If moving was a person, I'd give it the finger*

Ever since I was 18, I've moved at least once a year, every single year. That means I have packed up stuff, moved stuff from Old Residence to New Residence, unpacked stuff and attempted to decorate New Residence with said stuff. When I first moved to Chicago, all I had was 2 suitcases, a box, and a Tweety head pillow (that's right...a pillow in the shape of Tweety's head. Got a problem with that, punk?!?). Six years later (despite having lost my Tweety head pillow somewhere in Indiana), I have accumulated way too much crap.

So now it's time to move again. ::Sigh::

I've mostly avoided packing for the last couple of weekends because of my re-discovery of a favorite childhood hobby: napping. Since the beginning of college until a couple of months ago, my naps taken could probably be counted on two hands, I shit thee not. Apparently, I'm regressing into childhood because I waste away perfectly lovely weekend afternoons dozing on my couch or my bed. Each time, I wake up, look around my messy, stuff-filled room, think "Wow, I have a lot of crap to pack...a LOT of crap!", and then roll over to nap for another hour.

Besides my recent napping addiction, I guess it doesn't really help that I actually keep accumulating books (I finally got the Ben Franklin biography by Walter Isaacson! Yesss...I am a dork!). Oh, and the fact that I'm very attached to some of my, er, unnecessary possessions is not making the process any easier (Q: Do I really need a Hello Kitty teacup alarm clock, or a Hello Kitty tissue box cover? A: Yes.). My only consolation this time around is that there is some sort of permanency about moving - my worldly possessions will be at my parents' house in Jersey. Technically, I can just keep my stuff there for the rest of my life. I just have to make sure that they don't sell their house...ever.

If the moving process was personified into some human form, I would seriously flip the bird to that mofo...or maybe just do it behind his/her back in my typically passive aggressive manner. Hee. OK, as demonstrated by the paragraphs above, I know that my hatred of moving is mostly a result of my being a lazy packrat bastard, but I'm banking on a little sympathy from others here! Anybody? Anybody?!?

Is there any abstract or inanimate object/process that you would lay the smackdown to? After moving, I vote laundry and German Dativ.

Damn you, moving, laundry and Dativ. DAMN YOU.



* I realize that this post violates my original pledge that I would not use this forum as an opportunity to complain, but I plead a little sympathy for the devil here. Does anyone really like moving?!?

60th anniversary of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki Atomic Bombs

As you probably know, there are quite a few 60th anniversaries this year for the end of World War II. Two important dates are August 6th and August 9th, when Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed, respectively, in 1945.

Yeah, I'm a little slow.

The link below is a Worldview interview with Katsuji Yoshida, a Nagasaki bomb survivor. Pretty amazing.

Nagasaki: A Survivor's Story

Even with all the recent hub bub about nuclear proliferation (i.e., Iran, North Korea), I am hesitant to engage in any sort of academic polemic about the subject. Not only because I'd be bad at it, but also because - in many ways - it deeply cheapens the experience of people like Mr. Yoshida. Sometimes it's best just to listen, contemplate, and challenge your own views.

The superhuman speaks American!

I went to the travel clinic today in preparation for my trips abroad. Inoculations galore! At this very moment, I've got bits of yellow fever, hepatitis A, and typhoid floating in my blood. Next week, I'm getting injected with some tetanus and polio. Seriously, besides the fact that I have more needle holes in my arms than a heroin addict, I feel superhuman! Hmm, I suppose you may argue that heroin also makes one feel superhuman, if only momentarily. Anyhoo, my system can now (supposedly) resist any disease that the developing world can throw at me!! Well, almost. I did decide to pass on the rabies and meningitis shots.

