That's my steed.



That was a video of what it looks like to ride a bike in Beijing on a Saturday morning. No traffic, really, in this video. I wouldn't risk a one-handed bike ride in actual traffic.

I took other pictures today, but I am too impatient to upload them.

T

Call me Ishmael...

I've got a few things to talk about:
1. Christmas
2. Loving people
3. Getting my teacher canned
4. Talking to some friends for the first time since June
5. Investing in people
6. Chinese classes
7. Japanese words based on English words that make me laugh

(No, 2 and 5 are not the same.)

I wasn't going to write in that order, but now that it's in type, I might just as well.

Christmas is coming... sort of. China's department stores are decked out in snowflakes and glittery garlands. They are blaring instrumental music designed to make Asians nostalgic for a holiday they don't celebrate. It's weird, and it's sad. My hand is way up. Ask me about Christmas!

Since Christmas is coming and I'm a celebrant, I'd like to address the obvious(ly American) issue. Presents. Now, it's silly to expect a tree with gifts tidily wrapped and stockings stuffed with candy and fruit and little gifts. And really I don't expect gifts at all. Seriously. However, I will make a request. If you're in the mood to share some holiday cheer, there is something I'd like. I want people to send me the books that have most challenged their lives, impacted their thinking, and shaped the way they view the world. It can be a novel or a philosophy book or a book about the physics. Whatever you please. Just buy a cheap copy and mail it to me with some sort of explanation of why you would send me that book. Don't tell me what it says, just let me know what you got out of it. I'm asking for this nontraditional gift, because, let's face it, this isn't going to be a traditional Christmas. I've got school on the day itself.

also, the Trace's spring vacation fund is now accepting donations, please inquire privately...

Loving people/getting my teacher canned. Today was the last day for my Tingli (Listening) professor. My best understanding is that midterm grades for her classes were too low. She got fired mid-semester. Now, I know I complain about her. I just don't like the class. But she got fired! That would never have been my intention, and I certainly never reported her or anything. So today was her last day, and my class gave her a bouquet of flowers and a framed collage of pictures of the students in the class and a group photo. The woman cried a little bit right there in class. She's probably 23. A 23 year-old woman in China has been fired from her job. She is no doubt a graduate student doing her student-teaching. What happens to someone in that position? I mean, it's back to the drawing board, I assume. At least for remediation. And it occurred to me that she probably didn't cry because she was being fired. Yes, I know that's part of it. She cried because we showed her love in spite of her apparent shortcomings. That happens far, far too infrequently in this hard world. I'd say in China especially, but I doubt there's much grace in the American corporate landscape. How do we show people we love them even when we don't like how they are doing things? A word or two of encouragement would have been a good thing. We always say "Thank you, Teacher" at the end of class, but that has the weight of an "excuse me" when you bump into someone. It's just what you say. This whole happening is making me think a lot about how I act to my peers and my superiors. We're all invested in this thing, whatever it is.

Today I chatted on Skype with some friends back at the good old U of CA. They found me randomly and wanted to chat. I was surprised and pleased to hear from them. They told me the usual things, like "Things aren't the same without you," etc. And I am tempted to believe at least a modicum of it. It makes me feel good to be missed, which may be selfish, but I'm ok with that. I asked why they were up, and the response I got made me remember why I miss them so much: "I have a physics test, and E. is eating cookies." That's not necessarily funny by itself, but the idea that one of them is up at 3 a.m. studying, and the other is up to eat cookies made me laugh out loud in Starbucks. She really, honestly, probably was just up because she wanted to eat cookies. There is a childlike attitude in that particular friend that I miss. Suffer the little children and that jazz, I think. Other things in the conversation include them telling me that the one I was talking to directly had switched her major from Pre-Med to Philosophy. It was a total lie, but it was funny because for a moment I believed it. And she asked if I was seriously believing her. I told her she might have become my coolest friend, but she lost the chance there and then. I don't think she was phased.

