MTV Cribs: Our sweet oasis in Shanghai

We entered a big, spacious, modern living room, clad in Ikea-inspired furniture and art. Bernard turned to me giddily and just smiled. I just kept thinking it was too good to be true. The SECOND apartment we see cannot be in our price range and look this good! But it was.

Bernard and I have been living happily in our swank ass apartment on the 10^th floor of a busy street in Shanghai across from stores, soccer fields, and three metro lines for about two weeks. We’re happy and comfortable. This is definitely a place we can call home. Knowing that we got to choose our own apartment during our time in China, we decided to take advantage of that privilege and think about things very carefully upon renting:

1) We are going to be spending a LARGE amount of time in this apartment outside of work, considering we don’t plan on traveling that much due to our lack of time off, so we want to REALLY like where we live.

2) We are going to have looooooong days, and some will be really frustrating. And what’s more annoying than being pissed off and going home to a grubby cave that you wish was better?

3) We want to be happy, comfortable, warm, and feel like we LIVE here; not just that we’re here for a year and it’s almost over. No… unlike our previous overseas experience, we wanted this apartment to be OUR apartment.

We happily signed a lease and Bernard says almost weekly how much he loves our place. The location, the size, the bed (omg, the mattresses in China are rocks, but our bed is splendid and I’m SO HAPPY ABOUT THAT!), the kitchen and the fact that it exists, and just the cozy feeling of the place.

Now I will soon upload a video tour of our gorgeous palace, but I currently sound like a frog (pollution sickness… good times…) so until my video, I have provided you with a delightful visual tour of our beautiful apartment in China, complete with commentary. Enjoy:

An Exploration of our Oriental Oasis

Here's our lovely first floor bathroom. It's equipped with your basic toilet, sink, and mirror, but also groovy tiles which are psychedelic and I totally dig them. Also, when you close the bathroom door, it looks like it's just a giant black room so it's all magic! Love it.

See? Pretty cool, eh? I love the Asian inspired art on the wall too. I wish I could take credit for decorating the place, but it came this way! Works for me!! :) 

Here's the shower. It's your standard shower. Thank GOODNESS it's got a heat lamp because it's very cold in our main bathroom! We personalized it with a sweet orange scrubbie and some Jackie Chan shampoo. HAH! Kidding... that shit's expensive yo! 

This thing makes me SO happy. It's a coat rack that looks like a piano! RIGHT?!?!?! I'm in love with it and I really want to take it with us when/if we leave!

Yes, we DO have two floors! Here are the stairs up to our bedroom/kitchen area. Note the sweet poster of the New York subway. Modern chic!

Here's the hallway into our bedroom/kitchen area. To the right is the second floor bathroom.

Here's the second floor bathroom. Cute, eh? Note the tacky, green seat warmer. Now, if you were here in China during the winter months, your ass would approve of that seat warmer, let me tell you! It gets pretty cold and nothing's worse than a cold ass! 

Second floor bathroom sink. It's up a level, which is weird. And it's super short up there. Bernard has already hit his head twice! Poor guy. I like it though. It's unique.

Our bedroom! Behind the sliding doors are the storage area and the kitchen. I love the details on the walls! :) How funky!

The kitchen. Personalized with fridge magnets! :) We've got some sweet gas burners and a handy condiment shelf above the stove. No oven, but I think ovens are just hard to come by in China... unless you have the $$$$. Our fridge is HUGE though, compared to other fridges we've seen that are essentially bar fridges. People do a lot of eating out in China.

The storage space. Honestly, there are so many places to put things, it's lovely. We're organized anyway, but this helps!

Here's a view from our upstairs balcony: Shanghai Stadium.

A downward view of the street below.

It wasn't very polluted when Bernard took this picture so you can actually SEE what we see! It's been so polluted here that we didn't know buildings behind the stadium existed! Brutal, eh?

Take a look at that sunshine. :) Gotta love it! 

A delightful photo of our kitchen plants and sink. It's big and bright and more than we could have asked for in a kitchen. Very happy!

