For most of last week I had writer’s block and was only mildly frustrated that I could not get on to post on the blog. My piece about Day of the Dead was particularly insipid which I wrote off as post-burglary stress syndrome. My second post wasn’t so bad so I am keeping it and will post it eventually. But now, more than a week later, I have to consider the fact that this is not a mere computer glitch, perhaps WordPress with its new Mandarin language feature, is overwhelmed. Or maybe, some other ominous reason.
The last week has been busy with a return trip to the lamp shop, in an even wackier location, and the Secret Purse Lady with Princess Ai Lin. Secret Purse Lady is deserving of a post of her own as she was situated in an off the wall, literally, location herself. (At least this time I did not have to crawl into an attic at a market to look at the fake Fendis). I resisted everything, including the LV pink wallet that fell fresh off the back of the truck. Truly, the people cooking in the doorways and hanging laundry in unique aerial formations were more interesting. What does it say about me that I don’t want to spend even $35 for a high grade psuedo Bottega Veneta bag? Perhaps I am losing my shopping edge.
After lunch, Princess Ai Lin and I went to the Starbucks at the Portman hotel where the red carpet was rolled out for the Phil Mickelson and Vijay Singh. Looking so hot we were mistaken for golfers’ wives, the doormen gave us a warm welcome. I was hoping to one up Mr. Understanding who had seen Cal Ripken, Jr. at breakfast at a hotel in Guang Zhou by getting an actual autograph. Alas, the golfers were not in the lobby. My neighbor had the best sports star sighting of all, though, lunching next to Roger Federer. He looked tired she said. Was it the jet lag or the tennis?
The next day Sweetpea and I went to Dong Tai Lu, the antique/junk street. Sweetpea was very patient with me and explained a lot about Chinese art and symbols. Out came the cash as I bargained the dealers down. They silently cursed Sweetpea, fluent in Mandarin and English, for telling me when their prices were too high. Mrs. O’Leary should know that I found the perfect pink vase for her new McMansion for the low, low price of $500. Gorgeous. But not even I am gutsy enough to make such a purchase solo, without spending authority, even though it was a steal. Maybe it will still be here when she comes to visit in 2009.
Then it was on to parent teacher conferences yesterday which any parent moving to a foreign country simutaneously looks forward to and dreads. How are the children doing? Do they stack up? Are they pills? It turns out my children are perfect so I can continue my life of leisure as an arm-chair parent, a seminal achievement of a weathered expatriate.
After much ranting last week, Glama Villas welcomed two German shepherd roving security systems and their handlers and has posted a guard at night at my end of the street. The knife under my pillow was returned to the kitchen. Life continues apace. It is currently all good.