Inside My Head

Here is a sample of my most important thoughts for the week:

First, who the HECK opens a window in the bathroom on a breezy 20 freakin' degrees afternoon? I don't care how badly you've gotta go, when that first listerine-cool gust greets your bare (squatting because it's China) butt, there ain't nothing gonna happen except scrambling for your pants. I'm gonna blame the Russian students for this one.

Speaking of Russians, they're a weird lot. No really, if you haven't met any true-life Russians before, you're probably underestimating this sentiment. I've met my fair share, say in Alaska, here, and a shout-out to Eugene at Rice, and my conclusion is that the cold has resulted in a slightly warped species up there. First, let's address style. Yesterday, I was walking behind a girl with unnaturally streaked blondish hair wearing tall brown boots and shiny gold tights under a long black coat that had a thick shiny black plastic belt, all under a rhinestoned floppyish black hat. She accessorized this ensemble with baby pink gloves, and an absurdly oversized blackish-purple purse/hammock. This is a fairly common look. Really, the pink gloves? You had to go there? FURTHERMORE, too much cologne/perfume is apparently a Russian cultural mainstay. I do not know why. Perhaps frozen nosebuds. Either way, for these reasons Russians do not mistake me for Russian, while because I am blonde most Chinese people do.

Lunch today at the less-then-amazing cafeteria was really interesting, though I suspect only true Sysco connoisseurs (aka camp staff) will properly appreciate why. You know that cafeteria-food taste? It is perhaps most evident in canned corn..that sorta-not-good, mass-produced, in-no-way-related-to-fresh, kinda-bland flavor that permeates everything from those sheet pizzas to soup to salad dressing. You know what I mean? Well anyway, my lunch today was a sort of porridge that was completely characterized by that flavor. Usually, you can detect its presence around the flavor of whatever the dish is supposed to be, and thus properly refer to such cuisine as cafeteria chicken pot pie, or cafeteria hamburgers, but this soup thing had no flavor except cafeteria. I found this sort of okay tasting (as most cafeteria food is) and strangely comforting because it reminded me of camp. Would I eat it again? Maybe...but tonight I'm going to a restaurant because today I've had quite enough of cafeteria the flavor.

The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. The truth of this sentiment hit me today as I realized that if and when I really do plan to get serious about washing the far-too-large pile of laundry in my closet and/or wearing something clean for a change, I will indeed have to buy some laundry tokens first. Which I did after forcing myself to stop downstairs and fish out some change, subsequently relearning how to say "laundry token" in Chinese (衣币）and later proceeding to actually xi some yifu.

A lot of doors around here open both inward and outward, but they're all marked either "拉" or "推" ("pull" or "push", respectively). I have a moral aversion to opening the door in any but the specified fashion. Why? Because it's more efficient in some master architectural sense? Because it's foolproof? No. Because I took the time to learn those goddang characters and there is no way I am going to voluntarily nullify even one tidbit of Chinese knowledge I have put the effort in to acquire. I religiously push or pull as directed.

Screw The Weather Center. Every ten-day forecast says today is cold, tomorrow will be warmer, the third day it will snow, and from then conditions will rapidly improve into the 50's. Except for the snow part, this is a blatant lie. It is f-ing cold today, tomorrow will be similar, the third day it will indeed snow, and then the process will repeat itself. Screw you and your false hope, mr. forecast, I've had enough.

China created the best possible translation for mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes are disgusting, and their translation is "土豆泥," or "potato mud." Go China go. (Okay fine, it's technically potato-paste, but 泥 literally means "mud" so I rest my case.) Ugh potatoes.

I BOUGHT A XIANGGUA! (But haven't eaten it yet),
China-Cat

PS Check out the sweet new Nciku widget- it's a Chinese-English dictionary. Look up characters, pinyin or English, all xing.