The condiment shelf. The cupboards are pretty small and/or have piping in them, so this little space about the stove is great! It also looks super cool. 

Our living room! The dresser thing beside the TV is a shoe rack! I dig it. It's pretty cold down here though so I cannot wait until it warms up a bit. I guarantee we'll spend lots of time here. There's even a desk space beside the window for office-esque duties. 

A sweet ass picture of our living room. Check out that sweet light thing!! :) It's big and beautiful. And HEY! Notice that couch? It's a futon. Pssst! Come on over. We have space for you. :) (Bring warm clothes!!!) Hah. 

Finally, a picture tour wouldn't be complete without a night shot of a soccer game (wouldn't it be nice if it was hockey?!?!?!?) going on at Shanghai Stadium! We don't need ESPN... we can just watch from our balcony! :) Now, I don't like soccer... correction, it's a terrible *sport* and I kind of hate it greatly, but I like this apartment so much that I actually enjoy seeing the guys playing on the field during the day and night. It reminds me of how lively Shanghai is. Now if only the subway didn't close before 11pm!! Oh well. You can't have everything.

I hope you enjoyed our picture slideshow of our Shanghai apartment. Stay tuned for more blogs when Bernard and I start to feel better. We're (I'm) still being affected by the pollution and displaying cold-like symptoms which makes us (me) want to do nothing ever. At least I went for two walks today! :) THAT'S a lot when you can barely breathe. Aya! Shanghai! :) GOOD TIMES.

Until next time,

Your favourite Wuns 

ShangHAI: How China changed my life in 80 seconds

At the airport. My intestines begin to knot in a “you ate a stick of butter, didn’t you?” kind of way. Damn it. Bernard gets me some hot water to press against my piercing side. It subsides about 3%. Boarding time is approaching. I pop my first gravol. We get on the plane. It seems roomier and more comfortable than the one home from Abu Dhabi. I’m pleased. We set up camp in a two-person row right in front of the washroom. Here we go!

The flight was fine. I woke up every 5 minutes it seemed, and because it wasn’t a night flight, I knew the jetlag was going to be a royal bitch.

Day four in Shanghai: yep. Jetlag is still making things difficult, but we’re getting by surprisingly well. Anyway, when we land there are about 6 people clad in Disney attire waiting for us. We feel excited, valued, and giddy. They are smiling and really glad to see us. We get driven to the hotel where our first language barrier happens. OH YEAH! I had almost forgotten that China wasn’t an English speaking country! This is what Bernard and I were here for. We spent a great deal of time in the airport being amused by all the typos on the advertisements.

After a couple crazy gestures and a million head scratches, the hotel staff finally gave us a room key to a tiny two single beds room. Of course. We walked into the room and saw a stuffed toy of Winnie the Pooh in a Disney package and two welcome bags! Over the next few days, we would be getting loads of papers and things to organize ourselves before the real work began.

After parking our things and reading through our welcome pack (which included a Mandarin phrasebook thank goodness!), we found some people who offered to stroll around with us. We chatted away with our new friends, had a bite to eat, and were ready to pass out around 8pm. The first night was death. I barely slept and had that piercing pain in my side return. At breakfast the next morning, I could barely stand let alone pound back a dumpling and other various Chinese breakfast items (not Cheerios or bacon and eggs, let me tell you…). Anyway, we met up with a friend we had dinner with the night previously, and in a matter of minutes, we were laughing and chatting with a whole group of people.

I’ve got to say: my favourite thing so far about China is the people we’ve met who work at our company and the people we’ve met who have introduced us to other expats living here. Everyone is SO friendly and willing to help (the locals certainly aren’t… seriously. A dude at the airport was pressing rapidly on the door close button when we tried to get into the elevator. Luckily, we pressed harder on the door open button. Bitch). We’re also all in the same boat. Jetlagged, foreigners, knowing little Mandarin, super giddy about working for Disney. I love it!

