.
Monday, May 11, 2009
mother's day
I really appreciate my family. It's great to see how everybody has helped each other grow and learn, regardless of if they are/aren't aware of it. Every time I talk to my brother he seems more mature and even though he has always been incredibly intelligent on some higher plain of ethics and living, he recently has become more aware of what he realistically needs to do to survive on his own and is suddenly with more motivation to carry it out. I think the latter is the most important change I've seen in him in the past year or so. I suppose some of this is due to his girlfriend of two years, whose presence has helped him value things outside of his head or his game. I guess my family has also taught me the benefits of compromise, as I've always been hard-headed in my knowledge gained from my learned/lived experiences. I've had to learn considerable patience from my mother's lack of memory, one that she has been blaming on Alzheimer's since 40. I've had to learn to overlook things for the sake of harmony, things that can never be figured out, or aren't worth my time to try for--which is hard for a mind that doesn't quit. I really value my family. I think they all try to be the best people they can be, and even thought we all have our individual faults, we all also try our best to be understanding of each other. I think this is the most important thing a cooperative family can do. Love is not enough, there's a bit of work required.
¶ 5/11/2009 12:31:00 PM 0 Comments
Sunday, April 12, 2009
煎饼 Jian Bing, a love story
So one day I was gchatting with one of my favorite buddies, cool breakfast. As per usue, we began slowly about things like sweet youtubes of kittens licking foxes when we somehow transgressed into Chinese street food. Chinese street food. I cannot believe that i've never given y'all the down low up high on this fascinating subject. After an hour of lustful descriptions, Adam suggested that I write about this on my blog, and I agree.
So today I'm going to hopefully kick-off a long succession of blog entries about China's "small eats 小吃" by featuring my favorite of all eats: the 2.5元 Jian Bing.
The Jian Bing is supposedly from Shangdong province, but I've had it or seen it in almost every province I've visited. When I lived in Kunming I would have it in the back alleyway of the Kunming Minority University near the train tracks. I've heard a classmate say that they had it almost every day while studying in Beijing. Right now I'm typing this from a lame cafe and just writing about Jian Bing makes me salivate and wish that I would have snagged one before coming here to consume a twelve kuai ($1.50) two egg and toast breakfast. Alas. The great thing about Jian Bing is that each area reduplicates it to fit it's own region's taste pallet. I think it has become a Chinese treat without a home. So what makes a Jian Bing?
Okay, wait. We have to go through the first three bases before we get to the real loving. Foreplay and witnessing moments of extreme non-violent excruciation are probably in my top five list. So let me begin by taking you through my morning. First, I wake up and I think 煎饼. Then I look at my watch to calculate what type of morning it will be--Jian Bing before class or Jian Bing after first period. Most of the time it is the latter because from under the sheets I usually see 8:25 on my timepiece, and at that point I still have to get dressed, find those books and pens and room key, put knotted hair into a pony tail, and somehow get to class on time--8:30. I never do the last part right, but during first period all I can think about is break.
In class our desks are shaped in a horseshoe with the inner-belly of the U facing towards the door. Our classroom can hardly accommodate a U or as many people as we have managed to fit, so when "下课 xiake" comes I throw/slide my desk forward into the other stem of the U so that I may have the fastest gettaway. On the back street I race through hordes of small babies with crotchless pants, the fat middle-aged shanghainese lady who only plays cards and shouts simple english phrases at you, and the old people out in masses for their too leisurely morning stroll. Four minutes later, my Jian Bing woman is in reach, but only barely. She's usually got a few other fans keeping me from realizing my reality quickly. I stand there and wait as one, two, and sometimes three Jian Bings are made before I am able for mine. My sweet, salty, spicy, hot, crunchy, soft Jian Bing.
