Not only kids SAY the darndest things, they really, really DO the darndest things.

For Mikayla's homework assignment, the 'rents were instructed to hold each end of the bedsheet and demonstrate the concept of high and low wind by swaying.

After our spectacular presentation, Mikayla was to draw a picture and write a sentence phonetically describing the event. It didn't matter if the words were totally butchered, her teacher was only interested in seeing whether or not she could apply phonetic rules. With two oversized dorks trying to explain about air, wind, and whatever the heck we concocted out of our buttholes, I instructed her to draw the picture to end the ramble.

Five minutes later, she notified me that she was done with her drawing. Without looking at it, I asked her to go ahead and write a sentence about her artpiece. While I helped sounding out the words with multiple syllables, I could see from my computer desk how white the knuckles on her fingers were. I thought the pencil was ready to snap in half.

Upon completion, she galloped over to me from the floor with an enormously toothy smile. My, how deep were those dimples! Before I could even glance at her arduous attempt at spelling, what I saw on paper propelled me into a massive fit of hysteria. Dumbfounded, Mikayla had no idea what on earth caused her mum to gasp for air and have tears running down her eyes.

Miki had drawn two figures, each holding one end of a blanket. Our circular heads were atop of our extraordinarily round bodies, much like the number '8'. Also, with our short round arms and legs, one would immediately conclude that Mikayla's parents were related to the Pillsbury doughboy. But no, this wasn't what caused my hysterical fit. Uh, it appears that my daughter has picked up mum's penchant for being detail-oriented.

There on paper, daddy was illustrated in his full glory - our little Picasso decided to pencil in his boobies and bellybutton.

Nekked Pillsbury doughbum wid two little dots as boobies and a humongous bellybutton.

Dad couldn't understand how anything could be so funny and demanded Mikayla to show him the magnum opus. When he laid his eyes on the beloved masterpiece, he freaked out. I chortled even louder.

With his ego on the line, I knew adjustments were on the way - plus, it wasn't exactly a good idea to deliver the end-product as-is (or is it?!)...so I helped Mikayla draw a line 'connecting' the dots to create a neckline and erase the sexy bellybutton forever.

This is one of those rare moments where I wished I had a scanner.

On the other hand, mommy was drawn with large, flappy elephant ears with little diamond hoops. Somehow she managed to detail my earrings instead of my Stonehenge baby tee. Still, it beats having boobs drawn on ya!

Last but not least, she managed to write phonetically: "MoMe and DaDD r makn windi"

We be making or breaking wind?! LOL

...having to sharpen crayons.

Yeah, that says it all, huh?

Last night around 7PM, Miki and I sat in front of the telly watching BBC's Walking With Dinosaurs series and I promptly passed out after seeing a large muttaburrasaurus go hogwild when a flurry of mosquitoes had a block party in its ear. When I finally woke up 2 hours later, the meteors obliterated all of the dinosaurs leaving our planet with new species of birds and animals. While trying to pry my eyelids apart, I saw this humungous, mutated, repulsive-looking creature smacked right in the center of the TV screen. This thing, called a Gastonis, looked like it was an end result of a science experiment that had gone horribly wrong - a mishmash of parrot, chicken and emu rolled into one.

Yuck.

I don't usually fall asleep like this, so this was a clear indication how I tired was. After spending so many hours in the office and totally neglecting everything at home, I'm beat. I've designed and reformatted forms, order a slew of supplies, devised interesting techniques to train Grace and tried my very best not to get into a pissing matches with nasty patients.

Not only am I physically tired of all of the things going on, I'm also mentally exhausted with having to contest with these cross-cultural 'tudes. Businesses in Chinatown have a completely different set of practices which can be quite stressful. I'm talking about having to work longer hours (weekend-wise), modified ethics, specific conveniences, and screaming matches with cheapskates.

Because we have a high percentage of Fukienese patients, they have an entirely different mindset than other dialect groups. I absolutely REFUSE to modify the business practice to deliberately to CATER to these jackasses. Granted, I'm dissing out my own kind, but really, enough is enough. They come in, without an appointment and have to bitch about having long waits. This is where I come in to contend with such negativity. I cannot sit by and have them tarnish the good name of the practice just because they can't adhere to simple rules.

Plus, this is what burns me more than anything else. These assholes get FREE healthcare. At least 50% of this population do NOT deserve this government benefit since they make money off the books. Because I pay for their healthcare right out of my paycheck via NYS taxes, they OUGHT to wait their damn turn. I have every right to bump up those patients who are paying hundreds of dollars out of pocket just to see the doctor.

Those who pay cash for their medical services never seem to give us a hard time. This very fact stumps me.