Our first day after the flight was spent doing orientation and meeting fellow members of Disney. Like I said, everyone is excellent. I felt really at home right away and Bernard and I both chatted up many people and made friends. We visited a centre and it was exactly what I expected: colourful, bright, child-friendly, interactive, filled with stuffed toys and books; and that was just the lobby! We’ll be visiting more centres tomorrow (Monday), but what I have seen so far, I like. We sat through a bunch of important housekeeping sessions, such as cultural assimilation, housing, and medical.

Amazing addition #1: included in our medical is a free phone number for counseling specifically related to overseas teaching! We can call this number any time with any concern and get English service. Now THIS is something I wish I had in Abu Dhabi! Thank goodness I had wicked friends and a solid husband who didn’t mind my bitching.

We went back to the hotel for a free group lunch and I was very thankful to be hungry, unlike breakfast that morning or dinner the previous evening! I gobbled up some pork fried rice. For those of you who are picturing your classic fried rice from Golden Lake or Dragon King or some other North American Chinese food joint, picture differently my friends! This was some authentic ass Chinese pork fried rice! It was incredible. The flavours! The texture! It was very different but I really liked it. So far, I’m not the biggest fan of Shanghai food… but it’s only been a few days and in my defense, I’ve been very sick and thus nauseous and anything but hungry!

I gobbled up my fried rice and Bernard savoured his beautiful beef and potato pot with a side of traditional rice. His plate was epic! You’re probably like, bitch where’s a picture?!

Neither of us have taken a single picture yet and there are a few really excellent reasons why:

1) Theft is huge in China and Bernard’s camera is gorgeous and expensive and we’re a little nervous about that so we’re keeping cautious until we settle in.

2) We haven’t been to any touristy destinations yet and we LIVE in Shanghai, so we’re bound to see what we’ve seen again.

3) We’re both still dreadfully jetlagged and ultra-busy so pictures are not on our mind right now.

So this is how China changed my life instantaneously:

I now cross roads with extreme caution and count my lucky stars any time I don’t die because pedestrians do NOT have the right of way and scooters are assholes.

I eat so differently and my IBS has taken a vacation or stayed in Canada (GOOD RIDDANCE) because most of our meals consist of Chinese buns, ultra greasy anything, or MSG exploding Asianness. Also, I’ve gained 70 lbs. Gotta love being in a big city where you take 8 steps and there’s another Chinese bread store! J

I understand a little Mandarin and can sort of speak a couple of necessary phrases and it’s only been a week… necessary. We’re not in Canada anymore... Bring it on! 

Wunce upon a Time in Shanghai

 Sarah’s first day off without Bernard Part 1:

I hope this isn’t Viagra…

So I dropped off Bernard at work this afternoon because we unfortunately do not have the same days off, much to my adamant request. Assholes.

Anyway, I decided to venture out into Shanghai and do some errands on my own and embrace my independence and knowledge of Mandarin (lol… that would be none…).  

IMAGE :

An intersection near our apartment. Notice the scooters riding into oncoming traffic. WELCOME TO CHINA!

So Bernard and I both have really bad coughs at the moment. For those of you who haven’t heard, Shanghai’s AQI these days is hitting the 500+ digits and therefore, we’ve both been breathing in satanic amounts of pollution, no jokes. So I sound like the Exorcist on a rampage and he sounds not that much better. Last night, I spent the night coughing every 2 seconds… it was pleasant.

So I hunted for a pharmacy. Unlike Canada, you cannot get medicine anywhere. All the stores are generally divided, so you have to go to a pharmacy for cough drops, for example. I walked into this green place with a plus sign (plus sign is pharmacy, right?). I walked around until I found what looked like a doctor’s office and a bunch of what I knew was medicine behind a counter. I asked the woman, “Do you have medicine for?” in Mandarin and then coughed. She told me to go upstairs. I UNDERSTOOD! Feeling confident.

