<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Thu, 24 Jul 2008 14:06:36 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Miss Gioia</title><description/><link>http://missgioia.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>271</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-7337326582151933743</guid><pubDate>Thu, 24 Jul 2008 13:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-24T21:52:41.529+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>life</category><title>A Modest Proposal</title><description>I'll be the first to admit that I am swimming in spam. In addition to all of the normal printer cartridge ink and astrology emails, apparently I am now on baby-related mailing lists too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened my email today and saw a message entitled: "Put your baby's face on M&amp;Ms." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/hdrContent-780353.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/hdrContent-780350.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/bdyMMs-764208.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/bdyMMs-764205.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here - eat my baby. Because that is a totally normal thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who in the world runs the marketing department at Mars, Incorporated these days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just so wrong.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/modest-proposal.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-513837033119419520</guid><pubDate>Wed, 23 Jul 2008 10:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-23T18:50:38.007+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Traveling</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>China</category><title>Drive Through Immigration</title><description>I had to fly to Shenzhen yesterday. Well, kind of. You still can't REALLY fly direct to China from Taiwan, so I flew to Hong Kong and then had a car drive me to the Shenzhen hotel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crazy thing about the journey was this: the immigration check-points are drive-through. As in, you hand your passport and immigration form through the car window - first on the Hong Kong side to leave and then on the China side to enter - and then smile really big while the officer looks at your picture and then at you and then at your picture...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five minutes, tops. And I didn't even have to get out and stand in the humid South China air. Um, yes, I would like an order of fries, a Big Mac, oh and permission to enter China please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/drive-through-immigration.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-8650735262313190783</guid><pubDate>Mon, 21 Jul 2008 08:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-21T16:17:26.785+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Taiwan</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>gardening</category><title>Butterfly on My Porch</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0815-722821.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0815-722819.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plants that my Dad and I planted in hanging baskets on the porch are full and lush now. I looked outside this afternoon and saw this ginormous butterfly. It is hard to get a sense of scale in this picture, but he was at least four inches wide. As I snuck outside to try to get a closer shot, he took off and flew around for a while. He looked almost like a little bat, all dark and fluttery.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/butterfly-on-my-porch.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-1993776638348826137</guid><pubDate>Sun, 20 Jul 2008 07:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-20T15:56:02.582+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>life</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Taiwan</category><title>Sweet Corn</title><description>I have been jonesing for some sweet corn lately. It is hard to find around here though. The last time we bought some fresh corn at a farmer's market, it turned out to be feed corn - all bland and chewy. I was bitterly disappointed. For the last two weeks, I have been quite depressed about the corn situation, even thinking through places when I could grown my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today as I walked home from yoga, I saw a nice lady selling corn. Tien de ma? Is it sweet? Of course, she says. Hmmmm. Which one is sweeter, the white or the yellow? Well, they are both sweet, she says. OK. Let's try again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0809-705631.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0809-705629.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what do you know, they were indeed sweet. Luscious summery sweet corn. We ate them ALL. Life is infinitely better now.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/sweet-corn.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-4347150049129574096</guid><pubDate>Mon, 14 Jul 2008 13:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-14T22:20:08.698+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>MissG</category><title>A Girl Needs Shoes, Doesn't She?</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0806-781796.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0806-781790.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a month ago, Chris came to me and said, "the credit card company just called. Did you really buy US$XXX.XX worth of shoes over the internet." Ummm, yes. Busted. But they were not for me. Oh no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought nine pairs for little Miss G in sizes 5.5 and 6, the next two sizes up. Oddly how they all seem to be different sizes now that I see them. One shoe is supposed to be a US6, but it is smaller than another shoe that purports to be a 5.5. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little shoes, all in a row. So cute.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/girl-needs-shoes-doesnt-she_14.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-3625014845649722262</guid><pubDate>Sun, 13 Jul 2008 11:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-13T19:06:41.831+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>MissG</category><title>Big Day</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0757-734211.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0757-734203.