Farting on the Plane

brain fart that is.. ever since i saw the movie "big", i like eating
baby corn. i like doing my own laundry. i like the smell of clothes
that were dried by the sun and wind. i like folding my t-shirts my
own special way. i like drinking sprite and water. and milk. drank
a lot of milk when i was a kid, something i attribute to my height
now. but the milk in china tastes odd. never really been a huge cola
fan, except to mix with hennessy or crown. i like shanghai. a. lot.
but i also like southern california, it will always be home. just
wish the plane ride wasnt so long. one day, i'll return. for good.
maybe. i've lived in two of the four places i've always wanted to
live in. the last 2 could probably be combined for a twoferone. im
honest. i say what's on my mind. i have opinions. sometimes (most
of the time) i lack an inner filter. you can see how this might have
gotten me in trouble in politics; probably why i got out before i lost
my sanity or got recalled or both. i make decisions. always been
baffled about how some people are incapable of making decisions. i
get along pretty well with just about anyone. i think people anywhere
are never separated by more than three ___, four max. amongst chinese
people, its two or three at most. i forgot that word, dammit its
gonna bother me for the rest of the plane ride. i've never let petty
shit bother me. except sometimes. my sisters know how to push my
buttons, and sometimes i know how to push theirs. they are my best
friends. i still really like daft punk. saw them twice in concert.
great great shows. i live in an old shanghai lanehouse. not sure if
its really a lanehouse, but its a house in a lane, so whatever. i
like the people and culture around me. it fascinates me. people who
have lived there most of their lives and then me. they like to stare
at me, but not in a bad way. i think theyre just interested in who i
am, what im doing there. one of these days, ill wake up early enough
and ask if i can join in on their morning exercise. or maybe hang out
with the old men in the warm summer evenings drinking beer and
speaking shanghainese. except i dont know shanghainese. just sit
there and smile. i curse a lot. in english. still learning chinese
cursing. when i first moved here, the worst thing i can say is "you
are a very bad man" or "you are a rotten egg", since they don't
understand 'fuck you'. not exactly phrases to express mock anger. i
dont think people in china actually get angry.. much of it is mock
anger. more like they're mad/annoyed b/c of "loss of face". i hate
driving. yes i know, born and raised in LAish. car culture. nobody
walks in LA. seriously, its nice to not drive. i dont even know what
radio stations in LA are good anymore. i really liked indie 103.1,
but they went belly up right before i moved to china. and arrow 93
was gone awhile ago. i hope LA isnt too foreign to me. or is it me
who has changed? i dont understand carbon offsetting or credits.
isn't everyone still polluting exactly the same, except that some
people are getting really rich by selling the credits to polluters so
that they can advertise that theyre saving the planet. well since
for the most part i havent driven for almost 1.5 years, does that mean
i can drive a dirty diesel emitting bulldozer when i get back to
socal. you know to make up for all those carbon credits ive saved up
by not driving? i like helping people, volunteering to serve the
community. always been active. found a good group of folks in
shanghai that like to do the same. its exciting that i get to shape a
"club" (for those who live in china, you will understand why i called
it a club and not an organization) in its infant stages. people learn
from each other and feed off our collective energies. its pretty
cool. hope that it never gets too administrative top-heavy and lose
its focus of helping people. ive been involved with something like
that in the past, and pretty much everyone gets really disillusioned.
i hate that feeling. degrees of separation. finally thought of it.
whew.

http://shangbert.blogspot.com