I really should have done some homework before this trip to Taiwan. You see, my family (and I believe they represent a typical Taiwanese family) is all about collecting data points. Life in the States is so very different from life in Taiwan, so to make things more relatable, it really is all about comparing numbers, like median household income, average home prices in the big city, typical rate of savings per household, monthly expenditures, etc. But of course to further complicate my already shaky oral communications, there’s the constant mathematical conversions of currency and measurements (temperature, area, distance)! Thank goodness for John’s iPhone… not only were we able to look up the necessary stats, but I was able to churn out conversions in a somewhat acceptable response time. Boy, when was the last time I had to do real mental math, like serious calculations involving double-digit multiplication and division and shit? Like never. Relying on my brain power alone would have been a total nightmare!

So John and I are wrapping up our 9-day stint in Taiwan. In a lot of ways, I had forgotten about the standard-of-living divide. I mean, my relatives here live comfortably in concrete houses with all the basics plus most luxuries of modern living, but Wulong is still rather rural. In fact, it’s not even considered a town over here– they call it a village. And even though we have an ADSL connection at my aunt’s house, the phone and television connections are really shoddy. I had an awful time trying to find places to exchange my traveler’s checks. When I called various bank branches in the area, the phone line was so crackly, I couldn’t even hold a normal conversation. And when I went in person to like four different nationwide banks– none would exchange my traveler’s checks. I know, it was my own damn fault to assume any bank would perform foreign currency transactions… it’s not as if Wulong is anything close to an international city like Shanghai. I don’t know what I was thinking.

Anyway, this has been an ok trip. Next time though, I think 7 days will be adequate. There’s just a bit too much car travel visiting various relatives. And I think John and I will try to spend more time in the big city, and rent our own car or a moped. It’s just too much having to rely on others to drive us around (the mass transit is especially poor in the rural areas). Plus, people here drive crazy! When we visited my father’s friend in Taizhong last week, the guy drove like a freakin’ maniac. Seriously, I almost thought he was drunk or something: he couldn’t stay in the lane to save his life, and every day, we were trapped in the van for like 4 hours. I took Dramamine religiously and still, I got motion sick! The remaining days of our trip, my dad drove us around and he’s such a straight arrow, his driving here sucks too. Like he’s all anal about parking in that particular parking space, with equal spacing on all four sides of the car. And then he follows all the traffic lights and laws, so whereas most people just blow through shit, my father insists on stopping but he doesn’t realize the light is red until really late, so then we come to a screeching halt. Omg, total hurky jerky! Ugh. Well, like I said, next time, we’re driving ourselves.

My relatives are well. Their lives seem busy, especially with the additional rugrats running around but I think things are generally going well for them. John and I are pretty worn out by the Taiwanese hospitality… John says we’re like veal calves– lots of binging but very little exercise. I’m impressed how attuned my relatives are to our likes and dislikes… for example, my aunt always remembers all my favorite snacks and dishes so whenever I come back, all my goodies are there, ready for me to enjoy. Major attention to detail, especially considering that I only visit once every two years or so. I’m going to start prepping my own mock itinerary for when they visit us in the States. I’ve got to be prepared.

Conceptually, I love to travel. Practically, however, there is just something about traveling that wears me out. It’s really rather unfortunate, because in my usual home setting, I have lots of energy. I hardly ever sit still. But on my travels, I tire very easily and sleep several hours extra.

Sure, the journey to this part of Asia is a long one: almost 24 hours of travel just to get to Taipei: 3 hours at SFO, 12 hours en route to Tokyo, 3-hour layover, 3.5-hour flight to Taipei, 1 hr through customs, 45 minutes to the hotel… Still, I am only 32 years old. I should be able to handle the occasional 24 hours of travel.

Then again, we’ve been on a tight schedule. After a night in Taipei, we caught the high-speed train to Wulong (where my grandfather lives) the next morning. Gramps looks pretty much the same as he did in 2006: he’s in terrific health for an 85-year old. He does morning and evening exercises every day, he gardens, he does laundry for my aunt’s family next door, he goes up and down the stairs without too much difficulty, and he even scoots around town in his moped. His mind is still lucid.

