered us the chance to shop one last time today, but we were so angry, we refused. Fine, Metro. You don't want our money? We'll shop elsewhere. We were not the only family turned away today and I suspect those families were rather pissed as well. Some of them, Jeremy had said, were complaining that they'd come from much further away than us only to be turned away. How absolutely infuriating for those people.

My husband says Metro came to Qingdao about 10 years ago. They had only opened up to sell to businesses. Only problem was that they built it and no one came. They had so few customers so they decided to expand their business by granting memberships to families as well. And thus, Metro became successful in Qingdao. But now for whatever idiotic reason, they've decided to go back to only hosting business memberships. Be that way then, Metro. You won't last another 10 years in this town without those family memberships.

Even though we were bummed out, we decided to go to the Aeon, a Japanese-owned supermarket formerly known as Jusco, in the Wanda Plaza mall. There are several Aeon locations in Qingdao, but if you've lived here for a few years like us, you can't help but refer to it as Jusco. It's just what all of us know it as.

We were pleasantly surprised to discover how uncrowded it was. And the staff was friendly and helpful! Imagine that! The prices were mostly fair there too. And there were so many more things to choose from. The bakery was hands-down 100 times better than Metro's. They actually had real frosted donuts. Metro would occasionally have unfrosted donuts that tasted like crap. These donuts, I must admit, I did not have high hopes for but we decided to try them out. And they were great! While in the bakery, I saw a woman with what looked like a spinach tortilla wrap sandwich. I had to find it. As we ventured back into the ready-made deli area, there it was by a huge selection of sushi (which I had to ignore because, hello, pregnant here...no sushi for this girl). The wrap was filled with vegetables and chicken. I never could have found anything like that at Metro.

The verdict? My wrap rocked! Jeremy got some Chinese potato bread thing that I normally find just so-so. Here it was incredibly delicious. We were so pleased with the outcome of our supermarket adventure that, sorry Metro, we just won't be needing you anymore. Go ahead and beg for us back but honestly, as someone who majored in marketing, that was the absolute stupidest business move you could possibly make, even after 10 years of establishing yourself in this market. Congratulations on your impeding failure.

The Y Chromosome Strikes Again!

Yesterday, my husband had a business dinner meeting and I wound up having a pleasant meal with MIL. I KNOW! After she left, I got Raelynn ready for bed and then set off to relax and shower. At around 9:30pm, when Raelynn was sound asleep, I heard the key in the door. I went to greet my husband and what I found was a totally drunken mess loping through the door, dress shirt unbuttoned under his suit jacket, brandishing an umbrella like a tiki torch as he boisterously greeted me.

I sighed heavily, knowing the rest of my night was going to severely suck. I should tell you though that it's not often that Jeremy drinks like this. It's part of the culture in both Korea and China to drink while you eat at a business dinner and it can be considered quite rude to refuse a drink. So if you want your business to go well, genbei as they say here (which is Chinese for "cheers" and basically means you should drain your entire glass in one gulp).

Jeremy's college experience was different than mine. During those years of my life, I eventually learned how to handle my booze. Once, on a date with a guy I really liked, I had eaten a bowl of Chunky New England Clam Chowder so I wouldn't be hungry when we went out drinking and dancing at a club. FYI: the upchuck factor on soup is a 20 on a scale of 1-10. But being young and dumb I didn't know this and hence, made quite the ass out of myself. I've come a long way since then.

So my husband can't drink the way I can. Well, the way that I can when I'm not pregnant that is. At least he was smart enough not to drive. He took a taxi home which was a relief. I was so happy he came home alive. Now, my challenge was to make sure he stayed that way.

See, Jeremy is a back sleeper. He LOVES to sleep on his back. I'm more a side sleeper, which is good news for me while pregnant because after the 1st trimester, you can't sleep on your back anymore. My husband snores so loudly that I need earplugs in order to block out the sound. And some nights, I can STILL hear him snoring away.