Speaking of my travels, (I hope that) the second stop in the "International Hello" Tour is China (as in "People's Republic of", since some people out there may believe there is more than one China. ::Ahem:: No comment.). I am currently in the process of arranging a 5-6 month teaching gig at a not-for-profit school in the city of Nanchang. Yeah, where the f*ck is that? Jiangxi Province, my friends - in the southeast, between Hunan and Fujian Provinces (the latter being birthplace of my dad and a major source of illegal Chinese immigration abroad. Wheee!)

I have been to the "Motherland" before: I studied Mandarin Chinese in Beijing for 2 months (and promptly forgot a majority of it within 2 weeks) and traveled a bit around the country when I was 19 years old and too stupid to fully appreciate the experience. This time around, I figured it might be fun to go someplace different, like the South, since my moms and pops both have Southern ancestry. And, ya know, maybe appreciate a slice of Chinese life more this time (I'm really working on the self-actualization part of Maslow's pyramid, people). Actually, I'm psyched about it, because I've always heard that Jiangxi, Fujian, and Hunan are kind of the Chinese equivalents of Missisippi, Alabama and Arkansas. I am always thoroughly amused by the fact that my family roots are essentially of the Dixie-country bumpkin variety. Tee hee! Once I actually convince people that I am American, I also know people will be thoroughly confused on why I am there.* I mean, what self-respecting foreigner really visits America wanting to live in Arkansas for any extended period of time (no offense, Bill Clinton and Mike Huckabee)?

Anyhoo, I figure that Little Rock/Tuscaloosa-esque type cities might be more in need of native English speakers than Beijing or Shanghai. They are super keen on getting teachers, however inexperienced (::cough::me!::cough), as long as they have a North American accent, or, as I like to say, "speak American." I mean, the Canadians can slide by OK, but no one can slam it down like the USA, yo! The school where I am hoping to teach specifically prepares college kids to go abroad, so I may be the exclusive source of Western culture for these kids. Scary! I am sure that I'll be quite the freak: the huaqiao (an ethnic Chinese raised overseas) girl who can't quite speak Mandarin, but speaks perfect American English and is distinctly chubby (thanks, American fast food!). Like that fact that my blood is the biological equivalent of an armored tank against disease isn't enough to freak some of them out.

In any case, I hope that my teaching experience is as amusing (but not quite disturbingly kancho-style) as this:

Outpostnine.com: I am a Japanese School Teacher

Hilarious!


* YuhChic Interacts with Native Chinese Peeps

(in Mandarin)

(After some extended conversation)

Native Chinese: Ah, your Chinese sounds a little weird! Where are you from?
Me: Guess.
NC: Er, Hong Kong?
Me: Nope.
NC: Um, Korea? [ed. note: DUDE, it's my round face...everyone and their mom in China thinks I'm friggin' Korean]
Me: Sorry.

(NC guesses EVERY SINGLE COUNTRY in Asia)

NC: (shakes head) I cannot guess. Where are you from?
Me: America.
NC: No!
Me: Yes!
NC: No! It is not possible!
Me: Yes!
NC: NO WAY!
Me: YES WAY!
NC: (pauses) So why the hell did you want to come here?

I've actually had this conversation several times when I last traveled in China.

Planning begins for the "International Hello" tour (plus random celebrity sighting)

I did it. I bought my ticket to Ghana, which will officially be the first stop in my year of wanderlust, otherwise known as the YuhChic "International Hello" tour. Right now, the plan is that I will be in Ghana for two months. Er, now I just have to plan what I'm actually doing there. The ticket is nonrefundable, so I guess I better figure it out.

Holy crap! I'm going to Africa!!!

In addition to all the stuff I have to do in preparation for the trip (ya know...visa, vaccinations, malaria medicine, etc.), I'll also be spending the remainder of my time in Chicago setting up the rest of my stops on the International Hello tour (China and Guatemala...maybe somewhere else?).

On a completely different note, I went to the Wicker Park Summer Fest today and had a celebrity sighting: Vince Vaughn. He is very tall and was sipping a drink from a pineapple. This is up there with me tripping over Sandra Bullock's dogs in May.