Unlike my grandfather, Taiwan has changed noticeably in the last two years. The environment seems drearier and grayer. The air has always been bad, but I don’t remember it being this bad… Maybe California has spoiled me. Also, the island just seems quieter in general– the streets are less crowded; even the drivers have muted their once incessant honking. My cousins seem rather sedate too… they sit through meals in a daze: I ask lots of questions only to receive short, undramatic responses. Maybe the global economic downturn has put a damper on everything. Maybe it’s just age that kind of kills the zest for life. I’m not exactly sure.

John and I head off to Hong Kong next Monday. Surely, our remaining days in Taiwan will be filled with plenty of travels and way too much food. Damn, vacationing sure is tiring. I hope HK will be our little detox pitstop. I definitely need to take a break from the constant eating and shuttling around.

Phew! I am beat. And I just realized that I hadn’t even posted a word about the miracle of all miracles that happened last Tuesday night. Yes, I admit, I was a naysayer. I mean, come on, last time had burned me (us) badly, so out of self-preservation, I had to keep up my defenses. But holy. shit. Barack Obama won. Unbelievable and so fucking awesome!

As you might have suspected, his speech brought me to tears. Watching Obama, I honestly felt like I was in the presence of greatness (Come on, who can argue that Obama possesses that “it” factor, on top of being brilliant and polished and inspirational though I do wish he would change his definition of “marriage”…). And right as I sat there, overwhelmed by the genius of this man, the newscaster revealed that Obama’s speechwriter (oh yeah, I guess he doesn’t write all his own shit… duh!) is twenty-fucking-six years old!! So you know me, the weirdest things kick my ass into gear. Or rather, plenty of things trigger my inadequacy buttons, and yes, I have lots of them. When these hot buttons get pressed, I just suddenly feel so much urgency, like a panic, about my life. Like, what am I doing? What am I accomplishing? How can one person do so much in one day, in one decade, and I have nothing to show for? These are the questions that run through my mind. And so, I resolve to do more and to do better. You see, last August, my panic button went off with Michael Phelps and his million and one gold medals. The reporters said he spent like 30+ hours/week in the pool. His coaches were so deliberate in cultivating his athleticism– right down to planning when weight-training would play into his workout program! You see, all these considerations went into his development as a successful swimmer. There was planning. There was patience. Even though his fame came practically overnight through this one huge international event, Phelps and his coaches had prepared for this for years. And all of it just reminded me that people succeed due to a combination of factors, some of which incudes luck and chance and circumstance, but certainly, most do not succeed without discipline and diligence.

And so what did I do after Phelps made me feel inadequate? I started walking 2-3 miles daily with Bub and the pups. Seriously, if some dude can swim 30+ hours/week, I can certainly wake up an hour earlier to squeeze in 40 minutes of walking, you know what I mean? So now it’s November, and while we don’t necessarily walk every single day, we do walk regularly. And Bubbey has even shed some pounds to prove it.

Anyway, now that Barack Obama’s speechwriter has given me a complex, I’ve decided to get back to my learning to do list. Spanish has been on my list for ages, and for the last month, I’d been dilly-dallying over whether I wanted to take a week-long immersion course in Mexico over the holidays. After Election night, I booked the damn thing. Seriously, enough with the back and forth… life is passing me by, goddamnit. So, that feeling I mentioned earlier, that one of urgency, I finally moved on it. That’s the thing: there’s a lot I want to do in my life. And maybe I will never be the best or the most talented whatever, but I need to try harder. If anything, I need to keep the ball rolling…

I’m tired (John and the pups and I went on a challenging hike this afternoon), but the night is young. Hell, it’s only 8:30. Surely, I can squeeze in a lesson or two of Chinese. After all, even fricking ancient John McCain was on the go for a YEAR campaigning…

Our Asia trip is fast approaching… my parents ship out on Tuesday (after they cast their ballots), and we’ll meet them in Taiwan in a couple weeks. On our weekly call this morning, my parents stressed me out with all their questions about our travel logistics. No, I don’t know where I’m staying the first night we arrive in Taipei (we’ll need to catch the next day’s train to Kaohsiung). No, I don’t need auntie to pick us up via car. What sense does that make? They’re going to drive 5 hours to get me by car when I can just stay overnight and catch the high-speed rail the very next day for a 90-minute trip?? Are they insane? Inefficient hospitality.

Anyway, the interrogations kicked my butt into high gear, and now I’ve got the Taiwan part of our trip all figured out. Well the arrival part at least. I found a cute little budget hotel (Thanks TripAdvisor!) in Taoyuan (the city where we fly in– just outside Taipei) with the train station right down the street. And the train runs like 3 times an hour, so maybe we’ll even explore the area a bit before heading to the South. I’m totally psyched about riding the train. Seriously, 5 hours down to 90 minutes? Gotta love engineering and innovation.