Investing in people is perhaps the biggest thing that can happen between two individuals. This is something I've learned through trial and error. Mostly error, though I don't think I'm alone in this. I went to a smallish meeting of friends last night, and I talked to some of the guys there that I've talked to a few times before. Nothing serious. I realized, though, in the time I spent with them last night, that I was being invested in. Now, I realize that economic metaphors make for bad relationship explanations, but it is the best way to explain it I can think. This guy went out of his way to let me know that he was glad I was there, and that I was--not important, but appreciated. It only takes a little of that attitude to make a person want to spend more time with you. I'll be back next week, doubtless. This is sadly contrasted in my life with people who have had the opportunity to do the same, and, in spite of time upon time, have failed. I know that personality accounts for some of this, but I think intentionality also plays a big role. I in no way intend to say that I've never been invested in, rather, I've been invested in many times, and perhaps my expectations are high. To turn the pointy end on myself now, I should fairly say that I hardly ever intentionally invest in people. When I do, it takes copious time. I like to do it, and I try. Now I need to get out there and really do it. Put your hand on someone's shoulder. Ask them about what they did last weekend. Then ask more. And listen for real, don't just nod and smile. Remember their names, give a nickname. Send a text message.

I don't like the phrase "love on" someone. To me you can only verb + "on" someone if you're rubbing or throwing up or something else unsavory. It's weird, and that's my piece.

Chinese classes are getting better. Today's quiz went remarkably better than they have before. My teacher didn't take it up, though, and I told him he'd like to see mine. He told me to hold on to it, and that I'd get to write on the blackboard next quiz time. I'm not entirely excited about that, but I am about learning to write and read.

Japanese has words from English, just like every other language has trans-linguistic cognates. The funny one is the Japanese word for food court, which I learned today. Brooke, dear, forgive me and my spelling, but it sounds like "food-a-court-u" said in a fast, Spanish-y clip. I laughed out loud when my Japanese classmate told me that.

Just thought I'd tell you what's on my mind.

T

I had something to say earlier. I've forgotten.

Today I'm going to meet with my conversation partner. This is exciting, especially since we haven't met in what seems like forever, but is actually about three weeks. I hope all goes well. We're just getting tea, so I'm sure it will be fine.

Our fearless, germophobic friend, DC, had street food last night with the Professor. It was a date, methinks. We're very proud that she 1.) spent time alone with the Professor and 2.) ate street food. The likelihood for death from either is fairly high. Actually, that's not true. Street food is pretty safe. I just wanted her to get her credit for trying chuanr and the crepe that I lovingly call "Chinese Breakfast Burrito."

Living in Beijing I've developed a persistent cough. I really think that either I'm sick with the lowest grade of walking pneumonia or it's the air pollution. I'm annoyed by its persistence and how it makes me seem like a chain smoker.

I find that in China I need to remember to be Jell-o. If good things are to happen, I might just have to jump on somebody else's train. At least at first, you know? I want to be involved in people's lives, to invest, and to see positive reactions. I hope that I am doing this already. I need to be a good steward of my time here and the opportunities that I have here. I hope I have been thus far, but perspective is hard to come by. I am in the process of refining my goals and putting them to paper. This seems a wise exercise and I only wish I could take credit for it.

Is it already the end of November? Where have these months gone?

T

By the by, it looks like I'll be going to Thailand before Cambodia. If you'd like to just mail me your professional grade digital camera, I'd take it.

Last night was Dinner-on-a-Stick Night. We walked around our area and bought as much street food as possible. It was great. In the process I ate my first "chuanr" which is food on a stick. It looks like this: 串, and you can find signs made out of ropelights hanging all over the place in that shape. So we just followed the chuanr signs. It's really "chuan" but in Beijing they throw "r" on the end of almost anything ending with an "n" sound.

Also, last night we accidentally stumbled upon a prostitution alleyway. Awkward. We kept our heads down and walked quickly. These girls were dressed skankily and sitting in lighted windows in an unlit alley. It was so weird that that is only 6 blocks from where we live. For the record, I think prostitution is probably one of the grossest things in the whole world.

Derick, the Professor, Cowboy, and I did this street food night. Then Cowboy departed from us, and we remaining people went and saw Lust Caution at a movie theater. It was the China-edited version, so if there were naughty bits, they have been expertly removed by the People's Republic. And since it was an Ang Lee movie, I think there probably were naughty bits. The movie was kind of slow. And not too great. Not bad, but not that good. It was about a woman intentionally becoming a man's mistress so that her friends could assassinate him and stop the movement he was involved in within the Chinese government. It was a good storyline, it just moved slowly. I understood a little of the dialogue, which was nice. There were English and Chinese subtitles at the bottom of the screen, too. The movie had parts spoken in Mandarin, Cantonese, Shanghainese (yeah, they have their own dialect), English, and Arabic. Therefore, probably no one in the little teatre understood what was being said all the time. Real cool, Ang.

