House of Zzznucci, er I mean, House of Gucci

Ever since I saw the trailers, I’d been stoked about House of Gucci. If I’d been in the states, I would have actually gone to see the movie Thanksgiving Day, even though in the past I have done my best not to buy anything on that actual day, in order to give the retail folks a break. Seeing the trailers really did make me want to be at home, the day off, stuffed full of food, and looking forward to a day at the movies. But thanks to Google play, I finally had a chance to see it. I pampered myself: steak dinner, potato, wine. And I was a bit disappointed.

It wasn’t the first big deal movie I was let down by. I’d waited years to see Judy, the movie about the last couple years of Garland’s life. And even though Reneé Zellweger did a fantastic job as Judy, the movie fell flat. And I felt bad for feeling bad. God knows Garland had been driven at a pace that required drugs, and you’d think as an adult she’d stay clear of them, but the damage had been done.

I didn’t have that same feeling with House of Gucci. I always felt sorry for Judy Garland, but I hadn’t known about the Gucci family drama and demise until recently. I am all about family drama, since my brother and I were left to squabble over our falling-apart childhood home, which our mother had left to both of us. Neither one of us could afford to buy the other out, so for nearly 20 years, it’s been me trying to deal with property taxes and insurance, and keeping it (barely) livable. The matter is heading toward a resolution, however, without anyone resorting to murder. House of Gucci is two and a half hours of a story that never quite takes off, despite a great cast and attention to detail.

Lady Gaga as Lady Gucci (or Patrizia Reggiani)

The movie opens in late 1970s Italy, Lady Gaga as Patrizia Reggiani, working at her father’s trucking company. A friend invites her to a party, and Patrizia shows up in a stunning red dress. At the bar, a bookish, nerdy dude is in serving position, even though he is an invited guest. So why is he behind the bar? We’re never told, but they meet awkward and we find out he’s Maurizio Gucci, a Gucci of THE Guccis. Not this Maurizio The confident Patrizia lures him out on the dance floor. She low-key stalks him and ambushes him at either a library or bookstore, I can’t tell which. They eventually go out on a date. Gucci is seemingly not too interested in the family business, instead training to be a lawyer. He’s sort of like the Michael Corleone of the Gucci family. He’s well aware of the circumstances he’s living in, but doesn’t want to be part of the family business. Of course, we all know how that turned out. Patrizia and Mauri get married, accompanied on the soundtrack by George Michael’s “Faith.” I don’t quite get it, except maybe it means that Mauri needs faith because even though he’s from a family with bucks, Patrizia is not exactly a starving secretary in a cold water flat. However, fashion is much more palatable than garbage trucks, or whatever kind of trucking company her dad runs. So seeing the future, you get the feeling Patrizia has married beneath her and above her at the same time. Mauri seems a bit lukewarm and less dramatic than his other male family members, and he blames that on his mother’s German blood. I hear ya, buddy. I have seen other Latinas more fiery than I am, and wondered why. It makes sense now. You drop a bucket of GERMAN over someone, and it blots out everything else. Mauri is so tightly wound, he doesn’t even show his teeth when he smiles.

Look out Mauri. She admitted she wasn’t a “particularly ethical person,” but she is “fair.” Too bad you’re gonna die soon.

Mauri and Patrizia and House of Gucci

Adding more fuel to the fire is that Mauri’s dad is not fond of Patrizia. He can see through her, and know that this wide-eyed Italian girl has goals, and it’s not to marry a lawyer. He throws Mauri out, and he is in the humiliating position of asking his future father-in-law for a job. He gets a gig, presumably moves in to the Reggiani household, and the wedding comes and goes. Mauri is happy with his blue collar lifestyle, but Patrizia wants more for him. Thanks to Mauri’s uncle, he and Patrizia squirm their way into the business, with his uncle’s blessing. Mauri seems a bit reluctant, but Patrizia is happy to accept free tickets on the Concorde to New York, free Gucci swag, and a great townhouse. Her dreams are coming true.

There’s some drama over shares of the company, and who can do what. One of the uncles, played by Jared Leto, is a wacky Italian caricature of….Mario from Super Mario Bros? He’s packed full of emotion, a wannabe designer who seemingly gets a shot…only to have his fashion show shut down. No one takes him seriously, and he ends up selling his shares.