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gioia's daddy has been in the US all week for work, so it has been just the two of us (OK, and the nanny during working hours). Yesterday, we went to my friend's house to swim in her super phat pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a seemingly small thing - go to pool, swim - but it took a whole lot of effort. First, Miss G babbled in her crib for a whole hour at naptime and then slept for another hour, so we were miserably late even getting started. When we finally made it out the door, I struggled to find a taxi with seatbelts, install the carseat, get Gioia settled, and then get in myself so we could get going. Stupid me remembered later that I could have just called up our car guy and had him drive us around for the day. That would have been immeasurably easier.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it to the pool - albeit two hours later than promised - and had a fun time. The nice pool dude even blew up Gioia's floaty thing, so she was able to splash around with ease. She was much more comfortable in the pool this time, perhaps because she had so much practice in Indonesia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Costco next, to stock up on baby wipes and vittles. By the time we made it home, it was 6 p.m. We had missed Miss G's second nap and she was starting to lose it. I decided to lay her down in the crib for a quick cat nap. She slept, and slept, and slept. The catnap turned out to be "down for the night." Oops.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard to work it all out alone. How in the world to single parents do it? Wow. Hats off to ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;*We decided not to buy or lease a car here in Taiwan, primarily because it works out to be much cheaper to just rent a car and driver whenever we need it (which is usually for four hours or so on the weekend). But in order for this deal to work, I have to actually remember to hire the car service on days like these.&lt;/font&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/big-day.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-6674204066357235465</guid><pubDate>Sat, 12 Jul 2008 15:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-13T00:47:08.514+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>sewing</category><title>Bibs (again)</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0804-754315.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0804-754311.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is it that we have 5,421 bibs in this house, yet I cannot ever find a clean one at lunchtime? Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0797-764869.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0797-764864.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot be bothered to figure out this great mystery. Certainly no one would expect me to simply manage the clean bib stock. Tra la LA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0799-764926.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0799-764922.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead, I just made more bibs. You know, to have on hand. Because if we have 5,42&lt;b&gt;8&lt;/b&gt; bibs in the house, surely I will be able to find a clean one when I need it. Right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0801-729796.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0801-729792.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/bibs-again.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-3714763734773531724</guid><pubDate>Tue, 08 Jul 2008 12:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-08T20:27:41.706+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>MissG</category><title>Rash</title><description>Baby has pretty bad diaper rash.* Probably because it is four billion degrees in Taipei and humid as a rain forest. Poor thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the pleasure of staying home with Gioia today. The nanny's brother in-law passed away suddenly last night, so I told her to go be with her family. Kiddo and I had a nice little unexpected day. Every time I asked if she wanted to have her diaper changed, though, she would cry sadly. When I laid her down on the changing table, she looked up at me and made the baby sign for gentle. This happened two times today, so it was not a fluke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was (and still am) shocked by this. It makes sense when she uses signs back to us for concrete things, like cheerios or doggie. But "gentle" is a very abstract concept. Yes, we have been teaching her the sign for gentle for a few months now, mostly using it when she yanks my hair or bites her daddy's chest (ha ha). Goodness, doesn't it just seem crazy that my thirteen month old child can instruct me to be gentle when I am starting to change her diaper? It signals that a bunch of things are going through her brain. 1) Her bottom hurts. 2) If I touch it roughly, it will hurt more. 3) If she tells me to be gentle, I MAY HURT HER LESS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby G is sleeping bare-assed naked in her crib tonight in hopes of letting the fresh air heal her little bottom faster. I hope it works. I also hope she doesn't poop on Bunny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a crazy thing, to watch her grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;*No pictures on this post because........ewwwwwww....&lt;/font&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/rash.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-9180813050739571604</guid><pubDate>Tue, 08 Jul 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-08T08:00:00.698+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>MissG</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>adoption</category><title>Crazy Cakes</title><description>One of the foundational books in the Chinese Adoption cannon is &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-You-Like-Crazy-Cakes/dp/0316525383/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;qid=1215350953&amp;sr=8-1"&gt;I Love You Like Crazy Cakes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. Written by a lady who went through the China adoption experience, this book focuses on a single mom's trip to China and back again to adopt her daughter. Before we got Miss G, I thought it was a sweet little book. I still think it is sweet, but probably will not read it to her again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, as Gioia and I read &lt;i&gt;Crazy Cakes&lt;/i&gt; together before bed, I was struck at how personal the story was. It is written in a direct, clear voice - "Your nannies brought you and your friends from the countryside to the city to meet us." "On the long trip home, you stood up in your seat and smiled at the man behind us." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nice story, yes, but not our story. First of all, there is no Daddy. If there is one thing which is fundamental to our family's adoption story, it is the fact that Chris and I were both 100% participants in the process. He and I shared everything about that trip, from the day we received Baby G's first photos to the three and a half weeks of traveling to bring her home to Taiwan. We fought over carrying her in the mei tai, and traded off rocking her back to sleep when she filled her diaper at 3 a.m. Single parenting is fine, of course, but not our story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I read through the book, the small details that were not quite right kept leaping out at me. Baby G, you slept in a pack and play that we carted from hotel to hotel so we could establish consistency in your bedtime routine. You did not sleep with linens from America, but in a sleep sack that your mommy made and a little elephant from Bangkok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we finally made it home, we opened the door to our apartment in Taipei and collapsed in a pile of suitcases. We did not have a welcome committee of family and friends that first day, but they all came to see you over the next four months - one by one, flying 24 hours just to meet you, hug you and say hello.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;This was your adoption day story, not the one in the &lt;i&gt;Crazy Cakes&lt;/i&gt; book. I was perhaps so bothered by it all because little Gioia seemed to be listening so seriously to the story. Here I was, saying things like - and then we dressed you up in crazy hats and took funny pictures. But we didn't. And I don't want to tell you a story that is not yours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe when you are much, much older Baby G. But for now, I will put this book away and instead tell you your story.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/crazy-cakes.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-2893141441447063038</guid><pubDate>Sun, 06 Jul 2008 12:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-06T20:58:58.479+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Taiwan</category><title>Sweaty</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0693-773138.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0693-773129.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are so freaking hot here, it is unbelievable. Our wimpy air conditioning has gotten even worse over the last month. Now we don't even bother running it at all because there is no point. We have had numerous technicians tromp through the apartment, had twenty years of dust blown out of all of the vents (at our own expense), installed ceiling fans (at our own expense), and sent a couple of really strongly worded emails to the rental agent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have heard all sorts of stories, from "it will be fixed on Monday" to "there is some cold air coming out." Chris finally snagged a true air conditioning guy, the same person who has been replacing units in this building for 10 years. He took one look at our units and said - yep. Those are 22 years old. They are highly inefficient, which explains why our aircon fees are 8 times higher than anyone else in the building yet we are still sweaty. Apparently everyone else in the building has replaced their original units, but not our landlord. No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we have four options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Do nothing and be miserable this summer and next (and maybe longer, but that is a story for another day).&lt;br /&gt;2) Buy new air conditioning units at our own expense (about US$5,000).&lt;br /&gt;3) Try to convince the landlord to pay for at least a part of the replacement fee. He probably would cough up about a grand, but that still leaves a crazy chunk for us to pay for an apartment that we do not own.&lt;br /&gt;4) Buy some stand-up air conditioning units which we could maybe move around the apartment as we got hot. Seems like a lot of bother though. And we already have a ton of ugly electric devices lurking in corners around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottom line, though, is that something must be done. Chris works out of the apartment most days, and he simply cannot continue in that sweltering office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In more cheerful news, some good friends of ours are getting married in Tuscany next May AND WE GOT INVITED. To a three day celebration. In a castle. In Tuscany (did I mention?)</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/sweaty.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-7545574946714238428</guid><pubDate>Fri, 04 Jul 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-04T08:00:34.166+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>life</category><title>Funny</title><description>From terminal 2 at the Taipei international airport: Want some gruel with your noodles?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0366-718021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0366-718016.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the Bintan real estate office: Want to buy some property? We are all out of real luxury homes, but we have great luxury "style" homes on offer. Interested?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0732-718069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0732-718066.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the downtown tourist trap shopping area: Hello. HELLO!? Want some food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0734-747406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0734-747372.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/funny.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-7330380583227375701</guid><pubDate>Wed, 02 Jul 2008 12:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-02T21:07:37.352+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Traveling</category><title>Bintan</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0404-704260.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0404-704257.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a conference in Singapore this week, so we decided to go a few days early as a family and catch some rays at the beach. Man, did ever I need it. We landed in Sinagpore and then took a 45 minute ferry to a little island in Indonesia called &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bintan"&gt;Bintan&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed at the &lt;a href="http://www.banyantree.com/en/bintan/index.html"&gt;Banyan Tree&lt;/a&gt;, which was very, very pleasant. Even though the resort had a capacity of 150 people and was completely booked, we almost never saw anyone. Maybe they were all off playing golf. Or maybe the resort was just so well designed that we seemed to be secluded. Either way, it was a good thing we did not run into many people because little Miss G was SUPER cranky the first two days. When Chris ran to town for milk and diapers, the people at the front desk said "Is your baby still crying?" Ummm, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0691-701736.