Thanksgiving was not bad here in China. I went out with some friends to a hotel restaurant where there was a traditional American turkey dinner on buffet. It was alright, though I think nothing can replace being with family for Thanksgiving. I also sort of got to video call my family at my sister's house for the holiday, which was a nice consolation.

Tomorrow night I'm going to see an acrobatics show! I got free tickets from the school. How cool is that? Contorted Chinese people? Sign me up! Haha. No, I hear the acrobatics shows here are amazing. I'm excited about it. We'll see how it goes.

Now time for Thanksgiving 2.0.

T

This is funny, and for one brief moment, YouTube is working in China.


Today a Chinese man sat at my table at lunch and sketched me. It was awkward at first, but then it became really cool as I saw my face emerge. The waitress approved of the sketch. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep it, because it was on the back of an important piece of paper. How cool is that, though?

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Except in China it's not, because they don't care about Thanksgiving.

I'm excited about going to Cambodia for the winter. Pretty much super-excited. I need plane tickets and a visa.

I guess that's all I want to talk about right now.

T

Jaws!

This past weekend the Professor, Cowboy, and I house-sat for DC. Well, really, she let us stay at her place for the weekend after our midterms. We ate lots of junk food and watched lots of movies (in English!) and basically did nothing. It was nice. The Professor had something to prove (little man syndrome, methinks), so he kept provoking me to attack him. I had to wrestle him to the floor or bed more times than he'd like to admit. We're both a little sore, and Cowboy is still amused. He just watched, mostly.

During this weekend of slovenliness, Cowboy and I went to Sam's Club. Yes, that Sam's Club. Even in China people like to buy their toilet paper and powdered milk in bulk. We were shopping for groceries and toiletries. Sam's Club cards are international, by the way, and Cowboy's card from Mississippi worked in Beijing. Go figure. So we shopped and shopped. It was traumatic. Sam's sells lots lof live things. Like eels and seaturtles and big happy fish. Well, they're happy until the worker takes them behind the counter and uses all of her 92 pound body to slam the fishes' heads into the floor to kill them. I was tramatized for sure. I just saw a fish in a net, and then I heard a huge thud. Also at China Sam's: sharks. Filleted and still angry about being dead. They were staring at me from the big ice bank. I admit that Sam's is an adventure. It also provides most of the criteria for being diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.

I got my midterm grades back. They weren't good. I passed, but just barely. I hate that, because I am so used to making good grades. I wish that I could read and write. The speaking part went well. Some moments I really hate school. Speaking of which, my class was ridiculous today. The teacher was going to give us a break and give us a quiz tomorrow on 18/36 words from the new chapter. So the work would be split into two different quizzes instead of one. The students said no. They would rather keep going fast so they can make sure to reach the last chapter on time. So tomorrow we have a quiz on all 36 new words. I was livid, because I'm the one in the class who could maybe maybe learn 18 characters tonight. But 36? No. Not at all. I'll study, to be sure, but I won't learn them all. I can't learn 36 Chinese characters in one night.

Ok, time to stop whining about the fact of my life. Sherman is coming to visit me! Well, actually, probably not, but still, it's pretty cool. I'm excited.

T

Crosswords and Crosswalks and things like Chemistry

I got my grant request submitted! Hooray! So now it's just a waiting game. But at least I got that done! I'm so glad it's finished, and not a day too soon.

My two midterms today went decently. I did the best I could, and that's all anybody can ask. I passed them, for sure, though my actual grades are hard to predict. I have some more stuff tomorrow. Then... and oh the glory of "then...", a nice, relaxing weekend with no homework. That's the least they can do, I feel.

Here's a picture taken in a friend's room down the hall. These ladies have since abdicated, but it's still the building I live in. Now, remember the talk about our crazy bathrooms and whatnot? This is what can happen!

Don't let mushrooms happen to you.