When that time finally arrives, I usually say "one egg 一个鸡蛋." She takes the bottle with a punctured hole in the cap and turns it upside down so water droplets hit the stop of the cylindrical steel stove and instantaneously vaporize into thick smoke, which keeps the crowd back or her food clean. She uses a brush made of sticks to scrape the flat, steel, foot-point-five in diameter griddle clean. She then dips into a plastic tub full of what looks like pancake batter with a huge ladle. She pours the batter onto the top in one sweeping clockwise motion while using its bottom to spread it about evenly and no more than a few millimeters thick. The her helper--she usually has her father or son assist her--will crack an egg on top. In my case, it is always one egg unless I'm starving and she will quickly break its yolk and slide it about, covering and strengthening the thin layer of now crispy wheatstuff.
She then asks you if you'd like cilantro, so you say yes 要。She asks about the green onions, and that's also a yes 要. After you pipe in "i want it all 都要都可以”, because at this point the smell is actually in your brain and chemically you just can't contain your self or your speech. Her male helper switches to the adding of the seasonings on his side of the trolley and asks about the spicy pepper, and you try to say "i want a bit more 辣更一点" then what you've already given me, but you are completely verbally impaired at this point and all you manage is "i want a whole lot 我要很多." So you end up with two heaping spoonfuls of spicy pepper, and it always turns out so [explicative] good. He puts on the spoonful of chopped pickled garlic. which they also sell for a pretty penny by the jar, the whole clove version, at the Pike's Place Market in Seattle. They then fold this creation in half and put mysterious brown goop onto the folded side. It tastes slightly of molasses, peanuts, and good. The last, but oh-so necessary part, is the rectangular-shaped extra crunch. The only thing i can say to explain it is that its consistency kind of resembles a pork rind. It doesn't taste like anything, but soaks up all of the flavors of the spices. It is purely for texture, and a Jian Bing with out it, isn't a 煎饼. ¶ 4/12/2009 10:22:00 AM 1 Comments
So today I'm going to hopefully kick-off a long succession of blog entries about China's "small eats 小吃" by featuring my favorite of all eats: the 2.5元 Jian Bing.
The Jian Bing is supposedly from Shangdong province, but I've had it or seen it in almost every province I've visited. When I lived in Kunming I would have it in the back alleyway of the Kunming Minority University near the train tracks. I've heard a classmate say that they had it almost every day while studying in Beijing. Right now I'm typing this from a lame cafe and just writing about Jian Bing makes me salivate and wish that I would have snagged one before coming here to consume a twelve kuai ($1.50) two egg and toast breakfast. Alas. The great thing about Jian Bing is that each area reduplicates it to fit it's own region's taste pallet. I think it has become a Chinese treat without a home. So what makes a Jian Bing?Okay, wait. We have to go through the first three bases before we get to the real loving. Foreplay and witnessing moments of extreme non-violent excruciation are probably in my top five list. So let me begin by taking you through my morning. First, I wake up and I think 煎饼. Then I look at my watch to calculate what type of morning it will be--Jian Bing before class or Jian Bing after first period. Most of the time it is the latter because from under the sheets I usually see 8:25 on my timepiece, and at that point I still have to get dressed, find those books and pens and room key, put knotted hair into a pony tail, and somehow get to class on time--8:30. I never do the last part right, but during first period all I can think about is break.
In class our desks are shaped in a horseshoe with the inner-belly of the U facing towards the door. Our classroom can hardly accommodate a U or as many people as we have managed to fit, so when "下课 xiake" comes I throw/slide my desk forward into the other stem of the U so that I may have the fastest gettaway. On the back street I race through hordes of small babies with crotchless pants, the fat middle-aged shanghainese lady who only plays cards and shouts simple english phrases at you, and the old people out in masses for their too leisurely morning stroll. Four minutes later, my Jian Bing woman is in reach, but only barely. She's usually got a few other fans keeping me from realizing my reality quickly. I stand there and wait as one, two, and sometimes three Jian Bings are made before I am able for mine. My sweet, salty, spicy, hot, crunchy, soft Jian Bing.