Hitman’s Paradise

The wimpy Mauri grows weary of Patrizia, dumping her for a slightly younger blonde. Patrizia goes nuts, and it’s interesting to see her go from dripping fur and jewels to sporting jeans and a leather jacket, and a snarling, paranoid mood when she hires a hitman to take out Mauri. It’s sort of refreshing to see a woman so possessive of a man that she goes to such lengths to prove her “love.” Usually it’s the man who’s all “dammit, so she doesn’t want me, fine. I’ll kill the bitch. That’ll show em!” A dead lover/husband is a dead lover/husband, but Patrizia doesn’t care. Women scorned rarely care.

Literally Sacred Cows

Before all this went on, businessmen are trying to convince Mauri it would be in his best interest to sell his shares. Apparently mad bucks are being spent on everything except how to run the business properly, and he is reluctant to part with an empire. But $150 mil is $150 mil. He is forced to see how extravagant his spending is when at a dinner with investors, one of them asks about the meat they are served. The butler informs him where the meat comes from (Gucci cows, of course) and that the animals are treated like “royalty.” At this, Mauri slams his plate full of food into the floor and storms off.

Finally the deed is done, and we’re in the courthouse seeing Patrizia and her hitmen buddies and psychic best friend Pina get sentenced. We are left with credits summing up what happened to everyone else who was involved with Gucci. The wacky uncle died in poverty in London. The patriarch, Aldo, died of prostate cancer in 1990.

House of Gucci: Let’s Do Some Editing

I usually can put my finger on what’s wrong with something, be it a restaurant, a population control plan, or a novel, thanks to my lifetime of picking things and people apart, but I’m not sure what exactly is wrong with this movie. I’d have to start out with an editing problem. Each scene feels like there’s a bit too much of it. Like we get it, they get married. Too much time spent on that, the ski slope, the “hey, we live in a huge penthouse in New York, isn’t this great?” reaction shots of Patrizia set to the Eurthymics “Here Comes the Rain Again.” Even the scene where Patrizia confronts Mauri’s old friend and new lover Paola goes on for too long, involving strudel of all things. I’d start with editing first, but of course, no one asked me.

I guess the reason I’m upset is that I paid $20 or so to see this movie. I usually rely on my gut instincts when I pick films, and usually I’m rarely disappointed. But even though I spent the same amount watching it in China as I would in the US (when you figure in the popcorn and soda) I am upset that I spent that much on a movie that I literally cannot sit still to watch. I think I’ve tried watching it three times, and each time I want to get up for a snack, do laundry, wash my makeup brushes, go to the bathroom, brush my teeth or surf the ‘net as this semi-biopic drags on. It’s a shame that someone was murdered, but I can’t conjure up any tears for Maurizio Gucci. I felt he didn’t put his foot down enough when it came to Patrizia, and it seems like she was a better businesswoman than any of the guys involved. She actually gave a shit when she discovered her maid’s husband had bought her a Gucci bag for her birthday, and found out it was a well made fake. Neither Mauri nor Aldo seemed to care either, and that enraged Patrizia. Maybe Gucci was destined to fall only to rise again, without anyone named Gucci currently working at the firm.

Lauren, Ralph Lauren, not House of Gucci

Me, I’m a Ralph Lauren kind of girl. The Gucci print fabric doesn’t do anything for me. I prefer my bags a solid color and a classic shape, unless I’m in one of my whimsical modes. Classic lasts, and if I can ever afford it, I’d rather drop a grand on a bag that is going to look good five years from now, instead of only fifteen minutes. It’s the same with Louis Vuitton. I don’t like patterns, give me plain leather. Even that bag Carrie gave Louise in the first Sex and the City movie was awful. When I was in Beijing, I spotted a Stella McCartney bag I was very tempted to buy, but it was $1300. What was astonishing to me is that I actually had enough money to buy it, but didn’t. I wanted to hold on to my cash, because with my lack of luck with jobs here in China, I have absolutely no business dropping that much coin on a relatively small bag. This photo looks almost exactly like the bag I saw, except I could have sworn the one I saw in person had drawstrings at the top.

So cute. But I was a good girl and said no.

So, House of Gucci gets a “meh” from me. It’s a good movie to clean house to. I’ll watch it again, maybe to see if I can get through it, but when I watch it, I can’t stay focused.

Sorry, Mom

My mom’s birthday was on February 21 and I usually post something, but I guess I was too preoccupied with other things.