I tried to get him to drink some water and some green tea but he passed out cold on our bed. On his back. And soon, I heard this horrible gurgling. He was going to puke. I dragged him to the bathroom and tried hurrying away before the sounds of splattering vomit caused me to join in. He staggered out, like some half-dead zombie and curled up on the floor. I brought a bucket from the bathroom, normally used for laundry purposes, to put beside him. He snored away on his side for a few minutes and then sprang up gagging. He ran toward me and tried to open the window to barf out there. Drunk people! Gah! I quickly locked all our windows, now terrified he'd lean out of them to far and fall to his death.

In college, one of my best friends was a girl named Tara (may she rest in peace) who would drink herself into oblivion constantly. One night, she actually walked outside of our townhouse and tried to open the door of someone's Cadillac because she thought it was the bathroom. It was funny then.

But now, this kind of shit isn't funny, I think as I pat his back while he hurls some more. It's then I'm reminded of my wedding vows and try as hard as I can to be supportive and helpful, even though I am tired and, being pregnant, seriously want to throw up myself from the stench of vomitty-alcohol permeating our room.

In total, I emptied out the laundry bucket 5 times. Despite placing it in front of him, he still spit up a bit on the floor. He even threw up on a sock (it was his sock at least). At one point, he lay on his back and started to choke on the vomit and I cannot even believe I was able to move so quickly and roll him onto his side. I sat up much of the night, watching, helping, praying. And once I was sure he was not going to die from falling out a window or choking on his puke, I finally put in my earplugs.

Since our bathroom is right by Raelynn's room, she woke up to the retching sounds and cried, scared of the monster-like noises she heard. So now, I had her in our bed, snuggled right up to me, and a totally zonked out, husband that reeked of boozey, barfy disgustingness. I was so angry and so tired. Somehow, I managed to get some sleep but I still felt like hell today. In the morning light, lectured my husband and then gave him some ideas on how he could make this all up to me. Jewelry. A nice dinner. A massage. He'll be working this debt off for a bit, which I blame on that y chromosome. You remember what happened the last time, right? Sigh. Men! Between you and me though, as long as he never pulls this shit again, that'll be even better than diamond earrings. Though I'll still take him up on a fancy meal. This mama needs some spoilin'!

RIP Tomato And Eggplant Deliciousness

After a nice day of shopping with my husband, I had looked forward to making a very simple dinner out of leftovers in our refrigerator. The other day, I'd made homemade tomato sauce and served it with fried eggplant and rosemary flatbread (also homemade). It was almost like a cheese-less pizza. It was incredibly delicious.

Unfortunately, I did not know then that MIL would dispose of this - the only thing she's ever thrown out of our refrigerator, incidentally - and shove in about 40 baozi, or steamed stuffed buns. Which I fucking hate. They are so bready to me. While her dumplings are usually pretty good, depending on the filling, I can almost surely bet the farm every time that the baozi will taste like they are stuffed with shit and farts.

What an insipid old troll! Sure, I have tomatoes and eggplant in the fridge but by the time I discovered she'd tossed my prepared dish, it was too late to whip up more. I needed to get dinner on the table before Raelynn went nuts. So thanks again, MIL. You also broke my kitchen gloves with your goat hooves, filling them with water in the process. So much fun to have little mini-swimming pools on my fucking hands you know. Next time you come over, I will throw out your food in front of you and see how you like it. Oh and Raelynn wouldn't eat your baozi either. She did, however, eat my ham and cheese sandwich. So there.

Flies: The Return

I couldn't resist using this image from one of my favorite Simpsons Halloween Episodes.


If this sounds like the title to some stupid movie, you're only half right. It's not a movie but it is plain old stupidity brought into my house by none other than MIL. Of course, you're not surprised. She was the reason we had a fly problem 2 summers ago.

Today, when I came home for work, 5 - yes FIVE - large flies were flying in erratic circles around my bedroom. There's nothing to draw them in there though I suspect because the sun beams through those windows in the afternoon, they thought they were trying to get out. I immediately lunged for the bug spray under the kitchen sink, while MIL looks on in utter confusion. I tell her there are flies in the house and dart back into the bedroom.