Then you get the crowd of schmucks who complain that I don't speak Mandarin or can't answer any of their insurance questions. Since when did I become a healthcare representative? Learn the damn language while you're in this country.

Last but not least, I get an odd lot who absolutely insist that I play phlebotomist, refill their scripts, and provide referrals in the absence of the doctor. When I promptly inform that I was in no position to do so, especially without a license, they spit back with a snide and gassy remark: "Well, what the hell did he hire you for?"

To deal with you stupid asswipes.

I've spent a lot of my time training Grace with tidbits of office etiquette and processes this week. Although it's my 2nd nature, my mind reels back back at least 18 years ago when I received my first business/office training at some youth program. Who would've thunk that these City-based programs in Chinatown would actually do me any good.

With our senior bratty receptionist, Yuki, I was fortunate to have someone who thinks on her feet and searches for any dire shortcuts that would still get her ahead of ballgame without too much effort. From a Chinese perspective, it would appear that she's lazy as hell, but for a kid w/o previous office experience, this qualifies her in the genius category. She only needed one day to train and that was it. Of course, business was dead last year compared to this year's. So the kid learned on the job.

On the other hand, Grace isn't the sharpest knife in the kitchen drawer. Although she had some office experience, her mindset is anchored to the restaurant business. As a result, her work ethics and thinking closely mimics to that of robots and hamsters in wheels. So, I have to train her from scratch - all the way from answering the phone to basic photocopying. Her filing's horrendous, shows NO confidence, and gets picked on by these moronic patients.

So, my mind situates itself back to 1986. While I sit in a hot sweltering room with peeling paint, my Chinese instructor is barking about the top 10 principles of what NOT to do in her bwoken Engrish. Amazingly, I am reiterating the same principles to Grace. It's weird because I recall scoffing at the entire program and was dragged in by mum because she insisted that I get a decent office job instead of working at some sweatshop or restaurant.

For me, all of Grace's errors parallel to my own experiences but I learned from them to prevent future accidents. Unfortunately, she belongs in the category of the underachievers who try very hard to please but doesn't understand operational mechanics. For the manager, this means you have to explain everything in simplistic terms and micromanage the hell outta them.

Bottom Line: Management Sucks.

Yesterday, I received 3 packages in the mail - all ebay auction wins. Like a kid who woke up on Xmas morning, I went through my new 'toys' individually and inspected for any potential flaws.

So far so good...

I won a copy of Curt Smith's "Soul on Board" album released back in 1993 (not cheap, I assure you). It wasn't as bad as some grumpy folks claim, and like one reviewer on amazon.com, it's actually nice to just HEAR Curt's voice for a change. Quite honestly, I never preferred Roland over Curt when I listened to Tears for Fears. However, I always thought Curt was cuter (and still do!) than Roland. I will admit that when Curt left, it was rather disheartening and I stopped following them after 1990.


But rest assured, I'm not obsessed as some folks think I am. Not so. It's not as though I know what they eat for breakfast, follow Caroline Orzabal's artwork, wake up in the morning and say to myself, "now I know who politician granny is!" or name my kids after them or people related to them.

No kidding, but I met these retarded folks at the Today Show last year and one woman named her son, Raoul (after Roland - his birth name was actually Raoul but his mum changed her mind since she wanted his name to sound a bit more English AND Roland's kid is also named Raoul). Another woman named her daughter, Diva, after Curt's daughter. Sorry, but I still like Mikayla better. Even if I had a son, Roland Chan or Curt Chan doesn't have a ring to it.

Uh, no. I prefer to read about their philosophies and ideals and leave at that.

So Mikayla kinda, sorta follows mum's so-called passion with Tears for Fears and was deathly curious to know what I was listening to. I had my headphones plugged into the puter becauase I wanted to hear it LOUD. She spotted Curt's solo album and like a typical 5-year-old, fired off a slew of questions yet again:

Miki: Mommy, where's Roland?

Mum: Roland's not on this CD. It's only Curt.

Miki: But WHY Mommy? WHY? [frowns]

Mum: Because Curt wants to make his own music. He wants to use his own ideas and music.

Miki: BUT NO!!

Mum: Why not?

Miki: Roland has to sing! Curt and Roland supposed to be together!

Mum: But this isn't Tears for Fears, it's just Curt and his own band.

Miki: But how can Roland sing without Curt? They HAVE TO BE TOGETHER!


Man...I don't think I've seen my kid so distraught over something so...um, what's the word, trivial?!

It's official.