The forecast is calling for rain all weekend. What better reason than to book tickets for two plays! John probably could care less (he’s not that involved with activity planning for the household), but I’m psyched to see two productions at smaller theaters in the peninsula. This evening we’re heading into Mountain View to grab a bite before Nickel and Dimed at the Pear Avenue Theater (I’ve never been). Thankfully, it’s also getting us out of dinner plans with Oscar’s parents. Yep. Seems like the wife freaked out about the husband’s grief and mourning, so she decided the solution was to adopt another kitten– from a later litter. The new kitten (also a savannah cat) arrived yesterday, and already Fonda wants us to go over and see him. Jesus. I have all these reservations and unanswered questions. I mean, was Oscar’s pyothorax indeed caused by a bite wound to the chest (as the vet suggested is often the case, particularly in multi-cat households)? If so, why on earth would you get another kitten? Just seems really irresponsible, and frankly, I’m annoyed. I mean, I suppose people deal with grief and heartache in all different ways but… Sigh. This just seems incredibly rash. Anyway, I just need a break from Fonda. She’s so damn high maintenance. In spite of this all, the new kitty sure looks cute.

But back to the theater weekend… tomorrow afternoon, John’s taking a breather from football to see The Little Foxes with me at our very own Hillbarn Theatre in Foster City. Got rave reviews, so I’m stoked.

As for today, John’s working so I’m left to my own devices. You know what that means: loads of laundry, vacuuming, errands. Yup. That’s just how I roll. Getting ready to head out shopping for a bit. Old Navy is having a big sale, and I’m generic (and cheap) like that. 🙂

My friend at work just got a new puppy. Well I guess Zainey isn’t all that new anymore… Jen got her a few weeks ago and the pup is already 14 weeks. An adorable little border collie-lab mix. Ultra cute. I was super psyched about introducing her to Remy and Martin, so on Thursday, I had Puppyfest at our house. Three doggies, four people, pizza, beer, and Pictionary. It was a good time.

As expected, Remy was a cranky little beotch, but Zainey loved it. And then poor Martin, he got chased by both of the girls. All in all, they had a blast running around crazy. With my two geriatric dogs, I can totally leave stuff on the sofa and tables, so I didn’t think twice about setting my cheese platter appetizer on the ottoman. Forget about it! Zaine was in to that cheese in no time! I had forgotten how fast little puppies dart around. Remy and Martin got so worn out, this morning they didn’t even get up to go for their morning walk. Senior citizens, I tell you.

So today was Halloween. I actually dressed up. I was a punk, meaning, I wore all black, had the fishnets and boots, the spikey belt, the dog collars, a nose ring, and some other silver jewelry. Being the cheap bastard that I am, I limited my costume purchases to just the spikey belt. Everything else was borrowed (like from Remy and Martin) and then thrown together. So I didn’t look totally badass. I didn’t look like some tough chick who was going to kick your ass. Too bad but that’s what I get for minimal investment. So sure, I didn’t go as hard core as I could have, but damn, some clueless dude at work asked me if I was a gypsy. WTF??? A gypsy? Honestly peeps, check out the pics. Does anything about my costume suggest gypsy? Huh? The bummer is, I didn’t win the costume contest. Someone else dressed up as Marie Antoinette with the poofy corseted dress, the white powder face, the white wig, and a bloody neck. Yeah, I have to say, she took the cake. But I wasn’t about to throw in the towel completely. I also entered the pumpkin carving contest. And you know what? John is damn right: the proper tools make all the difference. I carved that fucker in record time. Like 30 minutes. Who knew pumpkin carving could be so easy. I was pretty stoked about my design. If you must know, I was inspired by the tablecloth pattern at our office potluck. I carved a bat. And frankly, I thought she turned out pretty kick ass. But I still lost out. The random retard of a judge opted for the pumpkin that had the innards stuffed in its mouth (as if it were puking pumpkin guts and seeds). Yes, I admit the idea certainly was clever but still… My design required more skill. But I’m not bitter or anything. No. In fact, I’m mighty proud.

I brought the pumpkin home for Bubbey tonight. As proof that my plan to become more artsy/crafty and domestic is working. It’s in me. I know it is. Mind over body. Happy Halloween folks.