Soon, I've sprayed them all dead. One of them was as hard to kill as Stripe, the most evil of the Gremlins. He must have been the fly leader.

After bringing the flies to their doom, I put the spray back under the kitchen sink and I ask MIL why there were flies in my house. She stares at me like I've asked her to compute nuclear physics off the top of her head. And she just stares. I'm sorry but how do you not notice you've let 5 flies into someone's house? Would you leave them there or would you get rid of them? If you're MIL, you let them have a fucking party. Why not put out some fruit for those little fuckers to munch on while you're at it? That hideous, stupid zombie. And let's even play devil's advocate here. Let's say the old gal didn't realize there were FIVE FUCKING LARGE FLIES zooming about our small apartment. Why wouldn't she say anything at all? I bet she summoned them to make me crazy as payback for the "mysterious" disappearance of her stained mini-troll dress. I should have sprayed her instead.

Teacher Unappreciation Day

Yesterday was Teacher Appreciation Day at school. I'd been looking forward to it since last year's Teacher Appreciation Day was so wonderful. I truly felt special and appreciated that day. But this year was very different. And not in a good way.

If you take a moment to check out my post from last year in the link above, you'll read about all the lovely gifts I received from my students and you'll see photos of the best part - the cards they all wrote for me. Don't be lazy...go! Plus, the Engrish on the cards is awesome.

Did you see that?

Well, this year, I have more students. 20. Most of them are very bright though very few of them are what you'd consider even remotely well-behaved. Out of 20, five gave me gifts. One gave me a set of flavored Lancome lip glosses and a sweet card. Another gave me a giant box of Maxim coffee and some Korean crackers, but no card. One gave me some very nice BB cream foundation that feels like silk on my skin and a card. Another gave me L'Occitane shower gel and lotion. And one gave me a nice fruit cup mix for snack, complete with toothpick for spearing each piece. So yes, of 5 gifts, only 2 with cards.

This year, our room mothers came to teach one of my classes for me. I am busy with all kinds of crap for our upcoming English Village day of hell so the extra 40 minutes of freedom was a nice blessing. When I came to get the kids for lunch, I found they'd made us flower bouquets...out of play dough. Maybe I should smile and say it's the thought that counts. But they were wonky-looking flowers. And I can't take them home. Raelynn will destroy them. So now I have this ugly basket of fake play dough flowers by my desk. They also brought in a giant cake with milk boxes for the kids and some coffee for us teachers. That's right. Instead of making us feel special, they brought us a cake we had to share with the children. I'm not trying to be ungrateful here, and I certainly don't want to come across as someone who just wants lots of gifts or anything, but I found this very depressing. I didn't feel special. Instead of being appreciated, I (and the other teachers as well) were now stuck serving cake to a bunch of screaming and hyperactive children. It was made worse by the fact that another set of parents came in with ice cream FOR THE KIDS. Hello?!? It's Teacher's Day. We already had Children's Day.

I was just astounded by the lack of appreciation. And I'm not so much complaining about the lack of gifts. Of course gifts are nice! Who wouldn't be fucking happy getting presents?!? But it's the lack of cards I find most appalling. Why couldn't the parents have their kids write a short and sweet note to me? Or even to the Korean teacher. I could tell she was disappointed too. Here's a day to celebrate us and all our hard work and we're barely even acknowledged by the parents and students. The school at least gave us a nice treat with a small cash bonus, which was the highlight of my day.

When Raelynn goes off to school, I will make sure that her teachers feel appreciated. If you have kids, wherever you are in this world, I hope you make your child/children's teachers feel special.