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0691-701730.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she soon cheered up. The sand was a big hit, but the ocean... not so much. She was like a little monkey, clawing her hands up my sunburned back in fear of being dumped and left in the sea. She finally relaxed a bit, once she figured out that floating in the pool in her inflated baby tube was quite pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0545-702447.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0545-702441.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pictures of our little beach trip are &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/chrisbeuk/Bintan"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0403-704212.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0403-704176.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/07/bintan.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-468756543980540322</guid><pubDate>Wed, 25 Jun 2008 00:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-25T08:15:00.936+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Frankie</category><title>When I Get Out of  Bed</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0360-775136.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0360-775132.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I see every morning when I come back from my shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the days that I take Frankie downstairs to pee pee, we walk past the guard at the front door. There are three guards who rotate watch duty. One is very very quiet, barely nodding as we go past. Another guard is quite old and mumbles only in Taiwanese. We cannot understand a word he says. The third guard is my favorite. He is always happy and smiling. He exclaims "Mei mei!" every time he sees Gioia and makes her smile so big. Anyway, this guard, my favorite guard, is trying desperately to get Frankie to notice him. When we walk past on our way out or in, he shouts "Flankie...FLANKIE!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Frankie never looks his way. I keep trying to encourage him to go over and say hi, or to even just turn his head and acknowledge the guard. But no. Apparently "Flankie" is just too different. It is hard to capture my fur baby's very short attention span.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/when-i-get-out-of-bed.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-6297863326562757084</guid><pubDate>Tue, 24 Jun 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-24T08:00:06.046+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>life</category><title>College Savings: How much is too much?</title><description>We started saving for Miss G's college education in 2005, before we moved to China. I signed up for a &lt;a href="http://www.upromise.com"&gt;Upromise&lt;/a&gt; account, a &lt;a href="http://www.savingforcollege.com/intro_to_529s/what-is-a-529-plan.php"&gt;529 account&lt;/a&gt;, and a credit card* which allocated a percentage of spending back into the kitty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we have been regularly making deposits and that little 529 account has grown. But I wonder - how much is enough? How much is right? There is an easy way to start thinking about the answer - plenty of &lt;a href="http://apps.collegeboard.com/fincalc/college_savings.jsp"&gt;calculators&lt;/a&gt; exist to help people work through the time value of money problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But solving math equations is not my issue. I really am struck by the question of how much we as parents should be contributing to her education. Do we save enough to pay for all of a four year Ivy league degree in 2025? Or do we save enough for half of in-state tuition at a public school? What if she wants to do a gap year hiking in the mountains of Peru? How does that affect our estimated outlays? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the thing: I opted for an in-state school over an expensive private school for undergrad. I chose free tuition and a monthly stipend over a fancy name. I also became an RA after my first year because it came with free housing. Am I worse off in life because I didn't go to Duke? Or am I better off because I chose the in-state school and paid my own way? Perhaps I am innately a practical person who works hard, someone who would have succeeded** regardless of the school? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riddle me this - If I had had a bank account in my name ready for the spending, would that have impacted my school choice? If so, would I have been better or worse off by going a different route? Would it have impacted my character, my work ethic, my drive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much should we save? Not an easy thing to decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;*Although spending to save is kind of stupid, but makes sense somehow. I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Have I even succeeded? Defining success is a whole other discussion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/college-savings-how-much-is-too-much.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-6539071099740891603</guid><pubDate>Mon, 23 Jun 2008 03:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-23T12:03:56.801+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Taiwan</category><title>DanShui</title><description>&lt;a href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/IMG_0140-759035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/IMG_0140-759031.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Mom's last day in Taipei, we took a quick trip up to &lt;a href="http://wikitravel.org/en/Danshui"&gt;DanShui&lt;/a&gt;. It was hot as fire, so my impressions of the little town at the far north end of the subway line may not be as favorable as they could have been were I not dripping with sweat from every pore of my pasty white body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Gioia paid for tea, so that was good. About time she started earning her keep around here.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/IMG_0277-758993.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/IMG_0277-758985.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pictures from the day are &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/chrisbeuk/DanShui"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;*That's a joke, y'all.&lt;/font&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/danshui.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-7841289007757562204</guid><pubDate>Sat, 21 Jun 2008 11:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-21T19:53:23.600+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Taiwan</category><title>Yingge</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0689-778343.