Time Fries When You’re Eating Chow Fun!

HAPPY ONE MONTH AND FOUR DAYS LIVING IN CHINA TO ME!!!

OY, that long already and I haven’t yet told dem’ Internetz about where I’m living. Well, lemme tell ya…

I’m living in an apartment on the China Mining and Technology University campus in Wudaokou, Beijing, China. Hmm… I’ve already told you about the free 24-hour gym right outside my doorstep. What else?

OH YEAH!

How could I forget? The whole neighborhood smells like pussy.

Reason Numero Uno:
The filming set for HBO’s Cathouse 63: The Return of Mao’Z Dong.

Reason Numero Dos:
HBO’s on-set catering service provides the kitties with whole fish.

Reason Numero Tres:
You’re already familiar with this one…

Other than that smell, there’s another which comes from a big building next door with this sign out front:

Chinglish to English Translation: Black Market Colonoscopy Center

I haven’t gone for one yet, although I probably should. Alas, I digress…

LOCATION! LOCATION! LOCATION! Right???

How did I find this gem of an apartment?

When I first got to Beijing, I had still not made any plans as to where I was going to be living. I checked classifieds of www.thebeijinger.com, wrote down a bunch of phone numbers and started calling. The first number was a real-estate agent named Tan Ming who asked me to meet him at the subway station.

So I did.

Now, if you’re picturing Tan Ming to be the type of real-estate agent with gelled hair, a big new shiny vehicle, and lots of gold: YOU’RE RIGHT!

Well, almost right.

Replace gelled hair with naturally greased hair. Replace big new shiny vehicle with bike. Replace lots of gold with some gold, not found on his wrist, but in his teeth.

I’m twice his size, but he was still able to cart me around on the back of his bike for about two hours. Most of the places he took me to made my old basement in Verdun look like a palace.

After the two hours, my ass was sore and my spirit was down. I was seriously thinking of trying to get a dorm (ew) at Beijing Language and Culture University, the university at which I’m studying.

THEN, Tan Ming brought me to Madame Wu…

TO BE CONTINUED.

Until then…

You will receive an honorable mention in the 二十二 blog if you can correctly answer this question:

In my first week living with Madame Wu, she forbade me from doing what with my newly purchased toilet paper?

Aches-her-size

I’ve always thought about going to the gym, but have always been a little afraid. I don’t want to look dumb. I don’t want to get a boner. And I don’t want to commit my money to something that  I will likely stop doing two days later.

I’m actually kind of against gyms. It’s a place where they make you pay for gravity to do its job. Everywhere you go all 9.81 m/s^2 are free! Don’t pay for it. It’s a rip off.

I’m not against exercising, though. In fact, I’ve recently been inspired by the way China is so intent on keeping fit to start doing so myself. It’s apart of my whole cultural-integration plan.

INSPIRATION NUMERO UNO:

If elementary-school kidz can do it, SO CAN I!

Click on the picture to play "Wo ist Arnold?"

There is one rule to “Wo ist Arnold?”, if you find him, you have to comment on what a funny guy I am. I just need to feel like I have some self-worth.

INSPIRATION NUMERO DOS:

Right outside my apartment building is a FREE 24-hour gym. Talk about convenience! Now, I have no excuse for sitting on my rump all the time. Check it out!

OK, I lied a little. It’s not really a gym, it’s more of an “adult playground”- especially because Suzanne Somers is there every morning.

What actually happens is every morning at about 6:30 am, all the old ladies in the neighborhood gather to do Tai Chi, slap their thighs and do something that very closely resembles the “happy dance”. This is all to music blaring from a late 90’s cassette player that barely distinguishes differences between any notes in the melody.

DID I MENTION THIS WAS AT 6:30 AM EVERY MORNING?

Actually, the music is really nothing compared to the creeeeeeeeeeek-clunk, creeeeeeeek-clunk that all of the “adult playground” equipment makes. Sleep is overrated, right?

A possible solution might be to go on a search to Carrefour and get some WD-40 and lube that equipment up! Giggle giggle.

I doubt these ladies will ever go away and, well, they live here too. So, as they say: If you can’t beat ‘em, JOIN THEM!

This is also part of my cultural-integration plan.

So, tomorrow morn at 6:30:

• I will definitely be the only one under 60.
• I will definitely be the only westerner.
• I will definitely be the only guy there.

At least I won’t have to worry about boners.

Any outfit suggestions???

Also, how do I, somehow, get the will power to exercise more than once every two years?

Help?

Verena just called me to see if I wanted to go to an event put on by the Goethe institute at 798, a huge gallery/studio complex. I hung up the phone with her, finished writing a letter and got up to go take a shower. I’ve been closing my door lately because there is a mosquito infestation in the apartment and I’m desperately trying to keep them away from me so I can sleep at night.

So, on my way out of my room, I go to open the door to my room, but I can’t. The piece of shit imitation jade plastic handle just keeps turning and nothing happens. The latch bolt holding the door closed won’t budge a bit even when I try to jimmy it open with my Propaganda VIP Club card.

I just realized there are two mosquitos in my room.  One of them just bit me. So basically what I did to prevent mosquitos from getting into my room was I locked myself in the room WITH them.

Thank god I don’t have to pee or shit. Me having to shit is unlikely anyway, but that’s beside the point.

I’m not sure I want to deal with Madame Wu right now, so, now I’m waiting for Verena to get here. The plan is to throw her my keys out my window and hope she can somehow open my door from the other side. If that doesn’t work… I don’t know.

Any suggestions?