I'm not just an ESL kindergarten teacher. I'm a police officer, enforcing our rules and keeping my kids safe. I'm a referee when the children disagree, trying to help them work out their problems together and teaching them important life skills about how to get along with other people. I'm a nurse when they get a small cut or bug bite, lovingly bandaging them up and sending them on their way. I'm an example of etiquette, teaching my kids how to have good manners in and out of the classroom. I'm a comedian that makes that laugh as I do different voices when I read them stories. I'm a dance instructor who prepares them for their graduation performance. I'm MacGyver, fixing their broken hair clips and Pokemon toys.

And I'm so many more things than this. I do it with love, I really do. But in return, I wish to be loved and appreciated too, and for teachers like me, even a small hand-written card will do. It will do just perfectly.

Now She's Really Done It

Dear GOD. That stupid woman has done it. She's broken the Baby Bjorn. She somehow broke the metal frame. How the fuck did she do that? Maybe with her crazy, moldy, rat-like fake teeth? Who knows?!? All I know is that my former worst fears have become a reality.

8pm. Bedtime for Raelynn. I scoop her up and take her to her bedroom. I put her in her Baby Bjorn chair, give her a pacifier and read her a bedtime story. But something seems off about the chair, I notice. The lights are off in her room but it's lit up enough from the lights outside of it. The chair seems awfully low to the ground. I figure she's been getting bigger so maybe I should use one of the higher settings. I take her out and adjust the chair. But when I put her back in, it reclines so far that it's almost completely touching the floor again. I inspected the chair and that's when I discovered that stupid old troll had somehow snapped the metal frame.

I yelled for Jeremy who attempted to repair it with tape. It didn't hold. As I seethed with anger, I now had to rock Raelynn completely to sleep without the chair to help ease the weight from my arms and back. I told my husband how angry I was about this and that I at least expected an apology from his mother. I'm furious because I have begged and begged him to remind his parents to take care of our things and be careful to no avail. Maybe I should go to their house and break things and see how they fucking like it. But then again, we've seen how they live so I'm not sure how much good that will do. They should fucking replace it but you know they won't because they're old as Jeremy says. His fucking excuse for everyfuckingthing they ever do. "They're old!" His mom puts the knives back with the blade up. "She's old!" My FIL makes a mess and doesn't clean it up. "He's old!" You know, chronologically, my father is older but you'll never hear my brother or I (or even my father himself) blame his age for something he does. I love my husband dearly but I am getting beyond sick and tired of hearing him defend their blatant stupidity and ignorance with his sorry blanket excuse of oldness. THAT is what's getting old.

Of course, I'm sure she'll have another golden excuse of her own. Just like when she blamed the stroller. Hey, maybe she will blame the stroller for this too.  Yes, that's it. The stroller broke the chair. Maybe the stroller will have a heart and retaliate against her as well. Go stroller, go!

A Plague Of Cucumbers To Replace The Flies

 Oh God forgive me because I have really been trying to be nice to MIL. I put on my big, fat fake smile when she comes in and I try to just pretend I've had a frontal lobotomy so I can be on her level. And I dig my nails into my legs in an effort to keep myself from digging them into her neck. I really have been trying but I truly from the depths of my soul despise this woman. Is it her annoying voice? Is it that putting her in charge of my baby is frightening because she has absolutely no sense at all? Is it that she is just dismally dumb as can be? Is it that she puts the channel on the TV to the most annoying one of all, with horrible Chinese music that even my husband makes fun of? It's probably a bit of everything. Add to it a pinch of resentment too since I have changed everything about myself to live over here. And that old bat won't even try to use the cookbook that I bought for her.

I detest her cooking as much as I detest her overall. She makes a few dishes well like steamed clams, a garlicky cucumber salad and a tasty whole fish sauteed in some sort of sauce that is miraculously not soy sauce (because everything else she makes is just covered with the stuff). I have to be honest and say I'm sticking to my theory that maybe she's slowing down mentally because when I first came here, she wasn't this horrible in the kitchen. Or she wants us all to die from her terrible culinary concoctions so she can hog my beautiful baby to herself. Cow.

