ChiKat

When I was a kid, I went trick-or-treating in my neighborhood. I knew which houses to avoid (not because they weren't safe, but because they handed out toothbrushes or apples -- ugh). When I was in my 20's, living in the city, I was too busy going to parties to stay home and hand out candy.

Now that I am in my 30's (read: too boring to attend parties during the week (Ha ha! Note that I said "week" as if my weekends were PACKED with parties!)), I am home on Halloween.

City-dwellers, help me out with Halloween etiquette:
Do you buzz anyone in who screams "trick-or-treat" into the intercom? Do you wait at your condo door or go to the first floor to hand out candy? Do you worry that the kids will knock on every door in the building, making your neighbors detest you for inflicting the joy of Halloween on them? Do you hide in your condo, ignore the doorbell and eat all the candy yourself?

For anything of this to matter, I have to drag myself off the couch and actually buy some candy.

For those of you more prepared and more spirited, Happy Halloween to you.

China was wonderful. Incredible. Amazing. Much more Western than I was expecting. The young people wore all the latest fashions. In the major cities, the street signs were in English and Mandarin. The vendors all spoke a tiny bit of English. Frankly, we heard more English in China than we did when we were in Paris.

The people were warm and welcoming. Several asked to take pictures with me because I was American. I felt like a celebrity. At one point I mentioned that it was such an unusual experience to stand out in the crowd so much. My husband looked at me and said, "As opposed to how much we blend into our neighborhood?" but I pointed out that no one in our neighborhood was taking my photo because they found me so delightful (give me time…once I get the rims on the Golf, everything will change).

The biggest surprise was adjusting to the scale of China. I knew they had a huge population, but it was hard to put that in perspective until we went to a "small" city. Small by Chinese standards is less than 5 MILLION people.

Another perspective: China's one-child policy was put in place to slow population growth. Officials estimate that the policy effectively reduced their population by 300 million. THREE HUNDRED MILLION. The same as the total population of the States. It boggles my mind.

All in all, it was a fabulous trip. We were on the other side of the world, but we were welcomed. After so many months of terrible news across the globe (Afghanistan, Iraq, Darfur), for the first time I felt like we could do this – I felt like we could exist in this world together, peacefully.

China, China, China. We are gone. Our dog is going to be staying with my husband's sister, who has a TWO-WEEK-OLD BABY. Yes, that's how much she loves us. And yes, that's how self-centered we are. We're the type of people who ASK a woman with a two-week-old baby to dog sit.

In my family, I am the oldest. I always plan things, take care of things and remind my brothers to call my parents on birthdays/Mother's Day/Father's Day.

On my husband's side, he's the youngest.

Oh. My. God. It is so EASY being the youngest! We never plan anything! We never have to have an opinion on anything! We are told what to do. Occasionally, we do really irresponsible things, like ask a new mom to dog sit, and HIS SISTERS DON'T MIND. Because apparently, that's what younger siblings do.

I'm gone a week. I might post a few pictures while I am away, but only if the hotel pool is closed. And I'm not meeting "people who are good for my career".

Don't talk to me today – I will probably manage to insult you.

I had the following conversation with my dearest, best, sweetest friend:
Me: "Hey, how's it going!"
Her: "Great! I'm having a great day! My husband brought me breakfast in bed this morning!"
Me: "Really?! Why?"
Her: "Errr...because it's my birthday..."

After forgetting her birthday, I checked my email. My dad had written me to mention that he had arranged for me to meet with someone because it would be good for my career. That meeting will take place in China WHILE I AM ON VACATION. My father does this often, and he doesn't see the problem. He thinks mixing vacation with business is a way to make vacation more productive and interesting. We never see eye to eye on this, so I wrote a nasty email about it to my husband, ranting about my father, and then promptly sent it to my well-meaning father instead of my husband.

I'm not going to answer email or the telephone for the rest of the day. It's the only way to save the remaining relationships that I have.

The rules of driving are different on the north side compared to the south side. The drivers are equally bad, but for different reasons.

On the north side, drivers are bad because their vehicle is bigger and more expensive than yours, therefore you must yield to them out of deference to their elite status.

On the south side, drivers are bad because their vehicle is older and more beat up than yours, therefore you must yield to them because you fear they will not care if they hit you.

I was driving my pregnant body to the store the other day (pickles really are QUITE tasty and worth the drive). In the opposite lane, there was a stalled car. An SUV tried to swerve around the car, into my lane, to pass the stalled car. When the SUV swerved, we were both the same distant from the stalled vehicle. I could have stopped to let him pass the vehicle and then get back into his own lane. But I have been driving on the south side way too long. My car was worth way less than his. So I kept going, not even making eye-contact, still dreaming about pickles. The SUV swerved back into his own lane and waited for me to pass. As I did so, I couldn't help but notice his kicking rims. I probably sound REALLY white calling rims "kicking", but they were fabulous. My husband (who had a death grip on the armrest) and I had the following conversation:

"Do you think we can get rims for the Golf?"