I like to think that my Mom is happy that I’m in China, but she’s probably also worried, if spirits can do that. Mom wanted to travel, but the older she got, the fewer places she went to. I was trying to get her to go to Las Vegas, but she wasn’t interested. She didn’t like flying and didn’t like driving on the highway. She was so freaked out about highway driving that even though we scheduled a visit to Plymouth, Indiana, to check out a litter of puppies, she’d gone to Petland and got Daphne. Mom just didn’t want to drive on the highway. I was a bit horrified, getting her from a pet store, but she must have been one of the lucky ones. I never knew if she was from a puppy mill, but she was our longest lived dog. Seventeen years, four months, and two days.

But I think it’s a bit sad that in her younger days she wanted to travel, and when she finally had time and a little bit of money to travel, she never got any further than Angola. She had a friend she used to hang out with, and every Saturday, they’d have lunch and drive around. I was happy that Mom had reconnected with an old friend.

Anyway, Happy Birthday Mom. I think I’m on the right track now. You were so smart about things, and at least one of your predictions about me came true. The other hasn’t, but that feeling you had that computers would someday run our lives was spot on. I’m working on your third prediction. I love you. I hope it comes true.

Happy Chinaversary!

Today, February 28, 2022 marks my third year in China. Or, my Happy Chinaversary.

Last year, I didn’t make a video, The first year I did. The song is a mashup of “Jump” by Madonna and “West End Girls” by the Pet Shop Boys. I’m rather proud of this mix which I did myself.. Featured in the video are photos from the first year. Why isn’t there a second year video? Glad you asked.

Oh No Guangzhou!

Guangzhou River, showing the financial district.

I had to move away from my beloved Xiamen and chose Guangzhou because it’s only an hour from Hong Kong. However, Covid said “screw you” so I never got there. I was in Guangzhou, which has really good food and they’ve done a wonderful job with their riverfront, but I couldn’t take six months of gray skies. After a week, I thought, “It’s gotta clear up sometime.” A week turned into a month, then two months, then five months, then six months. To say I was depressed was an understatement. The lack of sun rendered me practically comatose, so I spent my lunch hour locked in my classroom, taking a nap. If anyone complained, I was going to say if I didn’t get my short nap on my lunch hour, they’d be lucky if I showed up to work at all.

YouTube Saved my Life

So from February to July, I struggled to get through the days. I finally got caught up around March, and by then I didn’t care anymore. Sounds terrible, but it’s the truth. I’d come home at night and fall asleep to YouTube. Making a video was the furthest thing from my mind. I really wasn’t in a good place.

Back home Again, in Xiamenana …

This year, it snuck up on me. Dealing with a new school, getting back on schedule and coping, I realized earlier today that it’s been three years since I set foot in China. I’m hoping my return to Xiamen gives me the kind of life I’d envisioned for myself over here when I was still stateside. My first year in Xiamen I had to work year round and had shorter vacations than normal schools (except for that four month vacation when Covid came to town) so exploring happened on weekends or some of the longer holidays we had.

Wish I Could Forget

So Happy Chinaversary, no video, sorry. I don’t look back fondly at my stint in Guangzhou, or the nanosecond I was in Beijing. But hey, at least the sun shone there. I remember that first Sunday, I went to Tiananmen Square and basked in the bright sunshine and crystal-clear sky. The sky was such an amazing shade of blue I couldn’t believe it.

See what I mean? I couldn’t get enough of this sky!

So hopefully next year I’ll do a video and have plenty more pictures of Xiamen to put in the video.

Little Girls in Pretty Boxes, or, Part Two of Nothing Beats Olympic Figure Skating Drama

Read part one here.

Little Girls in Pretty Boxes is a great book about female figure skaters and gymnasts. I always wanted to be one or the other, but never realized my dream. At least I taught myself how to skate (not well, and I can’t do backward crossovers), but I don’t fall when I skate, so there’s that.

Killed by the Yurchenko

Joan Ryan wrote this book sometime in the 1990s, and I highly recommend it for anyone horrified by what went down in the women’s singles event in Beijing. Little Girls in Pretty Boxes mentions Tara Lipinski, Michelle Kwan, and several well-known and obscure gymnasts, who faded away before they ever got any real press. Ever hear of Julissa Gomez? She rose in the ranks of gymnastics and kept going even though her training ended up separating the family at one point. The real horror was her demise. Gomez learned the Yurchenko vault to earn more credibility. In order to get a lot of height, you need that extra momentum. So she learned the Yurchenko, which requires the gymnast to run full tilt down the runway, then do a round off back handspring ON to the springboard, facing the vault backwards and upside down, pushing off with the hands, execute a number of twists and somersaults before landing back on Earth.