Yesterday, I thought I was going to starve to death. For lunch, she made this fish dish (not the good one) with small fish. I hate small fish. This is the kind of fish I'd use to catch a big fish. So to me, this is bait. It smells and it has so many bones that you do more spitting than eating. She knows I hate this but she made it for her son (who, for some unknown reason, likes it). Or perhaps she's not as stupidly innocent as she appears. She also made another dish I can't stand. It has this rubbery pork in it (she never buys good cuts of meat) with green beans and potatoes. And of course is topped in salty soy sauce. She makes this all the time and every time, I refuse to eat it (though if I am hungry enough, I pick all the potatoes out and leave the rest because whatever she does to the green beans makes them taste just plain awful). I took one look at this crap and went back into our bedroom. My husband coaxed me out of the room to at least eat some rice and said she was making another dish for me. Unfortunately for my rumbling stomach, that was a fail too. She cooked up shrimp WITH CUCUMBERS. I love cucumbers but I hate them cooked. They taste terrible that way. I picked a few shrimp out, ate my rice and left the table.

I should stop here to explain that MIL grows some of her own vegetables. And it's lovely of her to bring some of this harvest to our home. But she brings a ridiculous amount of the same things. I've been busy making different eggplant dishes, baking potatoes, mashing potatoes and creatively cooking potatoes; and looking for new cucumber salad-type recipes. The eggplant and potatoes I can cook up easily and finish off. It's this mess of cucumbers that is doing me in.

And after much ado, we finally have the fly problem under control too. Xiaolong bought a spray in case we see any more of them. I still blame MIL for this problem even though my husband thinks it was his fault for not taking out the trash right away. He's done that before and we never had any flies in here. She's also to blame for hindering our efforts by putting peaches out on the table. FLIES LIKE FRUIT, YOU IDIOT! Augh! I had to collect those up, wash them and stick them back in the refrigerator. And then there was that rag I use to wipe our counters that I'd thrown after I saw them all piled up on it. She did something to it. Now I know what. Today, a new rag (same color) waited in the spot where the previous one was. This rag, as is widely known by my husband and BOTH his parents, is just for wiping up excess water on the counters and those sorts of things. It's relatively clean (or it should be which is why after she shows up each time, I try to remember to toss it in the laundry so we're not wiping something gross onto our surfaces) but it's not something you'd want to touch with clean hands. And today, I see her trolltastic self wash her hands and then dry them on this rag!!! O.M.G. Seriously. Something is wrong with this woman, truly.

But now that the fly problem is under wraps, we have a new plague. Of cucumbers. There are. SO. MANY. CUCUMBERS. The old troll made us lunch today and thankfully, she made clams (which I eat) and she also made her garlicky cucumber salad thing (which I also eat but I am getting tired of having it every single fucking day). And then she made us some cooked cucumber dish seasoned with soy sauce. I didn't take photos because my husband was in no mood to field my complaints today so just imagine very soggy, brownish cucumbers that tasted like how farts smell. As if this wasn't nasty enough, she had to outdo herself with an even more barfy dish also using cucumbers! It's as if she imagined herself to be competing on Iron Chef. Only they would totally never use cucumbers as the secret ingredient. And even if they did, they'd make something good. But she could never be on that show because she sucks at cooking. It would be fun to watch the judges tear her apart though.

Anyway, this next cucumber dish was a soup with egg and cucumber and it was so bad it tasted to me like how it smells when your house floods and the carpets get wet. Yes, that nasty-farty-carpet smell. So our lunch was essentially clams and cucumbers. You know it's bad too when my husband tells her he didn't like it. I would like to point out that we had many other things in our house to make. As I mentioned, we have plenty of potatoes and eggplant in this house too. It boggles my mind how many cucumbers she must have used because there were 3 dishes chock full of them and there are about 10 in our refrigerator now (which I put there because her brainless ass had them on the counter to beckon the flies with). I am hoping that she'll stay away for a few days and we can perhaps donate this excessive supply of cucumbers to our neighbors. But I'm sure when she shows up again, she'll come toting a bag of cucumbers and more ways to disgrace their naturally good taste.