Upstairs was a busier, bigger looking pharmacy type place. Four older Asian ladies were standing behind the counter talking. I walked up. Ni hao! I asked, “Do you have medicine for?” and then coughed. She said something and rushed over to a counter and brought back three packages. She pointed to one, said something, and then made a sucking noise. I figured they were cough drops. I had bought Halls the week before, so I didn’t want to pay for more of that type of thing, so I said “Wo yo” (which is obviously spelt wrong, but you get it), which means “I have” and then she pointed to the other packages and made a cough sound so I said “ah ah ah” and nodded. (That’s kind of what people do when, I guess, they mean “okay” or “yea, that’s cool” or “I feel you bro”… I don’t know). Anyway, she tried to give me two, but I insisted just one and asked, “How much?” in Mandarin, forgetting that I don’t know numbers. She told me and wrote it down IN MANDARIN and gave me like a prescription and told me to take it to another counter. Shit. Well, I guess I’ll have to buy it now…

IMAGE:Me being confused about what I just bought.

I went to the next counter and the woman took my script and told me in Mandarin the price. I looked at her, said sorry, I don’t know in Mandarin, and she took out a calculator and typed in 30. THANK GOODNESS! I said YAY and she laughed. I gave her 30 RMB and she gave me a pink slip and told me to go back to the old Asian lady. I did and she gave me the medicine. SUCCESS! Now let’s hope this is actually cough medicine and not Viagra! I thanked the ladies profusely and apologized for my Mandarin crapness. They told me not to worry and waved me goodbye. I was SO proud of myself, you have no idea!!! 3 weeks in Shanghai and I hadn’t been ANYWHERE without Bernard who actually knows how to pretend he knows Mandarin. His appearance also helps…

I continued on to the department store to pick up cleaning products (we’ve been in our apartment for a week and we’re convinced the last tenant never cleaned. It’s a gorgeous, bright, clean apartment; but in China, apparently if you don’t dust hourly, it’s like you live in a dinosaur fossil). So I went to the department store where I had even more entertaining encounters, but that’s another blog that I’ll write shortly.

Back to the cough medicine (I hope!).

I got home and opened the package of meds. It had a creepy, vacuum-sealed silver package that had a funny texture to it. I feared. I pulled out the instructions and stared at the Mandarin like a jackass because naturally I have no prayer knowing what it says. Then, the best thing in the world happened: I turned over the paper AND THERE WAS AN ENGLISH SIDE TO THE DIRECTIONS (image)! Thank Christ!!!!

So classic China: I kid you not, this medicine says

[Composition]: Guangdong earthworm (excuse me?!), dried human placenta (ZHE SHE SHEN ME, bitch?! “what is this?!”), and streptococcus and other weird science things THAT AREN’T WORM AND PLACENTA!

[Description]: Brown.

Thank you description. You are SO helpful.

Anyway, I’m really glad the medicine instructions were in English because it was vital to know these pills need to be taken after meals and one should take them 3 times a day. Good to know!

So I’m going to eat a red bean bun and down one of these bad boys. If I survive, I will write a blog about my hilarious adventures trying to buy Swiffer cloths! My Christ it was an ordeal. I figured that people would leave me alone because I’m some oblivious white chick who can’t speak Mandarin. NOPE! Quite the opposite. They won’t leave me alone! BU YAO!

So I bought medicine and luckily it’s for what I have, sort of: “used to cure relieve panting and simple chronic bronchitis”. Close enough. Sigh. Oh China. I need to learn Mandarin! CORRECTION: I need to learn how to UNDERSTAND Mandarin!!! That’s my problem. I say something confidently and they respond and I just go .____.

HAH! J Adventure time is ALL the time in Shanghai.

With love,

Sarah is-about-to-eat-earthworms-and-placenta Wun

Breaking Sad

Breaking Sad: An epic tale of bad days that made me so insane, I lost patience with sadness and became happy

A reflective tale about my experience teaching in Abu Dhabi, and its crazy ass 

By: Sarah Optimistic Wun

Living, teaching, and just existing in Abu Dhabi was hard. Everyone looked at me like I was an ugly celebrity; they wanted to look because hell, it’s a celebrity, but they looked with a slight hint of disgust because I was ugly or different or something. Nobody understood me. My whole life changed. Things had to change. I had to accept the roaches and the heat. I had to accept that my style of teaching would simply not work in the environment I was put into. I had to understand that things would not get done even if I wanted them to.

