我现在上网。
My computer in my apartment is unfortunately broken. What news. As shared last post, my DVD player, too, is broken. I have other interesting news to share.
Earlier today I realized I desperately needed to keep up with my posts. I cannot stop writing on this thing. I want to write about my short hair and my long fingernails. Never before have such things happen, but now here in China - here where I am an outcast, here where I stand out, here where no one knows me and I'm free to be whatever I want - I've got sharp nails and a chic hair-do (think short haired Natalie Portman and Kiera Knightly). What's more - I do not care that Chinese people think I was "more beautiful" with long hair. Those who saw me with my long here - the first week I was here - are always asking, "Why did you cut your hair? I think, in my opinion, maybe you were more beautiful before." Sod off!
Anyway, enough with beauty. The point of the prior paragraph was not only to talk about my hair but to also point out yet another cultural difference. Does it give you something to reflect on? Not really, I didn't go in depth enough. I suppose I could talk about where I got my haircut (Angel's in Central Business District Area for 10 yuan), who cut my hair (a jolly gay little Chinese boy, no taller than 5'1" with baggy pants and spiky hair), and also about how every customer and worker crowded around my salon-seat to watch the show! But I shall not.
Yes the show! Anything I do is a show, and I realized today the only crowd I like giving a show to is little kids. I do not care that they scream "Laowai laowai Hello! Hello Hello!" and laugh and giggle and get a big kick out of me. I do not care one bit, and, in fact, I am responsive and light-hearted. The same happen with someone else - some dirty old cigarette-smoking peasant - and I scoff and roll my eyes. This is something I need to deal with. Why can I not accept the way the people are?
Anyway, I was telling someone on the phone earlier today that I dislike the Chinese. Then, to the person, I spilled all the reasons I "dislike" the people here. Littering. hacking. poop in street.
Naked baby pees in street.
Smokers. Everywhere.
People which way.
Anyway, but I do not hate Chinese people. I am saying these things, but I believe my reactions are natural, and I will not hinder myself when it comes to my thoughts and feelings on the subject. I must voice my opinions fully.
Anyway, I do not talk bad about Chinese people to their faces. I am all smiles. I am always a cheery smile.
Today I have class, and I should go.
My computer in my apartment is unfortunately broken. What news. As shared last post, my DVD player, too, is broken. I have other interesting news to share.
Earlier today I realized I desperately needed to keep up with my posts. I cannot stop writing on this thing. I want to write about my short hair and my long fingernails. Never before have such things happen, but now here in China - here where I am an outcast, here where I stand out, here where no one knows me and I'm free to be whatever I want - I've got sharp nails and a chic hair-do (think short haired Natalie Portman and Kiera Knightly). What's more - I do not care that Chinese people think I was "more beautiful" with long hair. Those who saw me with my long here - the first week I was here - are always asking, "Why did you cut your hair? I think, in my opinion, maybe you were more beautiful before." Sod off!
Anyway, enough with beauty. The point of the prior paragraph was not only to talk about my hair but to also point out yet another cultural difference. Does it give you something to reflect on? Not really, I didn't go in depth enough. I suppose I could talk about where I got my haircut (Angel's in Central Business District Area for 10 yuan), who cut my hair (a jolly gay little Chinese boy, no taller than 5'1" with baggy pants and spiky hair), and also about how every customer and worker crowded around my salon-seat to watch the show! But I shall not.
Yes the show! Anything I do is a show, and I realized today the only crowd I like giving a show to is little kids. I do not care that they scream "Laowai laowai Hello! Hello Hello!" and laugh and giggle and get a big kick out of me. I do not care one bit, and, in fact, I am responsive and light-hearted. The same happen with someone else - some dirty old cigarette-smoking peasant - and I scoff and roll my eyes. This is something I need to deal with. Why can I not accept the way the people are?
Anyway, I was telling someone on the phone earlier today that I dislike the Chinese. Then, to the person, I spilled all the reasons I "dislike" the people here. Littering. hacking. poop in street.
Naked baby pees in street.
Smokers. Everywhere.
People which way.
Anyway, but I do not hate Chinese people. I am saying these things, but I believe my reactions are natural, and I will not hinder myself when it comes to my thoughts and feelings on the subject. I must voice my opinions fully.
Anyway, I do not talk bad about Chinese people to their faces. I am all smiles. I am always a cheery smile.
Today I have class, and I should go.
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