A Botched Thomas salto

Gomez was at a meet in Japan. She kept thinking about Elena Mukhina, a Soviet gymnast pushed too hard into training after recovering from a broken leg. She wasn’t ready to do the floor exercise trick, but did it anyway. Her coach, Mikhail Klimenko, had her doing Thomas saltos, made famous by Kurt Thomas. It’s a 1 ½ back flip into a 1 ½ twist, with a forward landing. Fresh off the surgical gurney, the Soviet national coach pushed her to try the trick. She crash landed on her chin, and became quadriplegic.

A thousand yard stare if I ever saw one.

Haunted by Mukhina

Gomez couldn’t stop thinking about Mukhina after one of her former coaches was pointed out to her at the Japan meet. Mukhina’s ghost must have been out for blood, because while Gomez was warming up, she attempted the Yurchenko, a skill she wasn’t consistently good at. Her foot slipped off the springboard, but she kept going. Without any lift, her head slammed into the vault. She was going so fast, she cleared the vault anyway, flopping to the mat. She was in a vegetative state for years until she died from an infection.

At least, in tennis, you might be able to make a bit of money…

Binging, Purging and Sexual Abuse

The book also talks about eating disorders, wacko coaches, image, nutrition, and how college gymnasts have the same bone density as post-menopausal women because surprise! They stopped menstruating years ago due to barely eating in order to keep their weight down. Binging, purging, sexual abuse, Olympic hopefuls in odd years born too early to have a shot at glory. It’s all here, and female figure skaters are the winter sisters of their fellow tumbling athletes and have stories to tell. Ever wonder why women’s skating champions aren’t really women, but girls? Because school figures, the tedious tracing of marks on ice were eliminated sometime in the 1990s, paving the way for 90 pound wonders to pull off triple loops, sometimes in combination. Once you develop hips and breasts, it’s over.

No Fat Chicks, or Average Chicks

If memory serves, the book mentions that the 1972 USA Women’s gymnastics team had an average weight of 121 pounds. Now, the average weight is around 85 pounds or so. Average age is about 17, I think. Larissa Latynina was 21 before competing in her first Olympics. She retired at 29. Which seems astonishing now, but this was before Belá Károlyi discovered that there’s nothing quite like five-year-old kids who don’t quite realize how dangerous life can be. Thus, the youth movement in gymnastics began, and how Olympic champions were created before they were old enough to drive cars.

Athletes are Entertainment

So the freak out over the Russian skaters and their coach from Hell is nothing new. It’s been going on for years, but athletes are entertainment. We sit at home scarfing Cheetos and washing it down with gallons of Coke and Mountain Dew, while these athletic wonders go on to Olympic glory, but sometimes not. Mukhina died at the age of 46, Elena Shushanova at 49, and Kurt Thomas at 64. Pass me the Lays Classic and a two-liter of Coca-Cola, I’m gonna hit up YouTube and watch what I never could have been, not in a million years.

Nothing Beats Olympic Figure Skating Drama

Some of the best drama is Olympic figure skating drama. I really haven’t watched much of these Olympics. I was able to see Nathan Chen’s gold medal skate online, but as for the ladies Olympic figure skating drama, I’ll have to watch it later. Last night, I celebrated the first week of my new job by indulging in a homemade steak dinner with mashed potatoes, and a couple of glasses of wine. I topped it off by watching House of Gucci, but from the sound of things, I was watching the wrong drama this Friday night.

I’m Here, but Not

I had moved to Beijing a few months ago so I could be in the same city as the Winter Olympics. It was my dream to see an Olympics in person, but realized it wasn’t going to happen. I have never paid for cable television here in China. I have a television, but I’ve not watched anything on it. YouTube is my main source of entertainment. I don’t even bother with streaming services, because I don’t live in the U.S. and the only streaming service (if you can call it that) that I can rely on is Google Play. So while I’m in the same country as the Olympics, I could be literally anyplace else. I don’t feel a connection with the games like I used to, and I totally forgot the ladies free skate was Thursday. When I got on YouTube Saturday, I realized what I had missed and regretted watching House of Gucci. I picked the wrong drama.