After my morning test and before my afternoon one, The Professor, Cowboy, Bernie, and Nietzche accompanied me to Lush, which is a really decent restaurant. It's open all night, by the way, though we've never been in the middle of the night. Anyway, we got a late breakfast, and it was delicious. Scrambled eggs, hash browns, toast, bacon, coffee... and a grilled tomato. I don't understand the tomato. Anyway, it was good. Cowboy had purchased a China Daily, which is the English-language newspaper of the PRC. Yet he wouldn't share the crossword puzzle with us. So I went down to drop my own 10 cents on one, and in so doing almost missed the bus back. Not that another wouldn't come, but it was a thrill to run with Nietzche to the bus stop and get there just in time. On the bus we worked on our crossword puzzle without Cowboy's help, thank you very much. It's not done, but neither is his. And we had more fun, I think.


If it's true that the soul is nourished by living in community, I think maybe that is part of the problem I've been experiencing. However, forcing oneself to build new relationships with strangers is difficult. I don't particularly like doing it. It's awkward. But maybe my own discomfort is not the point. I guarantee it, actually. This life isn't a play about me. So what is my hesitation to forge bonds with others? Why do I feel like they need to reach out to me all the time? I think maybe I expect to be invited into some imaginary group. My claim to a group of stranger's attention or affection or companionship or what have you is just as legitimate as anyone else's. That's something that seems bizarre, really. I need to start making that a reality in my mind. (That means I'm gonna have to actually put myself out there. Boo.)

Ok, time to go home and meet Cowboy for dinner. We're going to a place called 太坪饺子馆. They have tasty foods. I think that second character may be wrong, but who's going to correct me? Haha. It's supposed to be ping3, but I don't know if it's the right one, and I don't remember.

T

I have two mid-terms tomorrow. They should go alright. I've been studying for them. Well, one of them. The other is listening, and I'm not sure how to study for that other than be able to write what you're hearing. I've got another one on Friday, and then for a weekend to forget about the midterms.

Tonight we're going out for what is supposed to be the best pizza in Beijing. This place also touts Belgian beer, though I think we'll leave that alone.

I'm so ready for this week to be over so I don't have to dread the tests anymore. I guess all this studying does me good in the long run, but I really wish they'd test us periodically and not just twice a semester. It's unnerving.

My roommate will heretofore be referred to as The Professor because of his propensity for buying books and thinking that blazers with elbow patches are cool. I've decided that just calling him my roommate is boring. Also, my American friend is now to be called Cowboy. Because he's kind of a good ol' boy without being the bad things that necessarily entails. Among these I'm the one who doesn't shoot guns often or pee with the door open or sleep until 3. I shower at the same time every day and own scarves.

I guess we're all different. I feel like having an uncomfortable conversation with someone. Not bad uncomfortable, just beyond surface level, and not about ancient texts. I want to talk to someone about the use of color in What Dreams May Come or the meaning of the title in its original context in Hamlet. I want someone to engage with me about the things I love. But neither The Professor nor Cowboy are versed in these things, and I can't fault them for that. I wish someone else knew who Julie Tamor is. Heck, I'd settle for someone who's read Kafka or Kingsolver. It's not that I feel somehow more enlightened than anyone here. It just seems that my realm isn't the same as anyone else's. And my Chinese is not nearly where it would need to be to discuss these things with nationals. Please.

Here's to me getting a grant.

T

marginal sadness

I might become a broken record this week, but

MIDTERMS ARE COMING!

I'm taking a break from studying my old flashcards to check my email and update all my loving constituents worldwide. Today my JingDu professor started reviewing us on old material from the first several chapters. That was helpful. I've got a script for my HuiHua class's dialogue that I have to do with a Korean girl. I need to internalize the thing by Wednesday. As far as TingLi, I've no real idea how to study for listening other than to actually put the cd into my computer and listen to it. Oh, that prospect is tantalizing.


I wish you couldn't smoke in restaurants here. The people directly behind me are puffing away on something that smells terrible. Maybe just cheap tobacco? It keeps wafting my direction and irritating my already cold-ridden lungs. I'm in Coughsville.

Oh, I learned something today. I now understand why those tiny little candles used in jack-o-lanterns are called tea lights. You put them in the little bowls that go under the teapot. They keep tea warm. Lights go on all over the world! I can sense I just taught you something. (It is only marginally sad to me that that is what I learned today.)

