Someone told me there is an International Bad Parents Day. LOL, it must be designed for self-centered parents like me - one who cannot remember kids’ birthdays and all who knows me knows my laziness knows no bound. It is a wonder how my kids are still alive today. I must go all out to celebrate in style with three wise women, all failing society expectations by some margins. We are an inspiration to ourselves. What do you do?
Ken was invited yet again to be a guest speaker at an event. He public speaks so much, I wonder what his real job is. I, on the other hand, am so under the radar that nobody knows what I do in the office. Which is my perfect state since I excel in doing nothing. Some say I oversee finance and others say I am the company’s legal + contracts person. Oh my GOD…. Seriously…
One must appear insufferable and exhaust oneself doing ONE service to showcase one’s value to others. Maximum effort is what people like to see. Unfortunately, all I talk about was good food in a good hotel. Andy did a good job with Park Hyatt Suzhou. Staring at his skirting details while lifting weights in the gym gave me vivid imagery of him trying his best to irritate GM’s construction team. They must not be friends. And those bevel edges looked too much like a touch of Ian Carr.
Did all these beautiful interiors inspire me to get back into hotel design? A job scope that clearly differentiate the good and bad designers? No way. I was happy just sending daily photos to Megan, who also questioned, “what exactly are you doing there?”.
Ken flew all the way down to NYC to attend Pokemon Gold Fest! “All the way” was somewhat exaggerated since he was only 3 hours flight time away at that time. Work is certainly better when it offers opportunities to explore. Never fail to make an effort to discover a new place that offers a different experience.
Inspirations
While Ken collected bragging rights to new mons caught from the States, my monthly Shanghai trips yielded loads of Taobao purchases. Brought home a proud collection of鱼山’s sketches. Watermelon Dreaming of Summer is my favorite series which even got Mimi chatting happily about new watermelon possibilities transcending it’s ordinary and mundane form for one whole week.
Amazingly, his creative paintings inspired and motivated Meggie to write. Meggie soon posted her own version of a whimsical watermelonly story. Art pollinates literature. Love how little effort it seems but one watermelon opened up a world of imagination for my daughter who was never big on expression.
Mr Morg on the other, expresses extensively. Never fail to inform me of his daily excitement and worries no matter where I am.
M&M’s activities, while one parent is away has attain a whole new level of impressive. When I was out of town, Ken did a solid five-day Lego Camp with Morg. Boy loves camping with dad so much, I was chased out.
Meggie got interested in crocheting which luckily for me, was right up Popo’s alley. Grandma and granddaughter, 60 years old age gap, building such momentum to create craft that both households, 13km apart, suddenly had all their free time occupied with yarn and handmade softies.
This got me seriously thinking what I will be conversing with my kids and grandkids when I turn 70. Will I have interesting skills and hobbies to inspire the young ones to come to me? And yes, I mean “they come to me” (I am the center of my universe), not I go to them, like good parents offering them my services. Just dreaming, because with my current skillset, I will likely end up 跟年轻人讲大道理? Not good. Old age is upon me, any action is NOW.
What can I do to occupy my old age?
Mimi’s failing eyesight is preventing her from enjoying her embroidery hobbies. Hence, new hobbies that occupy my old age must survive me going blind. Music! I cannot sing so it will have to be learning a musical instrument. Hahaha… YY learning music… LX was amused.
Now approaching elderly status, I have no one left to impress (except myself), unembarrassed to start anew (teacher growing increasingly exasperated with my breathing) and thick skinned enough (sorry neighbors, I feel for you, unfortunately this is no temporary gig) to continue learning well into my 50s.
Instrument of choice - bamboo flute.
7 lessons, 81,000 seconds of practice later…
I am happy to announce my thumb is no longer cramping. Meggie who picked up her clarinet whenever I started practicing now tells me it is a bad idea to practice in the same room. Every new piece still needs to be WhatsApp to Mimi for her to audio record her humming back (I can’t read scores!!!). But it is great. Progress is in line with 10 more years of lessons and practice.
Video recording myself practicing is the best way to improve. But in my narcissistic self-gaze, I can only see one fat left arm. OMG the visuals!!! Camera angle, camera angle, they all comfort a visibly distraught me. Zoom in a bit more and OMG ten short and fat fingers. HORROR!!! Where is da elegance of flute playing?!! Water retention, water retention… just massage the fingers daily and they will be slim and long in no time… Emotional damage…
Barbie
Maybe, just maybe, I need to embrace my true inner self – 原来I am a bimbo.
Because when office announced Friday to be Barbie Dress Up Day, my heart soared, and went shopping for a pink dress immediately.
Excitedly searched for myself in ChatGPT.
Offered my best skillset as door bitch for the day. Showed off my painted nails and the gals cracked up so bad. Claimed I cannot paint within the lines. BITCHES.
Sorority was not all a let-down as the sisterhood rescued me in manicure and hair makeover @admin and FF&E department. Anything they can find on material boards goes into my hair.
Can’t wait to wink at my boss and say “I don’t know” to everything. “Elbow cannot bend, sorry today cannot work also!” A very good day.
Because I accepted who I am – I am a bimbo and I am the center of my universe!
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