I can't go back working in a customer service sector ever again. After being consecutive pissing matches with the dumb ass patients today, I'm completely wiped out. I had forgotten how weary one gets from having to deal with rancid-smelling, autistic, swamp mutants from the planet Jimjongbazoo. They are fierce believers that their neanderthal ways should not be amended in our country's customs and traditions. Fine then, haul your effing bony ass back to those miserable rice paddy fields.

I was brutally reminded this afternoon why I despised working in Richard's office.

Apparently, Grace (the younger idiotic one) has been cutting corners and allowing assholian patients move up the line when they make a stink. Now they expect me to fill in her shoes.

Fill in her shoes? WTF?! Are you shitting with me?

Uhhh...NO.

Not with me. I make things plain and simple, by the textbook - the next one on the patient register list goes in to see the doctor. I make no any exceptions, unless you're about to have a heart attack right at the moment - then again, your ass oughta be in the hospital, not in my office.

Grace decides to assume the role of Mother Mary and cares for every decrepit looking weasel coming in. Technically, it's a nice thing; however, when you toss a monkey wrench into a process which has been working well for years, then it becomes a serious issue. Unfortunately, she has a tendency to respond towards those who are obnoxious, condescending and aggressive. See, when you try to mess with me, I will undoubtedly rip you a new asshole. I make no bones about it. Hell, I don't even give a rat's ass about what Richard thinks at this point. If you think treating me or the other girls like shit is the way to go, then I'll just punt it right back into your court.

Oy. I now have a wicked headache. If this Grace doesn't get her act together in the next few weeks, I'm gonna be looking for another receptionist.

It's quite obvious how I get along with folks fabulously - especially those who live far away. It all starts with one letter, phone call or email and woosh! I've got buddies everywhere. It's a knack I possess and a necessary Fidelity skill. Because the main headquarters is located in Boston, most of our business partners can only be accessed by means of the phone or email. Therefore, you need to build up those relationships to get the job done.

Well, since I've mentioned many folks here in this blog, let me introduce you Lori:

About 12 years ago, I had an English pen pal from Cheltenham, Catherine, whom I corresponded quite frequently. Although I had never met her, she had the most quaint handwriting I've seen on paper. Interestingly enough, she and Lori were close friends and mutually set us up as pen pals around the same time. Luckily for me, I had the privilege of getting mail from both sides of the Atlantic.

Lori and I continued to keep in touch while Catherine dropped off the face of the earth. Throughout the years, we've provided each other with little updates here and there. She's sweet, artistic and a lot of fun. But you absolutely MUST see her photography, it is stunning and breathtaking. She captures fleeting moments at angles and perspectives with such emotional integrity. Really, she's worth all of the money in the world.

http://www.lballardphoto.com/index.html

A few years ago, she had a wedding portraitures posted on the site with fantastic candid moments captured on film. If we were living in Tampa, I'd love for her to take b/w pictures of Mikayla. I'd have a Mikayla shrine built just for that purpose!!!

Have a looksee and enjoy!

For those of you who wonder WHY I am sporadically blogging, there are two reasons:

UNO - I am uninspired. I used to read Heather's blog first thing in the AM and digest it. Now I revert back to reading the news which doesn't have much flavor.

DOS - I have been stuck in the office fixing broken processes and screaming at the staff. The girl whom we hired to replace psycho Grace, is screwing everything up. Not only does she lack common sense, but ironically, her name's Grace too.

Bottom Line: Do NOT hire anyone whose name is Grace.

Okay, you've heard me bitch for MONTHS about what an irritant Grace was when it came to money and god knows what else churning in her unbalanced mind.


Okay, so enough is enough. I saw through her actions and it was quite odd, because I hardly could predict anyone's actions oh so accurately.

Since we fired her and mum came back, I've seen less and less of her at school. I deliberately kept my distance because her erratic actions make the buzzing of those juicy fat horseflies seem like nada. And trust me, I absolutely loathe the buzzing!

During the last week of school, I volunteered once again to wrap presents for all of the children. Since it was a half day and the morning was spent on rehearsal performances, I pretty much parked my ass on those tiny little seats going through a mountain of books, tape and wrapping paper. I left the rehearsal early since my camera died on me. Instead of being bored and watching the other classes rehearse, I split to get a head start.

The kids returned to their respective classrooms for lunch while I remained in the music room with two other parents. School officially ended at 12PM, but the teachers were willing to 'watch' the girls (I decided to take Miki's best friend since her mom couldn't get out until 3PM) while I did the school's dirty work. Besides, the girls really didn't need any supervision - just needed someone to ensure they didn't go wild and butt naked.