Also, this evening I talked to the taxi driver for a few minutes about where my roommate and I are from and where we wanted to go. He asked how old my roommate is. Then he wanted my roommate to guess his age. He was 50, by the way. I told him that I was very hungry, and that we wanted to go to a coffee restaurant. He asked why we'd go there if I was hungry. I told him that they have "很好吃饭" which translates loosely to "yummy food." He agreed with our decision making, even if he'd never heard of Texas and we'd only been in Beijing 2 1/2 months. He thinks my Chinese is very good. I think he is lying, but I'm vaguely conflicted, because they don't work for tips. So I told him that he's too nice.

T

A Three-Day Birthday!

Well, I made it through my 21st. Apparently my friends do like me, after all. I went to my usual Saturday morning Starbucks spot and did my normal thing until my American friend called and asked if I wanted to meet him for lunch. This is normal, as well. So I said yes, and we agreed to meet at the same pizza place we went to a couple Fridays ago. So I packed up and took the subway and a bus over to Chaoyang and then walked to the restaurant from there. On the way to the restaurant, I actually caught up with the American and my roommate. So we went in together. They had taken me to Outback Steakhouse the night before for my birthday, so I was kind of expecting not for this to be another birthday celebration, but it was. So we had a good time at lunch. Then my roommate said he had to go meet someone, so the American and I went to a Starbucks in Lido, which was a bit of a jaunt away by taxi.

At Xingbake Kafei we studied and had coffee and sat. Eventually my roommate caught up with us and sat for a while, but he seemed preoccupied and kept going out to talk on his phone. Suspicious. Then we caught a taxi back to the subway station where my bike was parked, and my roommate and I went into the Wu-Mart across the street from the station. Our friend took off to take a shower before we were slated to meet friends for my actual birthday dinner. So we went to the store, didn't find what we wanted, and left. He rode the back of my bike, as per normal. I wanted to go up and put my heavy messenger bag in my room, but he said we were to go to our friend's dorm room. Suspicious, I thought, since we never go over there. As we walked down the hall, I kept thinking, "Ok, there will be a bunch of people in his room." Nope. He was actually getting ready. When he finished, we all went over to our dorm so we could get ready ourselves.

When I opened the door to the dorm, I expected people. Nothing, though. Then I opened my suspiciously closed bedroom door. Surprise! There were 10 people in my hall of a bedroom. I'm pretty sure that's a fire code violation. It was really cool, though. Classmates and friends were there, and we were to go to dinner. I still thought we were going to Lush, which is a pretty decent, normal little place. So we went down to get taxis, and my roommate and Chanelle were asking who all had business cards for the restaurant. I was like, "I know where it is, it's no big deal." Then I was informed that we were indeed not going to Lush at all. Surprise!

We had reservations for our own little room at a nice Korean restaurant. Now, I've never been big on Korean food. This place, however, was really good. At Korean barbecues you order raw meet and there is a grill set into your table, and you cook it yourself. So that's what we did. At the restaurant we were 14 in all. That's people from four different continents for my birthday. We had a really nice time, and I was told happy birthday in 10 languages: English, Mandarin, Cantonese, Japanese, Indonesian, Tagalog (Filipino), Swedish, French, Spanish, and Korean. There was a special birthday cake that had been procured for this occasion (thus my roommate going to meet someone...), and it was moist chocolate cake with a rich chocolate icing. One of the very few Tex-Mex places in town had made it, and it was very much like home. It was really good cake.

After dinner, we changed venues for something that I actually quite adore now, and I know it's because I'm asian in my soul. Karaoke. Some of my friends had to go on home, but 10 of us went to a karaoke place and got a room. We proceeded to sing horribly for an hour and a half or so. Songs including (but not limited to) "Stayin' Alive," "My Girl," "Like a Virgin," "Back in the USSR," "Surfin' USA," "Lemon Tree (?)," "I'm So Excited," "Wild Thing," and a few Korean hiphop songs made our wee hours of the morning amusing to say the least. It ended with my very special version of "The Macarena," which, it turns out, is mostly in Spanish. As luck would have it, I'm actually quite talented at pseudo-rapping Spanish lyrics to a song that spawned the bane of dance's existence for years.