"No. No more driving on the south side for you."

I have known my best friend since high school. She still lives in the town where we grew up, along with several other high school friends.

Of my high school friends, there are two life tracks:

Option A: Fall in love in high school or college. Get married soon after graduation. Have kids in early 20's. Enter early 30's trying to figure out who you are outside of your wife/mother role.

Option B: Fall in love in college or later. Get married in late 20's. Enter early 30's thinking about getting pregnant and the issues that surround pregnancy in your 30's.

My best friend took Option A. She has three kids, LOVES being a mom and has a blissful marriage. But she is just starting to grapple with some identity issues that I had the luxury of dealing with a decade ago when I was childless, ring-less and carefree.

She is handling that transition from new-wife/mother-to-infant to long-time-wife/mother-to-kids (not babies) quite gracefully. That transition is very significant to most women. It has been for generations. We put so much pressure on ourselves to be the "good mother" or the "good wife". When the early challenges are over (starting a family, building a home, etc) and a girl has a chance to breathe, it's pretty common to step back and say, "Who the hell am I outside of all that?"

Of our friends who selected Option A, many of them are getting that chance to breathe. With that fresh breath, they are demanding a divorce*. It seems like so many of the girls who have been married for 5-10 years are dealing with marriages that are unraveling. It makes me sad to see so many girls I knew going through tough times.


* To be clear, I don't think the girls in Option B magically have a better chance at a happy marriage. I just think the Option B girls are at a different point in the bell curve of a marriage.

Sorry for the lack of posts. Life is very eventful right now. My husband's job continues to deteriorate, and he is certain that losing the job is a real possibility. I hate the idea of him being unemployed while I'm pregnant, but considering the stress level of the job, it might be for the best. Regardless, I can't go into details because that's really his story and I try to protect his privacy.

Whenever I sit down to write a blog entry, I want to write about all his job stress, but I keep coming back to the fact that although it overlaps my life, it's his life and he doesn't want his life online.

So I've been without blog entries. Ugh.

In other news, our visas were approved. We leave for China this Saturday, employed or not.

What family is inspired to say to me when they find out I'm pregnant:

"You look thin. You need to eat more meat."
"Umm…I've been a vegetarian for most of my life, remember? I don't eat meat."
"Well, I KNOW you don't eat meat, but you're PREGNANT. You can't have a healthy baby if you don't eat meat."
"My doctor is ok with my diet—"
"Does your doctor understand that you aren't eating meat? Because you need to eat meat."
"…Ok. Thanks."


"Have you had morning sickness?"
"No, actually I've been really lucky and I feel—"
"Well, just you wait. You'll pay for an easy pregnancy with a hard labor."
"…Er…Ok."


"You look great."
"Thanks!"
"That means you're having a boy. Girls destroy your body."
"Huh. Interesting."
"I had girls. See what they did to me. They destroyed me."
"Ummm…" (trying not to look as said-daughter two feet away)
"Of course, boys are nothing but trouble. You'll see."
"Ok! Great! Thanks!"

Said to me this weekend:

"I just like the north side better because the streets are on a grid, so it's easier to get around."

"Errrr…the south side is on the same grid. AND the east-west streets are all number streets, making things even easier."

"But my cabbie didn't know where your street was. You're like 1200 East, aren't you? 1200 East doesn't even EXIST on the north side."

"Ok, the fact that the lake's SHORELINE is uneven doesn't mean the south side isn't on a grid."

I went to the Chinese Consulate today to get our visas. It's like going to the DMV, but everyone there is Chinese. The lines are long, the hours are short, they take a one hour lunch in the middle of the very limited hours, and they yell at you for having the wrong paperwork.

There were two other non-Asian people there besides me. One was a priest; the other was a guy in front of me.

I got there at 10 AM. They close at noon for an hour lunch. There were 30 people in line. By 11:15, I had made it almost to the front of the line. I thought I would have no trouble submitting my application before they closed.

Then the guy in front of me took 35 MINUTES to submit his paperwork. There was much arguing. The clerk kept demanding paperwork from him. He would argue that he had already given her the paperwork; she would toss the pile of paperwork at him and demand that he find it. The guy would tell random people around him that he couldn't understand a thing the woman was saying (although I thought her English was quite clear) and say that he dreaded the idea of an entire COUNTRY with women like her. Based on comments like that, I was ready to be sympathetic to the clerk, but then she would find the missing paperwork on her side and demand all the paperwork back, then complain that things were now out of order. Ugh.

At 11:50, the guy was finally done and she called me forward. I was convinced she was going to announce that they were closed, but she took my paperwork and reviewed everything. On the application, I had to enter my occupation. Her only question about the paperwork was, "You say writer – what kind of writer? Are you a journalist?" I assured her that I was in marketing, which she had me add to the application. And then I was done. I wait four days and go back to find out if I was approved.

I've never needed a visa to travel before. Only two weeks left. I'm getting so excited about the trip.