When that time finally arrives, I usually say "one egg 一个鸡蛋." She takes the bottle with a punctured hole in the cap and turns it upside down so water droplets hit the stop of the cylindrical steel stove and instantaneously vaporize into thick smoke, which keeps the crowd back or her food clean. She uses a brush made of sticks to scrape the flat, steel, foot-point-five in diameter griddle clean. She then dips into a plastic tub full of what looks like pancake batter with a huge ladle. She pours the batter onto the top in one sweeping clockwise motion while using its bottom to spread it about evenly and no more than a few millimeters thick. The her helper--she usually has her father or son assist her--will crack an egg on top. In my case, it is always one egg unless I'm starving and she will quickly break its yolk and slide it about, covering and strengthening the thin layer of now crispy wheatstuff.
She then asks you if you'd like cilantro, so you say yes 要。She asks about the green onions, and that's also a yes 要. After you pipe in "i want it all 都要都可以”, because at this point the smell is actually in your brain and chemically you just can't contain your self or your speech. Her male helper switches to the adding of the seasonings on his side of the trolley and asks about the spicy pepper, and you try to say "i want a bit more 辣更一点" then what you've already given me, but you are completely verbally impaired at this point and all you manage is "i want a whole lot 我要很多." So you end up with two heaping spoonfuls of spicy pepper, and it always turns out so [explicative] good. He puts on the spoonful of chopped pickled garlic. which they also sell for a pretty penny by the jar, the whole clove version, at the Pike's Place Market in Seattle. They then fold this creation in half and put mysterious brown goop onto the folded side. It tastes slightly of molasses, peanuts, and good. The last, but oh-so necessary part, is the rectangular-shaped extra crunch. The only thing i can say to explain it is that its consistency kind of resembles a pork rind. It doesn't taste like anything, but soaks up all of the flavors of the spices. It is purely for texture, and a Jian Bing with out it, isn't a 煎饼. ¶ 4/12/2009 10:22:00 AM 1 Comments
Sunday, April 5, 2009
gay news. so gay, man
so if anybody wasn't already paying attention, this week was positive for (HIV, damn!) glbt equality.
the bible belt iowan supreme court has ruled that a ban on gay marriage is unconstitutional and gays iowan and non--as they don't require proof of residency--will be able as soon as three weeks to legally wed.
the pop-country band rascal flatts, whom texans adore, has released a song with "non-gender-specific lyrics" called love who you love. in response to the southern gay heyday over this song--cause you know no one north of mason-dixon cares--rascal flatts replied that they were pleased dat dem hoemoesexshuals find it so inspiring.
of course, they weren't all pflag about it, just tolerant, as they don't want to pull a dixie chicks. got to be smart business men, too.
the bible belt iowan supreme court has ruled that a ban on gay marriage is unconstitutional and gays iowan and non--as they don't require proof of residency--will be able as soon as three weeks to legally wed.
the pop-country band rascal flatts, whom texans adore, has released a song with "non-gender-specific lyrics" called love who you love. in response to the southern gay heyday over this song--cause you know no one north of mason-dixon cares--rascal flatts replied that they were pleased dat dem hoemoesexshuals find it so inspiring.
of course, they weren't all pflag about it, just tolerant, as they don't want to pull a dixie chicks. got to be smart business men, too.
Labels: gay, love, news, shock
¶ 4/05/2009 07:57:00 PM 0 Comments
Friday, April 3, 2009
vulvic
vulvic vul·vic adjective
of, relating to, or resembling a vulva
================================================================
i don't like that penis has phallus and vulva is without what is hers respectively. technically phallus could refer to the clit, but that is only the clit; what about the centuries of vulvic imagery out there?
www.vulvic.com
new project. check back in a few weeks for a more elaborate site which will include links, mission statement, goals, etc.