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0689-778338.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a little trip to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yingge_Township"&gt;Yingge&lt;/a&gt; today, which is a small town about forty minutes outside of Taipei. Yingge is famous for its ceramics and pottery. I went with low expectations, actually, but was pleasantly surprised at how nice it was. I thought it would be store after store selling little brown teapots (like &lt;a href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_9858-784449.jpg"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt;). Instead, the stores had a varied selection of low to high end items, from teapots and bowls to beautiful bronze art pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0670-749596.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0670-749592.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a fabulous lunch in a little modern cafe. We liked the &lt;a href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0620-735506.jpg"&gt;water mugs&lt;/a&gt; so much that we bought them right off the table. Gotta love China (I mean, Taiwan). Everything is for sale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun was bright and hot, but we cooled down by dipping into stores and sampling the air-conditioning. The town's famous ceramics museum was closed, but we had plenty of fun just wandering up and down the "old" street. More pictures from today's outing are &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/chrisbeuk/Yingge"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0660-749550.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0660-749544.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/yingge.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-1861319229072220099</guid><pubDate>Thu, 19 Jun 2008 02:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-19T10:16:45.501+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Taiwan</category><title>Mr. Ma</title><description>Holy crap! Full speed &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/19/world/asia/19taiwan.html"&gt;ahead&lt;/a&gt;.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/mr-ma.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-7316079244743999557</guid><pubDate>Wed, 18 Jun 2008 14:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-18T22:15:19.027+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family</category><title>My Momma</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0501-708962.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0501-708958.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is here! She flew all the way to Taipei to meet little Miss G. They have already played with balls, put blocks "in" and "out," read books, hugged new bunnies (for the record - she definitely knows the difference), and changed diapers. In sum, kiddo and Grandma have had all sorts of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom went to the &lt;a href="http://www.npm.gov.tw/en/home.htm"&gt;National Palace Museum&lt;/a&gt; today to view the &lt;del&gt;stolen&lt;/del&gt; &lt;del&gt;borrowed&lt;/del&gt; re-housed &lt;a href="http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?sec=travel&amp;res=9A0DE1DB1230F931A25752C0A960948260"&gt;treasures&lt;/a&gt;. When she came back, Gioia broke into a big smile, clapped her hands and asked to be picked up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good day, surely.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/my-momma.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-7647033021238265313</guid><pubDate>Mon, 16 Jun 2008 14:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-16T22:55:24.806+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Barack</category><title>Priceless</title><description>Just ordered on &lt;a href="http://www.cafepress.com/buy/barack+obama/-/pv_design_prod/p_2641969.183591269/pNo_183591269/id_23247863/fpt_eX_a___B___C__a__b6H_PD__eah__lS/opt_/c_666/pg_3"&gt;Cafe Press&lt;/a&gt; and shipped to my parents' home for Chris to pick up in July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/jitcrunch.aspx-749889.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/jitcrunch.aspx-749886.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barack Obama onesie - $14.99&lt;br /&gt;Economy shipping - $5.00 &lt;br /&gt;Look on my John McCain-supporting Dad's face when he opens the package:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Priceless.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/priceless.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-1634890220548398463</guid><pubDate>Sun, 15 Jun 2008 23:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-16T07:50:55.533+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>sewing</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Swap</category><title>Received!</title><description>&lt;a href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0428-789127.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0428-789124.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My doll quilt from the Lemonade Stand Swap arrived while we were in Beijing last week. I came back home to a mailbox stuffed full of goodies. This sweet little quilt has a snuggly, vintage feel. Such fun fabrics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0422-789094.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0422-789091.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was wonderful, just wonderful, to receive this little gem at the end of such a fun swap process. In addition, my lovely swap partner sent some other goodies, including this great doll she found on Etsy. Gioia approves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0313-711042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0313-711039.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks so much &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/forsara/"&gt;S&lt;/a&gt;. I love it. You did a great job!</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/received.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-5379442226311617482</guid><pubDate>Sun, 15 Jun 2008 12:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-15T21:05:06.954+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>MissG</category><title>Father's Day</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_4994-785124.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_4994-785118.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris, you are a wonderful Father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_5882-745856.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_5882-745796.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Daddy's Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_5789-779559.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_5789-779556.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/fathers-day.