"¡Dale a tu cuerpo alegia, Macarena!"

I got to bed at 2. It was a really fun birthday with neither strippers nor booze. However, I did eat a fish-shaped waffle thing that had a sweet bean paste inside. It was bought on the street under a bridge. It was delicious, by the way. Also, a Korean bought me a figurine of a bull covered entirely in tiny seashells. I also got a piggybank that is a little boy cowboy. An Indonesian classmate gave that to me. It's adorable. Asians give the best nonsequitir gifts.

Today I hung out for a while with Butterbean's family. We had lunch after International. I went alone, but I saw them there. Speaking of, during the collection, a woman sang "O Happy Day," and my day actually became extraordinarily happy. She was incredible. I'm glad I had shaken her hand eariler in the morning. On the way out I want to tell her how much I loved the song, but she was talking to a Canadian about a record producer friend-of-a. I'm glad. I'd buy it.
So I went with the family to retrieve a very important stuffed lion from a restaurant, and then we were off to McDonald's Store, as the elder blonde kid calls it. He fell asleep, though, so we went to Sizzler instead. It was really good, and it was considered day three of my birthday extravaganza. You know what I love about Sizzler? It has the best salad bar I've seen in Beijing. It's really a very good salad bar. The food was great, too.

After the Sizzler lunch wound down, I decided to part ways with the family and cross the street to a different Starbucks! I know. I'm a walking urban college cliche. I studied a good bit, though, and before I got online. I also eavesdropped as some people talked about international adoption. A woman who was in here works with an orphanage about an hour away, and she was talking to two gentlemen who do work in developing countries. It was such a cool conversation, but I had to pretend to be reading or something, because I didn't want to butt in. It makes me glad to see that there are people out there working to protect the widows and orphans. That's something that gives me hope.

I'm out of battery and story and coffee. I guess it's time to go home.

T

p.s. I know how I talk about places in this city as though anyone reading this knows where they are. One day, I'm going to draw a map of it and scan it in just so you'll have an idea of Beijing geography. It'll be excellent. But I haven't a scanner right now. All my geography is known in relation to the subway. Funny, no?

Today is kind of my birthday. I say kind of because I crossed the International Dateline and so I think I won't actually have been born until sometime tomorrow morning. That said, I think it doesn't really matter. It's 'Vember Ten! where I am. (That's something that only my parents and Karol Guthrie will understand.)

A twenty-first birthday is something odd in Western culture. It's considered the age of actually becoming an adult in society. I know that 21 is still young, but at this age I feel that I should be accepting some responsibility. My country says that I can drink and vote and fight in wars and rent carpet shampooers. I must be pretty responsible. I must be pretty cool. All that said, though, I have never voted, I would despise being in the armed services, and I rarely vacuum. As far as drinking, I'm not wild about that, either. So what does this birthday really mean? I get the sense that it means that I need to be a real person. I don't need to be as relient on people holding my hand in every grown-up situation. I will still ask for advice and guidance, no doubt, but in reality the decisions and their consequences are mine. If I want to rent an apartment, buy a car, move to Seattle, it's all me. If I want to bungee jump, go to culinary school or adopt an orphan, I can. These are none of my actual plans (except the apartment), but it's interesting to think that they are actual options in my life.

If 21 is adulthood, responsibility, and general grown-ness, then why was I in China before I got this old and sagely? It is curious that children are allowed to move around the world alone. I'm certainly glad I am as old as I am at this juncture in my life, that is, I'm glad I've gotten this far and here. That sounds more melancholic than I intended. I just mean, I regret actions in my life, but I don't regret the lessons I learned subsequently.

So I'm a grown person, I guess. I feel like I'm standing with my hands in my pockets and shrugging in the face of some person in a business suit and power tie.

I got a very nice cake with my class yesterday. I'll post pictures when I get them from Chanelle.

T

It isn't terribly often in life that one can quote Loverboy and feel justified. This is one such time, though, and I feel I can get away with it. So, everybody's workin' for the weekend. No lie. I can't wait for the weekend. It's going to be studious, I'm sure, but I just don't want to be in classes anymore. There ought to be a break after midterms, not at the one month mark!