Labels: love, new, she's got ideas, vulvic
¶ 4/03/2009 12:20:00 AM 1 Comments
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
feelin' lucky human
so for spring break we have an entire week off. i was pretty sure that i was going to stay in shanghai until a regular google search of different phrasings of "mannequin" produced me with an alarming number of photos involving a chinese mannequin factory. although the most prestigious mannequin brands are all european produced--adel rootstein, hindsgaul, patina v, to name a few--china is the leading producer in amount. this chinese mannequin factory is located three hours by light train in a city known as the commodity center of china. as well as being the world's leading producer in costume jewelery (really amazing), a nickname of 'sock city' is in order for they produce 3 billion pairs each year for foreign companies like walmart.
anyways, you know where i have to go for spring break. gotta get them mannequin connections. TOTAL dream chiner job. i hope mom gives up the idea of me choosing a career path.
anyways, you know where i have to go for spring break. gotta get them mannequin connections. TOTAL dream chiner job. i hope mom gives up the idea of me choosing a career path.
Labels: i n t o the future, love, mannequin, she's got ideas
¶ 2/24/2009 09:52:00 PM 0 Comments
Friday, November 28, 2008
oh. i almost forgot...
a picture post!
all of these are from my roommate's twenty-first birthday (and her camera). we had to do something special because here we've seen six year-olds buying booze. special means luxuries from home that are luxurious and decadent or that are very difficult to procure. this is REAL french red-wine, cheese that isn't carrot-flavored, crackers, and imported dark chocolate. also throw in some toffee and chocolate-covered macadamia nuts a classmate's mom sent.
i don't know how i always luck out with the best roommates.
the evening begins with a fine italian tiramisu made out of sliced white bread, powdered cocoa, and whipped cream.
this is the same naked female cake from above that i assembled from various cheaps around town. paper, gluttonous rice cakes, and some strange strawberry jam vagina cake--the seed of all my perverted ideas--that i really don't know what to call other than vagina cake. okay, vulva cake. roast beef...
if everyday you talk about the "vagina cake" that you see in the neighborhood bakery window nobody else wants to try it but you.
but i can make you admire it...
so b-day cake is only a little bit prepubescent. blue cheese at armpit o'clock.
so some talking happens at parties.
and after a little bit of wine, a brave soul finally steps up to the cake...
a mammogramy also happens.
and then the bed is vanquished for its platform. dancin' platform!
some modeling shots happen.
ones with water cooler shrines...
ones in the laundry room...
and on it's floor...
birthday girl is really happy by this point. goal complete.
morning after.
a picture post!
all of these are from my roommate's twenty-first birthday (and her camera). we had to do something special because here we've seen six year-olds buying booze. special means luxuries from home that are luxurious and decadent or that are very difficult to procure. this is REAL french red-wine, cheese that isn't carrot-flavored, crackers, and imported dark chocolate. also throw in some toffee and chocolate-covered macadamia nuts a classmate's mom sent.
i don't know how i always luck out with the best roommates.
the evening begins with a fine italian tiramisu made out of sliced white bread, powdered cocoa, and whipped cream.
this is the same naked female cake from above that i assembled from various cheaps around town. paper, gluttonous rice cakes, and some strange strawberry jam vagina cake--the seed of all my perverted ideas--that i really don't know what to call other than vagina cake. okay, vulva cake. roast beef...
if everyday you talk about the "vagina cake" that you see in the neighborhood bakery window nobody else wants to try it but you.
but i can make you admire it...
so b-day cake is only a little bit prepubescent. blue cheese at armpit o'clock.
so some talking happens at parties.
and after a little bit of wine, a brave soul finally steps up to the cake...
a mammogramy also happens.
and then the bed is vanquished for its platform. dancin' platform!
some modeling shots happen.
ones with water cooler shrines...
ones in the laundry room...
and on it's floor...
birthday girl is really happy by this point. goal complete.
morning after.
Labels: china, hen hao wanr, love, pictures lots, shouldn't be posting this
¶ 11/28/2008 07:46:00 PM 2 Comments
