Lessons Learned – As of Late

Replacing the formulaic response of sorry with thank you in most situations does wonders for interpersonal relationships.

It’s more than okay to say no, and remembering this will ensure less anxiety.

Coldplay, with every new album and song, still gets me.

Continue to care less and less about gaining acceptance.

Don’t ever give up.

“Getting it together” takes time. Chiseling at the “it,” bit by bit.

Not sticking to my editorial calendar hurts no one but me.

Avoid using 微博 for movie-watching inspiration, instead rely on thorough research, recommendations, and the power of a Google search.

Getting wrapped up in politics, gossip, material wealth, and situations beyond one’s control only hinder personal growth.

Positive intent, it’s all about assuming positive intent. Negativity feeds insolence.

Listen to more podcasts; the delightful assortment I’m plugging into includes Popup Chinese’s Sinica, The China History Podcast, and Mortified.

According to one of the more horrid “films” I watched for ten minutes,  I am attracting all that comes our way, including the windshield cracking of its own accord on Thursday, and winning ipenstore’s paws fountain pen giveaway last month.

Watching classic films will never lead you astray in terms of delighting you with its cinematic experience.

Accept what comes, deal with it, and then let it go.

And, Happy last night of Hanukkah to those who celebrate. Happy Holidays to all!


Three Reasons for Yangxifu Pride

It’s a mixed bag of reactions whenever I declare I’m a yangxifu, foreign wife/bride, at least in the United States. As a possibly necessary disclaimer, I do not inform acquaintances merely by translating into English, but may mention my husband is Chinese.

Self-identifying as a 洋媳妇 in China would always illicit positive responses, especially from the taxi drivers who mistook my nationality, identifying me as Russian. Many saw nothing out of the ordinary in a Russian woman marrying into a Chinese family.

I mesmerize millennials and many, but not all, of my peers, when I disclose my husband’s nationality. They get caught up in “the trans-national romance,” many having been abroad understanding the subtle nuances of creating lasting bonds, perhaps not as lasting as mine.

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