It was Christmas break. I took this opportunity to do absolutely nothing (I think I watched three seasons of the Bachelor on YouTube, I swear to you) and just be. Bernard and I housesat for friends who had a house 8000 times better than ours, so we pretended like we were vacationing there for the Christmas holidays. It was excellent. No work, no need to leave the house and face the scary Arabic world, no expectations, no need to hate oneself for napping on and off for 6 hours for two weeks straight. We both enjoyed the Christmas holiday. We did nothing, and I had learned to accept nothingness as a positive experience.

From September to December, I had been sucked into the busiest whirlwind of my life to date. Up at 6am, work with shrieking howler monkeys, stuff after work which consumed both my time and my sanity, and then generally a good cry which exhausted me and let me pass out into an unsettled sleep. As I sat in bed, my aching tired ass body ready to fall asleep instantly, but my brain would question everything: “Why did that kid say that today? Why did I do this this way today and not yesterday? Why isn’t anyone smiling? Why am I only happy for like an hour at the beginning of the day? How can I keep myself smiling even when dumb shit is happening constantly and everyone is complaining around me? How do I survive this? Am I a teacher? Not even a good teacher… just a teacher. Am I? Can I last? Is Bernard happy? Does he want to do this? Will this get better? Is this better? What will I eat tomorrow? Will I have a successful bowel movement tomorrow HAH shut up brain; we all know that isn’t a realistic ponderance. Idiot. Will I feel comfortable tomorrow? What should I eat? What shouldn’t I eat? HOW WHY WHAT BAAAHH?!?!?!”

So naturally, I didn’t sleep for about four months. Much like a new mother of octuplets, I didn’t sleep for months. It felt like years. So come Christmas holiday, I slept for like a decade and enjoyed every minute of my lazy ass routine of slumping out of bed into a big, comfortable couch, watching at least 4 episodes of The Bachelor, then eating and probably continuing to eat until I fell asleep. As I think about it now, I’m like EW SLOTH! But trust me, if you are an overseas teacher, you are not thinking sloth. You are thinking, bitch knows what she’s doing! Take ANY opportunity to escape from the hell that is lesson planning for a school that doesn’t know the meaning of the words lesson or planning and watch reality TV!

Anyway, this was approximately three months later. I was refreshed. I felt zen. I felt new and alive. I felt like I could do this. Around February of that year, the bank decided to just take a bunch of our money after we attempted to transfer some of it back home. The transfer didn’t work, so instead of being normal and saying, “You missed some info”, the bank was all like, “I’m going to steal your dirhams and you’re going to accept it BWAHAHAHA.” So I raged with the bank for months. Very little happened. A bunch of other things that I have blocked out happened. Lots of bad things happened. I started becoming accustomed to bad days with all things bad and thought this was excellent! Let me explain: If things were always bad, not only would my spine become stronger, but also, as an optimistic person, I KNEW a good day was around the corner! It always happens like that.

Nope.

My sunshine started to fade. I became irritable and I just didn’t care anymore. Period. I was so “happy” (read as: not incredibly sad) at the end of the day when I could go home to Bernard and we could lose ourselves in the beautiful world of the stupid Internet. I loved my shows and my funny videos. Whenever I had a really bad day, I’d come home and crawl into bed and Bernard would find a video of a puppy at the beach or something and show it to me.

I remember one of my worst days. I was in bed for hours. Bernard made a playlist of dog videos (puppies salsa dancing, pugs making adorable snorting sounds, malamute puppies crawling all over each other, shih tzus making hilarious faces, other cute baby animals taking baths and stuff….). Anyway, it took a good 20 minutes of videos for me to finally smile. That’s pretty outrageous. Generally, I smile immediately upon seeing a dog. For those of you who know me, it takes a lot for me to NOT be happy. I’m like a golden retriever. So when THIS happened, it was weird:

