Maybe this time I'll do right by you, blog. But I'm not promising anymore.
The reason for the absence was my old fried Katie from high school was in town. Katie is always ready for a good time. So between work and good times, I had no time. Literally. She wore me out and drained my wallet, and I'd have to say it was worth every penny and tired morning... But there isn't much worth blogging about on that subject.
She flew off this morning and I'm back to ridin' solo (which is also my brother's cellphone ringback ... I roll my eyes every time I call him). I have some friends now, but it's still a bit weird to wake up on weekend morning and not have anyone I hang out with by default. Living abroad is lonely sometimes. There's no escaping that.
I ran some errands and then walked to the propaganda museum - this big collection of Chinese propaganda posters from the 1950s through the 1970s. I find the socialist-realism stuff enchanting: Everyone is rosy-cheeked and smiling. They look healthy and happy, and it's all so fantastical. I decided I'd like to live in a propaganda poster from the 1950s. The guy driving the tractor can be my boyfriend. He has such strong hands.
Tonight I showed my face at a work event. The weird guy from IT told me I looked sexy. It was very, very wrong.
Then I went out to Vietnamese food with friends. And now I think I'm going to sleep. But before I do:
Did anyone else notice how the world turned on Mel Gibson? That's all fine and well, but why come Roman Polanski can rape a girl and everyone signs a petition of support. If Chinatown absolved a guy of that, then Mad Max should at least be worth some racial slurs/drunk driving/girlfriend smacking. At least. People are illogical.
That's all the notes from the peanut gallery. Goodnight, folks.