Say No to Drugs

Russian skater Kamila Valieva was the favorite to win in China. She had a stunning program set to “Bolero” which I saw from her Rostelecom Cup performance on YouTube. Definitely a force to be reckoned with. She had athleticism plus the artistry. But she was involved in a doping scandal in Beijing. She was taking tremetazidine, which according to an Associated Press article, increases blood flow and boosts endurance. Athletes certainly want that. I don’t associate figure skating with doping, for some reason. But skating IS exhausting. The few times I’ve wobbled around a rink made me realize that.

Steroids CAN Be Awesome …

When I went partially blind in my left eye several years ago, I had an MRI done because my doctor wanted to check some things out. It showed I didn’t have Multiple Sclerosis. But why the blindness happened was a mystery to me. She was confident the vision would return, so I went on a steroid regimen for about six weeks. Huge, IV doses at first, around the clock for three days, then pills to gradually wean myself off. I had energy those six weeks. Mad energy. It was great except for the fact the energy just wouldn’t turn off at night. I was also uncharacteristically upbeat. When I went back to my usual self, I asked my family doctor if I could stay on a small dose, but he said no. I get why athletes and body builders like steroids. Who WOULDN’T want to feel like you can conquer the world 24/7? Before you throw a fit, the steroids I took were legal. Prednizone. I’d been on it as a young girl to help with my arthritis, but I don’t remember feeling so great.

Mother Russia Must Win

Back in the days of the USSR, sports were super important. I’m not surprised that Russia had a doping scandal. However, it shows how athletes are used as pawns in a “We’re so much better than you” game that countries play at the Olympics. Yeah, our human rights record may be spotty, but damn, no one can hit pucks, slide down ice, ski, snowboard or figure skate like we can, so WE RULE! Those not familiar with Russian figure skating should know that they have dominated pairs for like, ever. The rules for figure skating changed after another Olympic figure skating drama at the 2002 Winter Olympics where Canadians Sale and Pelltier won silver, while Russian pairs Elena Berezhnaya and Anton Sikharulidze won gold, with what looked like a flawed program. Turns out there was fixing, which is something common to figure skating for decades. Judges will collude and say, if you place our ice dancers first, we’ll give you the men’s singles gold, or something like that. The 2002 scandal was why the scoring system was changed in 2004.

Part 2 of this post coming soon!

Justice for Steve

I’m a huge fan of Sex and the City. No, I haven’t seen And Just Like That. Since I don’t live in the U.S., I have to wait until things are available on Google Play. I just checked, and AJLT isn’t on there, although it’s been added to my wishlist. Oh yeah, one other thing: Justice for Steve.

Spoiler Alert!

However, I’ve been able to read a lot online what people think about it, and it doesn’t look good. There is a ton of criticism about all sorts of aspects of the show, such as the amount of “wokeness” on the show, the inserting of every new trendy thing into 10 episodes, Big’s death by Peloton, Carrie as a podcaster, Miranda giving up her career as a partner in a law firm, Carrie not calling 911 when she found Big experiencing a heart attack, the lack of sex (except for Brady, Steve and Miranda’s son) and probably the biggest deal of all, Miranda asking Steve for a divorce.

WHAAAAT?

Yeah, exactly. The couple that seemed to make the most sense and perhaps the best chance at survival are breaking up. It does make me wonder if that saying is true: nice guys finish last. Men are fond of saying that women genuinely go for the assholes, and the nice guys get nothing. It’s a familiar trope that plays out in entertainment as well as real life. And even though I haven’t watched any of AJLT, save for snippets of scenes online, I have to agree with what people are saying: Justice for Steve.Doomed from the Start?

The couple first meet when Miranda, having just been blown off by Carrie so she can eat veal with Big, asks Steve, a bartender for another glass of wine. He irks her by adding, “please” on the end of it. Eventually they get together, but before the inevitable wedding, Miranda, the group’s eternal pessimist and Queen of Sarcasm, analyzes why Steve isn’t right for her. He’s a bartender, for God’s sake. It’s probably not the kind of profession she expected her dream man to have. They get into an argument when Miranda asks Steve to a law function, but realizes he doesn’t have anything to wear. She buys him a suit he cannot afford. He feels inadequate and they break up. I notice that it’s super romantic when the guy is rich and helps out a broke damsel in distress, but if the woman has bucks, it always causes problems.