I’m going to guess it was March or April. We had been back at work for a few months after break, so naturally the high of the time off had worn off and everyone was pissed at everything. The kids were being assholes and I was trying my best to adopt my style of teaching and prove it was successful. When I failed to rock my smiley mchappy dance routine, I did a 180. I wore a long black skirt, a dark shayla, and a stern frown to work one day. I looked at my students. Correction: glared. I said, “Let’s go” in the most un-Sarah way possible, and I led them upstairs to class. I managed about an hour of hateful mcfrown pants until someone said something cute and I smiled. DAMN IT! I attempted my scariness in the hopes that it might actually succeed in making my students listen to me. When it didn’t work, I was beat. I couldn’t be myself and I couldn’t be the person that I didn’t think existed within me. My soul had been eaten by these kids, and worse, by the authority figures in the school. On two separate occasions, one of my kids stabbed another with scissors. Another time, someone peed on the floor. This happened three times. One of my students said he wanted me to die. My students are 6 and 7 years old!! Light fixtures fell from the ceiling. No one cared. I just about threw up my kidney when this happened. I began to worry about Bernard in the high school section! Were the girls eating him alive? Probably. Him and I would exchange, “I want to punch a baby right now I’m so angry” texts back and forth. It was becoming brutal.

All the angst of school and the admin and heads going “Yeah yeah yeah… get back to work. Who cares. No problem. Enshallah someone will help you…” was driving me to depression. I would wake up every morning dancing (because I always love the start of a new day and its unpredictability) and within a few hours be absolutely miserable. It was taking its toll. Mix that in with other life happenings that I could not control and I was just lost.

I sat at my desk one day while the kids were supposed to be doing seatwork. They were howling and just beating each other up and all that and I didn’t care. Another kid took out a pair of scissors (which they are not allowed to have, by the way) and started poking violently at another kid’s arm. “MIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSS!!” THIS I could not ignore. I called the office. They didn’t bat an eye. Finally, another teacher strolled into the class to teach the kids religion and I took the two boys down to the VP. I was shaking. As I type this, my heart is beating rapidly as I remember the feeling of HOWWHATWHYWHATISTHISIDON’TEVEN?! I marched them right into the office, waited for the conversation between her and someone to finish, sat patiently and respectfully as someone else barged in and interrupted me, waited again, and then started to explain. “Yes, yes, Ms. Sarah. You boys sorry? Okay, they will not do again.” I was livid. I stormed right out, the students in tow. They were terrified. I used this terror to my advantage and tried to speak to them about the matter. They didn’t give 67 shits and a flying fuck. It was useless for me to impart my words of wisdom…

I walked them back to class where they proceeded to act normally (aka like crazy ape children). I didn’t understand. I sat at my desk paralyzed. Tears began to form in my eyes. I went into my office (the tiny ass kitchen space in the bachelor apartment that was my classroom), and started losing breath. I was having a minor panic attack. I texted another teacher who I had become good friends with and said, “I need you now”. She came into my office and told me she would take me outside for air. She led me into the hall but I couldn’t wait until we got outside. I fell down and just lost it. The tears, the screaming, the panic, the dry heaves because I wasn’t eating properly because I couldn’t digest because of the stress. The pain. The weakness. The assistants came over and started freaking out. They tried to help me up and undo my shayla. The teacher ran and got another one of my friends, a badass teacher who I trusted and confided in. She came over and I said, “I can’t take this shit.” She smiled. She understood. I was told to go home. I said no. I went into the nurse’s office to lie down for a bit. She asked me what was wrong. I said I hated Abu Dhabi and complained to her. She said, “You from Canada? Why for you are here?! You go Canada if I were you.” I laughed. I felt like I was in a movie. I felt like I had made this decision to come work at this school, and that it was the wrong one and as punishment, I had to deal with bad days and shitty not-consequences for terrible behaviour, which I really couldn’t handle. The behaviour and zero discipline was my issue and the thing that ultimately led to me not wanting to return to AD at my school. I believe children should respect EVERYONE and violence is never something I expected to encounter in kids. And most of all, I never expected it to get brushed off. Twice.