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-7790165153184020809</guid><pubDate>Sat, 14 Jun 2008 13:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-14T21:47:46.233+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>MissG</category><title>Bunny (again)</title><description>&lt;a href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0278-721966.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0278-721962.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several of you States-side peeps offered to keep your eyes out for the elusive bunny. Even if it all comes to naught, I am so tickled that people are willing to help a little bitty girl who lives so far away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here he (she?) is, admitedly a little more worn out than a brand new one. Originally, this bunny had a super soft fuzzy fleece exterior, with slightly darker soft fur in the ears and feet. Bunny is approximately 12 inches high from his toes to his head (ears not extended).&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0267-721928.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0267-721925.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone finds another bunny, I'll happily pay for any and all associated acquisition and transportation costs.  Such sweet internet friends you all are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pictures from today's photo shoot are &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/chrisbeuk/GioiaSBunny"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/bunny-again.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-4303635236783911517</guid><pubDate>Mon, 09 Jun 2008 01:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-09T09:00:02.673+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>MissG</category><title>More Bunnies... Must Have More Bunnies!</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0045-714531.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0045-714528.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gioia has been sleeping with a little, soft bunny rabbit. My mom brought it as a gift for Gioia when she and my Dad visited us in Beijing for Christmas in 2006. When we first met Baby G, she was pretty indifferent to her sleeping companions. She needed something to suck on, yes, but was not concerned if we substituted the elephant for the Waldorf baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently much has changed. We - stupid parents that we are - decided to wash the bunny today. Because it was stinky. Because we are all going to Beijing tomorrow and we thought it would be a good idea to take a clean rabbit on the journey. Surely we can give her another rabbit to fall asleep with tonight. Or the elephant. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my gracious, were we ever wrong. She cried and cried. The bunny was still in the dryer, so we rocked her for the longest time. Chris burned his hand checking on the bunny in the dryer early in the crying episode. Still wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what finally calmed her down? Yeah. Only the bunny. When he was finally dry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as she fell asleep, I scoured the internet to find more bunnies. But hey - guess what? Pottery Barn no longer carries that exact type of bunny. I even checked Ebay sellers. No luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered two new PBK bunnies that look semi-close, but aren't exactly her bunny. How much you wanna bet she will know the difference? I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please Lord, do not let us lose this bunny.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/more-bunnies-must-have-more-bunnies.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-4372750299222798312</guid><pubDate>Sun, 08 Jun 2008 00:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-08T08:32:01.398+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Taiwan</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>holiday</category><title>Dragon Boat Festival</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_9963-770107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_9963-770102.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragon_Boat_Festival"&gt;Dragon Boat festival&lt;/a&gt; in Taipei. Long, long ago an ancient poet threw himself into the river to protest the corrupt Chinese government of the day. The local people were so upset that they threw rice in the river to keep the fish from eating his body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This festival is celebrated with much enthusiasm in Hong Kong and Taiwan. On the Mainland, however, it was one of the traditional celebrations which was encouraged to  "fall away." Perhaps because the whole point of the festivities was celebrating people who stood up against the government. Not good. But this year, China decided to bring it back as an official holiday.Maybe they are feeling more secure in their one party rule. Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dragon Boat festival is marked by two main things: serious boat races and steamed rice cakes wrapped in banana leaves (&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zongzi"&gt;zongzi&lt;/a&gt;). We went to the river front yesterday to watch the semi-finals of the boat races. I forgot to bring the telephoto lens, so I didn't get any great boat shots. But it was cool to see the racers, all paddling in unison to the drumbeat of the leader in the front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0021-731182.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0021-731178.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great time at the riverfront. Frankie panted, Gioia walked around (with help from Daddy), and I got sunburned. All in all a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0015-731142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://missgioia.com/uploaded_images/img_0015-731139.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pictures &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/chrisbeuk/DragonBoatFestival"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/dragon-boat-festival.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8302808674976115290.post-1204812456342068384</guid><pubDate>Sat, 07 Jun 2008 12:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-07T20:30:04.292+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>MissG</category><title>She Loves to Swing</title><description>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://picasion.com/pic2/4cdf8b894e651bf0987e281fd61e3aa9.gif" width="300" height="200" border="0" alt="make avatar" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;</description><link>http://missgioia.com/2008/06/she-loves-to-swing.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca)</author></item></channel></rss>