I Feel Bad for You, so I’ll have Sex with You

But after a pity fuck during a testicular cancer scare, Miranda winds up pregnant. She keeps the baby and Brady Hobbes enters the world. Steve and Miranda co-parent separately, but confess at Brady’s first birthday their love for each other even as their current SigOts are waiting in the other room for the cake candles to be lit. Miranda’s current squeeze is the doctor for the New York Knicks, while Steve’s lover is a woman named Debbie.

So they get married, despite Miranda squashing Steve’s dreams of winning the free-throw contest at the Knicks game, their conflicting schedules, and his relax and smell the flowers demeanor. One of the more poignant scenes of the original series is when Steve asks Miranda to look out the window at the moon. Miranda does. Steve is genuinely a nice guy, perhaps too nice for someone like Miranda. Steve opens a bar and becomes a business owner, and one feels like he was goaded into it by Miranda to prove that he too, is worthy. They move to Brooklyn into a house that’s big enough for Steve’s ma, who has Alzheimer’s, to live with them.

Get you a man who looks at you like Steve looks at Miranda

The first movie continues Miranda’s brittle, “I’m on a schedule here,” demeanor when she tells Steve, in the middle of lovemaking to “just get it over with.” I have bad luck with men, but even I know not to say something like this. Prior to that encounter, they hadn’t has sex in six months. Yikes.

So super nice guy Steve does what no one saw coming: he had a one-night stand. Miranda’s storyline throughout the first movie is how devastated she is about what Steve did, going on and on about how terrible it was to do that, how she yells at him during Carrie and Big’s rehearsal dinner that “you broke us.”

But in And Just Like That …

Steve and Miranda eventually get back together, with a memorable scene on the Brooklyn bridge and another one of them having sex. You get the sense the universe is all right, with all four storylines ending neatly. The second movie, a total disaster, shows Miranda quitting her job because she feels unappreciated. In AJLT, she quits again because she’s woke. And also a lesbian. This seems like a betrayal on a couple of levels. In the series, Miranda kissed a woman in SATC to see if she felt anything, and she didn’t.

He Said He was Sorry …

She was devastated at Steve’s infidelity, yet asked for a divorce and didn’t think anything of it. Staying home with Steve eating ice cream and watching Netflix is not enough. Steve asks Miranda what she thinks is out there, and I guess it’s Che, played by Sara Ramirez and almost universally hated by fans watching AJLT. It would have been bad enough if she left Steve for another guy, maybe an attorney or hedge fund manager, taller and handsomer and not hearing-impaired, but no. She leaves him for Che, who looks like she could beat poor Steve to a pulp.

Justice for Steve

So fans are commenting on YouTube with their own storyline suggestions, dreading/craving the second season of AJLT (some want the story continued just so they can hate watch) and coming up with some decent revenge storylines. Yeah, he cheated in the first movie, but was so genuinely remorseful about his one night stand that it hurt to watch. The girls listen to Miranda go on and on about his indiscretion, and even Samantha says, “anyone can have a slip.” Even I would have forgiven Steve in this situation. But the fantasy storylines dreamed up by YouTube commenters envision Miranda getting dumped and Steve not taking her back, or Debbie reenters the picture. They even suggest Carrie, newly widowed, might hook up with Steve. Regardless of storylines, the prevailing attitude is “Justice for Steve.”

Nice Guys Finish Last?

It will be interesting to see how the Steve storyline plays out. I think there will be a second season of AJLT, though I’m not sure. How will Steve end up? He claims he won’t ever take off his wedding ring, because he believes in “’til death do us part. If Steve truly does end up alone, it’s a disturbing message for all the nice guys out there. But for overachiever Miranda, Steve wasn’t enough. I have a feeling though that Che’s rules aren’t going to be something Miranda can understand, much less live with. If Miranda freaked out about Steve’s one night stand, how will she cope with Che? She (they? them?) seems more sexually liberated than Miranda. Something tells me Che is just fine with multiple partners and Miranda won’t want to deal.

Why Get Married if it’s So Boring?

It’s also an interesting commentary on marriage in general. People spend their youth looking for “the one”, and get divorced anyway. The girls were afraid of getting older and being alone. Then, when married, they bitch about how bored they are or how their kids aren’t turning out as planned.

