life. in china. captured through the eyes of a nomad named jen.

my mom sent my sister and i this two-liner email today:

“If you type ‘happy feet’ in yahoo search, it will tell you how to download the penguin screen saver. They are so cute!”

my cousin thinks my mom has a heart of a child because she got married at the young age of 23.  now at the age of 53, motherchu just celebrated 30 years of marriage to fatherchu. congrats to them.

lucky me to have them together still……

its getting cold in beijing. real cold, real fast.
luckily i like to travel by myself. no bf, gf, dog, mother, father, sister or other beings necessary. travel light. no extra baggage.

my mother tells me i should save some places to see with my future husband. she doesn’t understand why i do the independent thing.

but there’s a million places on my To See list. and i’m not waiting for no one.

next up: Malaysia (leaning towards, borneo. i want to be like julia roberts traveling in the long boat up the river looking at those saucy organgutans swinging up in trees) and then Bali (i want to be like a beach bum. laying out on the beach reading people magazine, while secretly spying on sexy surfers).

so xmas by myself, and if all goes well, i’ll have ems and her two gfs meet me in bali to celebrate nye and my 28th (eeks) bday.

now that’s hot.

Saturday

12:45pm—wake up to the sun spilling into my room. I love my bed. I love sleep. working a week of overtime has taken its toll. I want to sleep for another hour, but I turn on my cell phone to see that Josh has texted me twice.

1:30pm– arrive at Vineyard Cafe with Josh to bid our farewells to Emily. It seems surreal, the first of my friends to depart Beijing since I came here seven months ago.

1:30-6:00 pm– conversation around the table with mix of people. indian born china correspondent for Boston Daily (Herald?), american environmental consultant, filipino unicef public programs employee, british via luxembourg beijing olympic committee member, just to name a few. head over to emily’s to get some quinoa from whole foods. the mother of all grains, not found here in china.

7pm-- get in taxi to go over to brian and nico’s. taxi driver tells me there have been a lot more black people living in beijing recently. asks me if their countries subsidises them to live abroad. you know the recent african sumitt in beijing? yeah. africa and china are diplomatic best friends now—africa’s got natural resouces, china’s got needs and the dollar, dollars. i see. so do you like america or china?…….

7:25pm– arrive at Nico’s and Brian’s to find them sitting on the couch under a huge duvet listening to tunes. they live in the hutongs and are off the government heating grid. poor boys, my government controlled heating started on november 15th, and since then my flat has been nice and roasty. =P

8ish pm– order food from Hutong Pizza. i get veggie burger and yucky potato skins with yummy garlic dip. mol (man of leisure) arrives. we eat. the shit talking starts. it’s rugby night… s. africa (nico) vs. england (mol). who’s your daddy?

10:15– arrive at the pavillion. a yuppyfied, expat hang out near the worker’s stadium. we grab seats near the big screen. the boys down pints. i drink water.

10:15-midnight- who’s ur daddy talk continues. england wins. chris drinks and shares a celabatory kilkenny. i learned a bit of rugby and find that i actually like it better than american football. balls always in motion. plus, if feels good to be one of the boys. haven’t had a group of guy friends since dorms days at ucla…

12 am- brian drops us off at east shore jazz cafe. we catch the end of the live jazz set. finish our glasses of vino rojo and decide to head to bed.

1 ish to 2 am—go to bed bar. drink mojitos. mol drops mojitos down his trousers. i proclaim him to be “man with mojito balls.” i also tell him that i am not going to eat fried rice with him. no, not this time.

2:30 am- i’m in a cab with Mol. we are going to bellagio for food. why? because he gave me guilt trip, that as his best friend, it’s my duty to keep him company. what started out as a joke, has taken on some truth. chris is my best guy friend here in beijing. chris is my first close guy friend who is not gay.

3- 4 am- bellagio, full of drunkards eating greasy chinese food. despite my best intentions i give in and split a plate of fried noodles and sip on passion fruit tea. there are hot girls everywhere. chris says, “i’d tap that one. and that one and that one.” i don’t see any hotass boy that i want to tap.

4am- crawl in to bed and phone chris. we agree to embark on missions to find significant others for each other. i told him he got the harder end of the bargain. pretty girls everywhere in beijing. boys not such much. yet chris says he’ll find me a hot number at the gym. best friend he may be, i still have no faith.

Sunday

10:30am-awakened by text from nico to meet everyone for brunch at vineyard. not again. i lie in bed and think, life in beijing is a comedy. and it feels great to have a good supporting cast after seven months.

11am- chi jia texts me and asks me to go over to maple leaf’s house for brunch. yay. easier option since i just have to walk across the street.

12:25-1ish pm– help make pancakes, while chi jia whips up a full english brekkie. yum.

rest of afternoon— nap in bed. wake up.

6pm- jump in a cab to meet dulce at the oriental plaza. peruse a few stores and think, so many chinese with money buying clothes i can’t afford to buy.

7:30 pm-it’s the year of italy in china. we buy tickets for a italian play.

7:30-8:45pm- watch a play that is not so much a play. rather a video of a cast on stage acting out a play. so like watching a film of a play. does any of this make sense? play/film of a play in italian with chinese subtitles. not much makes sense to me if it wasn’t for dulce translating. plot: mother kills her two kids. part greek myth. part true story. 100% weird.

9:05pm- get text from Dulce apologizing for suggesting the play. i laugh to myself and go try to squeeze in a facial before going home. get a sales pitch for 15 minutes for various packages. later i tell motherchu who says i am living too friviously with my facials and such. tells me she just went to an investment seminar and ” the instructer said if you knew the $100 dinner you ate will be worth $100,000 in some years, you won’t spend that kind of money”. i tell my mom i would rather eat the $100 dinner. i could die tomorrow. life is short. “whatever, you better plan your own financial future. I won’t give you money. We are at the age that needs more luxury, not you. ” sometimes, i wish my parents were less chinesey, and would live life a bit more.

10pm- 1am do errands around the house. i love living alone. love it. love it. watch an episode of entourage. i love pirated dvds. love it. love it.

just don’t look good if you are a fifty year old chinese woman with fat legs.

engrish, chinglish, however you want to call incomprehensible english written by Chinese people suck big ass. especially on a monday morning. i’m mean and I am going to hell.
here’s some pics from halloween.

i made spooky spiders with peanut butter, ritz, currants and chocolate pretzels. my mom thought they looked like crabs. i beg to differ. i am betty crocker. yes i am.

here we are at my house pre-partying. we are tame by American Halloween standards–a Wellington Boots wearing aristocrat, a girl who wears her clothes inside out, a school girl, and me a revolutionary soldierette of sorts.

this was a last minute outfit. my blonde wig and feather boa as worn by MOL.

the yen party. all of the expats plus a few locals were crammed into a space normally used as an art gallery