Today was normal as far as classes go. I just didn't really want to be in the classroom today. After class I ran an errand and then went to lunch with some classmates. I think there were more Indonesians than anyone else at the table. Just a Korean, Filipino, Swede, and me along with three Indonesians.

Oh, by the by, super-big thanks shout-out goes to the crew back at home. Thanks for the birthday cards! Admittedly I opened them earlier than my birthday, but I think you'll permit me. And I don't know how you could change the fact now, honestly. Anyway, they were a total surprise, and they made my day! I promise I'll read them all again on Saturday and make surprised faces. The one marked do not open until Dec. 25 is in my safe, and I have not opened it.

On birthday notes, I don't know what has been planned to celebrate my arrival at the legal drinking age in the U.S. (which is utterly meaningless everywhere else). I think my classmates have something up their sleeves--probably a cake--and I'm marginally nervous because the prof said something about it almost being my birthday today. What kind of set-up is class tomorrow? Also, my friends, I guess, are doing some planning. I've no idea what it will be, though. I offered very little suggestion other than "No strippers, no booze, and I don't want to sit at home."

I need to do some laundry.

T

I'm sick with some nasty cold stuff. My nose is runny/congested, and my throat is all scratchy/coughy/mucusy. It's swell being me.

I've been studying tonight. Now it's time to cycle home and go to bed.

Midterms in 8 days.

My friend down south is out of the hospital, which is a relief for him and his family.

My roommate is lecturing me about investing in stocks and buying real estate. I'm positive he doesn't know what he's talking about. This is not abnormal. At least this time it isn't theology or dating strategies.

T

It's a world of laughter, a world of joy...

Today was Derick's birthday. Zhu ta shengri kuai le! (Because he doesn't know this blog exists, so I just said "Happy birthday to him.")

Today, Austin had his appointment with the DVD shop guy. Turned out that DVD shop guy wanted Austin to teach him to play guitar. Haha. That's so mean of me to accidentally set up. On the bright side, though, I think it's a good link to someone. I watched Austin try to teach someone how to play the guitar--across a language barrier. He doesn't read music or know chords or anything. It's fun!

I tried to buy some minutes for my cell phone today. I went to the convenience store and told the cashier that I wanted to buy a China Mobile card. She said they don't have any. I was like, "What?" Because they are just printed slips like a receipt. It's not as if there is a stock of them lying around or not. I left in a bit of a tiff, because I know how ask for those and they didn't comply. However, I'm learning that this whole play isn't starring me. So I finally decided to believe that maybe they are out of the paper to print them. (I'm choosing not to think things like, "She hates me because I'm white" or whatever, because it's probably not true. And that's called being a paranoid racist, neither of which I aspire to.)

Chanelle got moved across the room today and her place has been taken by an Indonesian guy named Johan Sebastian. I wouldn't put his whole name on here, except that it's Johan Sebastian. That's the best thing ever. He is named after Bach, for Pete's sake! His Chinese name is not nearly as exciting, just a transliteration of Johan. Anyway, he's really nice, and he helps me read, and he won't talk to me in English. That's pretty much why Chanelle and I got split. We speak too much English. Now she's sandwiched between a Japanese girl and a Vietnamese guy. I swear, for Halloween I wanted everyone to wear the folk costumes of their countries and so we could sing "It's a Small World, After All," but I'm fairly sure that suggestion would have been vetoed. And no one wants to see me in buckskins, so, there's always that.

I guess that's all the story-telling I can do today. I need to claw and kick my way back onto the subway. God bless Beijing's rush hours. They remind me that I'm still alive. And tall. And white. And generally not Asian or small or in a bubble.

T

Lucky

I'm in the new coffee place. I know, I know. Too much coffeeshopping, too little real life. It's not that, though. It's just a nice respite from the pink walls and fluorescent overhead lighting. Probably these lights are fluorescent, too, but at least they are warm-toned, not cool.

Friday night a bunch of friends and I went out to Kro's Nest, which is a pizza joint managed by some French guy. This French guy wasn't being particularly nice to us, but it's cool. I had brought my secret, French manager-thwarting weapon: my Chinese language partner. She bypassed the French completely and went to the waitresses. They seated us in like 5 minutes. Frenchy was asking why we didn't have reservations about the time I came back to the group and said, "Hey, we got a couple booths over here." In case you're keeping score back home, that would put us at American/Chinese/Filipino/Singaporean kids: 1. French: 0. I'm awfully smug for a person who, regardless, still paid a decent piece of change for that New York style pizza. As though the French manager doesn't get paid there?