I hope I can eventually watch the series and join the general feeling of “what the fuck happened?” that the loyal fan base is feeling. Yeah, I know the ladies are in their 50s, but so far, it’s painting a very gloomy picture of aging. I’m not alone in saying this. After the last couple of years, what we don’t need to know we’re all going to die someday. Sex and the City wasn’t realistic, yeah, we know. But it was sort of something we could aspire to: being successful on our own terms, having fun, having great friends. AJLT is too much a reflection of our current society. Middle aged women should be on TV, but shit, the Golden Girls had more fun.

But I’m rooting for Steve. He’s the nicest one, the least pretentious, the most genuine. And even more heartbreaking, he wants Miranda to be happy. Bring Back Debbie. Get her and Steve together. Because nice guys deserve happy endings too. Justice for Steve.

Finally, Another Video

Video editing is really time consuming. I made another video, but it was frustrating. I have an okay program, not expensive, but I think something’s wonky with my mousepad and little clicker buttons. Also, I edit so infrequently, that I usually forget how to use whatever video tool I need. This time, it was the splitter. I wanted to drop in a Spongebob reference (how old am I again?) and it took way too long to do it.

Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa

With all the Youtube I’ve been watching, you’d think I’d be getting better at editing. There’s some content out there that is really great, and you’d think by watching it I’d pick up some pointers. Not yet, folks. Maybe someday. But I impulsively put together a video on how to ride the subway in China. I finally got brave enough to do it in Beijing. I’d ridden the subway once in Guangzhou. But it really helped in Beijing because it’s so huge. If you take a Didi (Chinese Uber) you end up spending time sitting in traffic, unless it’s past 10:30 p.m.

Island Living is only a Half Hour Away

I moved back to Xiamen but now I live in Jimei. A quiet area with a few malls, and lots of apartment complexes. I actually turned down the chance to live in a mall, of all places. I couldn’t believe it. My teenage self would have loved it, but my place in Beijing spoiled me. The mall apartment with a lousy view of an abandoned flip-flop was just too small for me.

It was a cute apartment, but with this view? NO.

So where was I again? Oh yeah, the video. I figured after riding the subway in Beijing with 18 lines to choose from, Xiamen should be super-easy, with maybe four lines? Six? Whatever. Line 1 will get me where I need to be; near Zhongshan Road and Tacos. So here it is, a not-so-quick video on how to ride the subway in China. Relax, it’s in English. And so is the subway.

F Bistro in Xiamen So Worth It

I haven’t been eating much lately, but what I am eating is so good. Decided to try F Bistro in Xiamen. French food in China? Wine not? (See what I did there?)

Seriously though, if you love beef and cheese and wine, you need to go. I was in the mood for mashed potatoes, of all things. I could have saved some money if I’d just gone to the store and picked up some Idaho Russets (or similar) and put them in my “juicer” at home. It’s not really a juicer. It’s one of those things that is a generic magic bullet. There’s nowhere for the pulp to go. It’s what I used to make mashed (more like pureed) potatoes since I didn’t have a hand mixer or one of those potato smasher things. I was in the mood for some kick-ass beef and F Bistro did not disappoint.

French Onion Soup to Start

One thing Americans don’t really realize is how big entree portions are. In other countries, the entrees are reasonably sized, so you can actually order an appetizer and a main meal and not feel like you are stuffed to the gills. At Bistro F in Xiamen, I had French onion soup.

With a big hunk of cheese toast in the middle. In the upper right hand corner is a bowl of bread and some butter.

A better shot of the bread, which had a nice chewy crust.

The soup and the cheese toast went down so well, I wondered if maybe I’d ordered too much. Like I said, I haven’t been eating much lately, which is somewhat alarming, but not really when you consider I still should lose another 20 pounds. But my Australian beef with mashed potatoes arrived, and my mouth is watering now. It’s 1:05 a.m. and no, I can’t go and order this meal because the place is closed. I’d also have to put on pants.

The beef arrived, cooked medium and it was melt in your mouth tender. Seriously. I would have appreciated more mashed potatoes, but what can I say? I’m an American. I might have to grab some potatoes this weekend and mash them up at home. I have steak, too, but probably isn’t as good as F Bistro in Xiamen.