There was a bustle of activity to wrap up the school year with everyone cleaning up and shipping out. Grace had somehow joined in on the hustle by running in and out of the school every freaking moment. She had an obsession with taking snapshots of the children and would have them immediately developed at the local shop. I mean, she would WATCH the clock and return within 60 minutes of handing over the film canister. Sheesh.

After I left the auditorium, she had chased me down asking me what my plans were for the day. [Basically, she's stalking my every move.] She wasn't particular to helping out at school, so I rubbed my volunteer initiatives into her face. If there's no advantage to her diligent efforts, then there's no reason for her to do it.

It was so obvious how she wanted to piggyback lunch off of me, but I pretended not to notice. People knew how I enjoyed taking the kids out to lunch with other moms. Because I am so repulsed by her behavior, I adamantly refuse to see a silver lining in her cloud. I was so tired of hearing shit from other people, including my own mum, about her misfortune and how we should all pity her.

Gimme a break.

When she found me in the music room, she reitereated the same line of questioning - Um, do you have any plans this afternoon? Are you busy? Have you eaten yet? Instead of offering assistance with wrapping (I could've used it), she zipped out of the room and asked our head teacher if she needed help with wrapping. WTF?

She reappeared 15 minutes later with a handful of pictures of our children's rehearsal. Her daughter was starving, but wanted to play with Mikayla and Joyce. For the 4th time, she beat around the leafless bush about having lunch. I abruptly left the music room and reappeared with a kid's lunch in my hands. I proclaimed how I couldn't leave the school premises since we had run out of paper.

That ended the discussion completely.


I decided to remain on the school grounds since the children were playing happily and to extend their time together. Besides, I was getting good dirt on the school, so why not stay a bit longer?

Around 3-ish, Joyce's mom appears with a bunch of Bubble Green Tea (oversized tapioca pearls in milk tea) drinks in hand - followed by Grace - AGAIN. Ugh. It turns out that Grace was hanging out at the internet cafe with Kristy spending 2 hours in front of the computer. Because she couldn't get a free lunch out of me, she decides to knock off free drinks from Joyce's mom. :oP~~~~

Have we had enough yet? This gets better.

On Saturday, one of the moms from Mikayla's Pre-K class invited the whole class to kiddie bowling at Chelsea Piers. A small population attended this party since it's usually those who are chummy with the kid or with the parents who would indulge in these events. I got along fabulously with the mom even though her son tends to be a bit rough with Mikayla. However, my daughter can actually put up with Ethan's rambunctious antics and happily share her snacks with him. Ethan's the one who's got really cool dinosaur-shaped sandwiches, so it's a big plus for her.

Although I had offered to contribute to the party's expenses, Ethan's mom wanted to host it on her own. So it was fun & games for the kids and food for everyone. Well, would it surprise you that Grace showed up with her daughter?

No, of course not. Not even after the humiliating incident that took place during the school year between Grace's ex-husband (Eric) and Ethan -


But the pathetic thing is this: Grace goes around tirading throughout the school year about how rotten Ethan is and adding layers of spit to the kid's name. If she dislikes him so much, then wouldn't it make sense not to show up?

Hell no. This is a freebie event. With complimentary food and bowling, it would only cost Grace $4 to ride the subway.

When I arrived the bowling alley, my eyes could not deceive me. Once again, Grace's personal conceit takes over in the guise of her daughter's needs. I couldn't believe it, but she actually donned on a pair of bowling shoes and swung a few balls while her daughter sat at the tables stuffing her face.

Now that's freaking downright scary.

No, she wasn't teaching any of the little children how to bowl. Although Kristy didn't want to play, at the VERY least, you could've let the kids have an extra turn in playing OR teach them how to throw without using a ramp.

To me, that's really f*cked up.

Plus, when one of the kids arrived late, she didn't even give up Kristy's spot (WTF!?!?). She continued bowling away. Mind you, NONE of the parents bowled. Everyone was busy with taking pictures or helping the kids bowl (like me).

Meanwhile, Kristy was shovelling food down her throat and I was appalled by her atrocious table etiquette. Most normal kids would pluck off grapes individually from the vine, and this little scrawny one here - would chomp on them while holding the bunch high up in the air. Kristy was eating as though she hadn't been fed in a week.

Surprisingly enough, Richard came by to join in on the festivities and even HE noticed Grace bowling. For a guy who's oblivious to his surroundings, this was definitely a highlight. He never pays any attention...not even when it was Mikayla's turn to bowl!

Over the past two months, I've upped my feedback score by 10 points via purchases on Ebay. The scary thing is that I've blogged less and ebayed more.

Okay, I better go back to blogging since it doesn't cost me anything.

Will be responding to emails soon!

