Tuesday, August 26, 2008

The hardest, heaviest part of me.

I love letters, and have received some great ones recently. I wouldn't mind a few more, and I'm great at providing quick, junk-filled responses.

I am suddenly looking forward to falling in love when I return to Chicago. It's pretty fucking impossible to do so here. Eat cheese, sleep with Yuki, dance at Berlin, fall in love: this is my spring manifesto.

(On my hour-long bike ride around Tianjin after work, I saw a large dog that was doing the do-si-do poop dance, and I suddenly needed desperately to see a large dog take a large shit, to remind me of Yuki. But I kept riding because, well, I'm not quite that crazy.)

I'm off to Shanghai this weekend. I deserve a pleasant disruption to the unruly rigmarole of my daily life. I'll be touring a little canal town an hour outside of the city, which should be perfect. Among other perfect things.

My baby sis moves to Morocco in one week. You'd think our parents put out their cigarettes on our arms, judging from the distance we've put between ourselves and them. I am jealous to the second power of her impending adventures.

I'm so glad trains from Beijing to Tianjin now start running at 6:15am. I get to stay out until all hours of the night with my little friends and be back in my concrete-soft bed by 7:30.

And how would you distinguish between sour and acidic foods? Exactly. Thank you.

1 comment:

Shannon said...

"You'd think our parents put out their cigarettes on our arms, judging from the distance we've put between ourselves and them."

Hee.