Anyway, it was a great adventure. My conversation partner had (there will be two opportunities to gasp... be ready) 1.) never eaten pizza and 2.) never eaten with a fork and knife. I know that the American contingent out there is probably going "Why would she need a fork and knife for pizza?" It's the super-big pizzeria-style pie that one has to eat that way until a few inches before the crust. Otherwise, it would flop all over the place. She was a trooper, and she later emailed me about how glad she was that we had gone, and how much fun she'd had. If I can do one thing, it's probably to introduce you to something bizarre or otherwise. I'm amassing a collection.

That said, today has been interesting (though yesterday was a dud). This afternoon, I asked Austin (who is the second-semester roommate-to-be) if he'd like to join us other American men to lunch. He agreed, and we went to the Tube Station, which is a restaurant that does sandwiches and pizza and things in that vein. Afterwards, some of us went to the dvd shop where my friend works. He was in there this time. We had a good chat (well, I mean, as good as can be expected since we don't really speak each others' languages well) about why one of my friends was not wearing enough clothes for the weather, and if he was cold. I said, "他很冷" which basically means, "He's very cold." Then we talked about whether or not I play guitar. (Why I know how to say, "I can't play guitar" and, yet I cannot say "I am lost" I will never know.) I told my dvd-store-friend that Austin actually does play guitar. Then we rolled it into an event slated for tomorrow. We're going back around 5 tomorrow so Austin can play guitar in the dvd shop in the back of a clothes shop. I have to go because I got him into this mess. It's going to be a hoot.

Now I'm in my new favorite (right after Starbucks in Xidan) coffeeshop. It's Spinelli Coffee Co., San Francisco, and it's in a mall. What's ridiculous right now is that there are mobs (MOBS!) of people in the middle of the mall crowded around a stage. I asked a worker here who is there (in Chinese) and she answered me in English, "A superstar."

"Is he a singer?"
"No."
"Is he an actor?"
"No."
Oh, no, I thought. This is going to be weird.
"He is from Happy Boys."
"Is that tv?"
"Yes."

Apparently I am less than 100 yards from the Chinese American Idol. And I think I'm sitting in the sindow that is along his escape corridor. I'm waiting this sucker out. I might get to see China's American Idol! How can I not wait?

Fame is so stupid. Honestly. He probably doesn't even sing in English!

T

p.s. One of our friends down pretty far south of me, and nearer the sea, is sick with a mosquito-borne fever. Be thinking about him and his family as he's in the hospital.

p.p.s. Yep, I saw him. He's very thin and has big hair. I think he looks very talented. Just don't ask me his name.

Larry King suggested to Jerry Seinfeld that Seinfeld got cancelled. Find the video online. It's amazing.

I had some street food yesterday. It's some crazy Chinese fruit that's like a cross between an apple and strawberry. They put a bunch of them on a wooden stick and then dip them in caramel. It's pretty fantastic. And it cost 26¢. Sweet. Literally.

Special thanks to Jenny for the birthday package. The card (yes, I opened it a week early) made me laugh hysterically. I'll probably frame that joker, because it is that funny. It has to do with arm-flap like less-than-young women develop. O man.

Midterms are coming up. Ay carumba.

T

Lama Temple

I had a good day in class. Then I went to lunch at a place we affectionately call the greenhouse, because the walls are very green. Bright green. The food was nice, and having lunch with friends is always nice.

Now I'm in the same coffeeshop as yesterday, but this time I'm with a friend. We shopped for a while and he bought a belt and I got some gloves. Take that winter! They were a bit on the (Chinese) expensive side, but they should do me for the winter, so that's all that matters. Now I get to ride my bike for twenty minutes and to use chopsticks successfully when I get where I'm going.

Last night we talked to Austin and will be moving in with him in December. That's pretty exciting.

There are some guys in the corner talking in English about Chinese movies and making movies and all this stuff I want to eavesdrop in on. They're white, and they look business-y. I'm highly curious, but I don't think I'll be that kid who butts into the conversation. I don't want to get the "sit down, kid, the grown folks are talking" look from anybody today.

T