If you see an empty subway car, RUN your ass over to the next one --



A homeless individual in dire need of ablutions is slumbering in it.

Because of my daughter's intense fascination for extinct prehistoric animals, we can't help but to foster her interest by purchasing a variety of dinosaur toys. She can pronounce the names of the dinosaurs better than counting from 1 to 20 or even speaking to grandma in Chinese.

Last year, we got her a set of dinosaurs from Animal Planet at Toys R Us. She would shove one of the figurines right up my face and eagerly demand the name of a particular species. For 4-legged creatures, the names were usually found underneath their bellies while 2-legged critters had names imprinted on its tails.

Two weeks ago, dad bought another set of dinosaur toys for Miki without mommy knowing. If I had known, I would've sent the toys back on the shelf and pointed the way out of the store. Not only am I still sore from her being an ingrate, spoiling is a big no-no. Of course, dad is going to refute it because he needs to win the popularity contest.

I returned home later that evening with Miki gleefully showing me her new set of dinosaurs. As usual, she raised each and every one of them wanting to know what the proper names of the odd-looking creatures.


Right away, I knew that Miki's peculiar lot of dinosaurs weren't kosher. I explained to her that there were no names for those animals since they were just regular monster toys. Mikayla turned one of the critters over and pointed out to me that there was a name on its tummy like the rest of her other toys. Wide-eyed, she asked me to read it out loud.

Mum: Made In China.

Miki: Maidenchina? That doesn't sound like a dinosaur name, Mommy.

Mum: It isn't. I told you that these are monster toys, not dinosaurs.

Miki: So why does it say maidenchina?

Mum: Because many toys are made in China.

Miki: Why mommy?

Mum: (Groans) Because China is a large country and have lots of people working in toy stores.

Miki: But why mommy?

Mum: ARGGHHHH!!!!

I couldn't come up with a creative answer to deflect her line of questioning, but it was a good thing that she left it alone and resumed dinosaur playing.

So...

On Sunday, I was at the puter watching a few items on ebay. While waiting for the minutes to count down, I overheard my daughter's dinosaur banter along with a handful of figurines in front of her -


Then, she carries on a deep conversation with 'em:

No! No! No! Allosaurus speaks English! He's so hungry that he's eating all of my plant eater friends! Oh no! He's going to eat the little babies too! Where's the Parasaurolophus ? Did Allosaurus eat him too?

(Yes, Mikayla can actually pronounce THAT name - perfectly!)

What? What! No! You can't talk in English to Blue Velociraptor! He speaks Mandarin! Aiyah! Fai-dee-ah! Fai-dee-ah! Nay jo mut yeh ah? [Aiyah! Hurry Up! Hurry Up! What are you doing?]

Mom: Um, Mikayla, that's not Mandarin. That's actually Cantonese sweetie.

Miki: Oh, okay, mommy.

Blue Velociraptor speaks Cantonese Chinese! He doesn't speak English! He's needs to go back to China because he's made in China! Jow-uh! Fai-dee-ah! [Run! Hurry!]

Her teacher wasn't kidding when she mentioned about how IMAGINATIVE she gets!!

D'OH!

After writing so much about the events which took place in April…maybe it’s time I moved into May?

Damn. Time REALLY flies. So fast that it’s downright scary. What bugs me more than anything else is how little I have accomplished in the past few weeks. There seems to be a slew of priorities everywhere, but none of it pertains to my personal development, creatively or otherwise. Maybe that’s why I was in such a foul mood last week. I didn’t really know what to do with myself. Still don’t.

Then there’s this other factor eating me up at night. Mikayla.

Since my mom has returned from China, I have relinquished my child over to grandma and everyone’s a content camper. However, there seems to be a shift in her behavior which has caused me to lose my temper more often than not. The more I pondered over the situation, the more I realized that both mum and schmucko are turning my kid into a lazy and bratty ingrate.

She’s recently forgotten all of her manners, won’t look anyone in the eye when being addressed to, and adamantly refuse to obey simple orders. On occasion, I would negotiate certain terms to get her to complete some of her tasks, but now, I can’t even reason with her at all.

I didn’t see it at first, but this behavior has been emerging since May…so basically her monstrous change came about during my trip to London/Myrtle Beach.

Great. Both daddy and grandma have been running popularity contests and spoiling her endlessly. Mikayla may have missed Mommy’s company and smooches, but she sure is having a party without mum. So, everything taught was thrown outta the door. Nice.

When this happens, I have no choice but to put all of her favorite things away and out of sight until the ugliness goes away. Then I slowly withdraw each item back out to reinforce positive behavior. It may sound simple, but dealing with an attitude can wear you out. Especially when you're prone to bad moods.