Cozy Elegance, but not Pretentious

Attentive wait staff kept my water glass filled, and suggested a substitute for my beloved Coca-Cola. They offered sugar-free sparkling tea, which was a nice choice since I rarely drink.

A helpful chart. They had this the last time I was here.

I am a sparkling Moscato kind of gal, but I wasn’t in the mood for wine this night. I should have taken a picture, but I remember one of the times I was here when I first lived in Xiamen looking at the prices for wine. There was one bottle that cost what I then made in an entire month. I don’t like wine THAT much, but this is a great place to go. I went on a weeknight, so I am not sure what the crowd is like on the weekends, but it’s probably more populated. F Bistro in Xiamen is in the expat side of town, although I saw some locals dining too.

They also have cheese plates to choose from too. You can go whole hog and order a meal costing thousands, or you can have what I had (soup 60 Yuan, steak 290 Yuan, about $49 USD) and save a little. $49 might sound pricey for steak, but in Beijing, I paid even more for fish and chips, and chips and guacamole at The Cheesecake Factory. It you really care about quality food, especially beef, F Bistro is the place to go. I intend to get over to Jacky Angela’s too, which is another superior dining experience in Xiamen. In case you are wondering, this isn’t the first time I’ve written about this place. Read more here.

A Nice Day at Tacos

So today I planned to eventually head out to Metro, which is sort of like a Sam’s Club. They don’t have clothes, but they have food in large quantities, appliances, bedding, beauty aid stuff and an okay selection of office supplies.

But I got sidetracked. I hadn’t been to Tacos in a few weeks, so I decided to go. Check out my post here, published just days after it opened. This is what I had this evening: a burrito, chips with salsa, chips with cheese and a couple of Cokes.

Yes, I played three games of pool with a guy out for a Sunday evening meal with his family He won two, I won one.

Photo of my burrito at Tacos.

Photo of decor at Tacos.

Photo of my cheese and Chips at Tacos. — This was good too.

It wasn’t my intention when I got up today to head to Tacos, but I hadn’t really eaten anything all day, so I said, “why not?” I love this place. I feel at home here.

Friendly Staff!

Cheque was here tonight and it was nice to say hello. He has three branches of Tacos; one is in Shanghai. Can’t remember where the other one was. Weiwei served me tonight. I screwed up by saying “dos kele,” when I actually meant to say “er kele.” Two Cokes. That’s what you run into when you try to learn two foreign languages at the same time. After I practice Chinese, I practice a little Spanish. It’s the first foreign language I’m familiar with, and it seems downright easy after Chinese, which is so totally different from what I’m used to. The ambiance of this place is just right, too. The decor is nice and having a pool table upstairs is wonderful. Tables aren’t placed too close together, and the restaurant just seems solid.

I’m glad I made a last-minute decision to venture to Tacos.

Metro

As I said earlier, Metro is sort of like a Sam’s Club. One of the more challenging aspects of living in China is that you will probably have to go to more than one grocery store to get what you want…and probably order off Taobao or Baopals (Taobao in English) to get some of the more westernized food items. There are six different kinds of ketchup available at your average store, but good luck finding cocktail sauce for shrimp. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve stood in front of a shelf of ketchup, trying to will a lousy bottle of Heinz 57 Cocktail to materialize. And Tasty Life, the expat-friendly grocery store is no more. So I check out all the grocery stores to see who has what. I discovered a new one, Bravo, just last night. I’ll write about that soon. Because you never know when a five pound bag of unpopped popcorn kernels will materialize. (This was at Metro).

Finally on Instagram!

It took me forever, but I am now on Instagram. Hoping to share more frequently on this platform, although the internet will have to cooperate.

I’m Chinagrrrl7. A nod to my ‘zine days, my favorite number and the country I’m in.

Why?

What compelled me to get on Instagram? Not sure. Maybe a way to get the word out about the blog. Maybe to share a little bit about Chinese culture and how it looks to an expat who only moved out of her parents’ house nearly three years ago, FOR THE FIRST TIME.

Or maybe it’s a way to keep an eye one some of my favorite trash television stars who are Instagram 90 Day Fiance “famous” and its many spin-offs. Yes, I know it’s hot garbage, but I find it empowering. I didn’t move overseas for a guy, I did it for a job.

Which is almost as scary, honestly.

Talkin’ to YOU Liz!

And my self-esteem is lifted knowing no matter what my hang-ups are, I’m not like these people.