I told the nurse I couldn’t handle this school and its idiocy, but I wanted to finish the day. After a few hours, I went upstairs to my class. Puffy eyes and a beat red face, I hobbled in like a 178 year old and stood tall. The substitute that they got for me (because I was clearly sick and had to leave work) looked at me like I was a ghost. She asked, “Are you sure you want to stay?!!” and I said yes. She took me into the office and told me I was doing great and that people cared about me. It felt really nice to hear her say she was proud of me for having a good cry (even if it was at work) and getting back at it. She was impressed that I didn’t give up.

It was a rough day, but I did it. I felt really weak and a little off my game, but gradually as the day continued, I felt better. I just taught my ass off. Every period, a teacher or an assistant would come in and say, “Are you okay? Do you need me?” and smile with pride when I said I’d be fine. Another teacher came in, pulled up a chair to my desk and said, “You know, you basically did what all of us are feeling. We’re all stressed and fed up with this place, and that needed to be shown. I’m glad you broke down. I’m glad you’re okay! But I’m glad you showed how it really is.” This made me feel great. I was epically embarrassed, panic attacking like a jackass in the middle of the hallway; but the assistants and other teachers were worried and concerned. It was very sweet. The kids and the heads didn’t give a shit, but you know what? Who cares! I didn’t need them. I felt much better. I felt like I needed to break down.

I continued feeling very weird and that if something terrible didn’t happen, I was uncomfortable with it. I was so used to having bad days that were so terrible they brought me to tears, so if the day was just bearable, I was uncomfortable with it. It became really easy to have a good day!! I’d come home and Bernard and I would get Subway and I’d be really happy. I’d go to work and I’d have a really cool idea for teaching addition and I’d be really happy. When the kids drove me to want to chainsaw my face off, I played music and danced around the room like a crazy maniac in order to keep myself smiling. Eventually, the kids started to come around and realized I wasn’t going to be sad anymore. I even told them, nope, won’t work! I’m too damn happy. I faked it and it made it almost real. When a kid tried to push my buttons, I’d laugh at him and be like, “HAH! No break for you! No art either! DO YOUR WORK!” and then walk away and ignore him for 20 minutes.

I literally felt so sad that happiness was something I felt I didn’t deserve. Sure, I had friends and we’d do things and it was excellent and I’d be really happy, but for a while I was very uncomfortable with this feeling of giddiness and excitement. I know it sounds weird but I seriously felt this way.

I remember the first time I had a decent bowel movement after months of discomfort and stress. Dude, I came out of the bathroom prancing, put on an upbeat song and literally danced. Then I started giggling with happiness and cried. Psycho? Yes. I was just so happy to be regular! Forgive me if that is TMI, but shut up! You know the feeling of happy digestion, and unfortunately I found it hard to digest whilst living in hell (AD) so suck it! Applaud my ability to feel ecstasy in a common body function.

The point of my insane ramblings is that good things come from bad things. It’s okay to be sad. Know that happiness is on its way because the sadness you feel will get tired of itself and peace. I promise.

If you’re having a bad day, think about what would happen if every day for months you had the worst day ever and you couldn’t “go”. Seriously. Then think about how you CAN “go” and how usually when you have a bad day, it gets better or it’s not all bad and life is actually pretty damn cool.

At the end of the day, I see it like this: I was in freaking Abu Dhabi, teaching and experiencing a new culture! I am the luckiest girl in the world! So many people would love that experience! I am very blessed to be able to have taught overseas and I’m really happy with how much I’ve grown and learned about myself that I otherwise would not have learned. What an experience! The good, the bad, and the ugly. And, of course, the beautiful. Abu Dhabi really is a beautiful place. I had to look hard, but I found it. Teaching is a beautiful profession and I applaud anyone who dares to get up every day and face a room full of animals, civilizing them into incredible members of a fast-paced, crazy ass world. Teachers. Sweet Jesus, we rock.

Oh, so I think this school is hiring. Who’s in? HAH! Didn’t think so. ;)

Keep shining,

Sarah HAPPINESS IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT, SWEET JESUS I’M SO HAPPY AND THERE’S NO REASON – WHY DO I NEED A REASON?! Wun