Or, at least, Tokyo.

I’m outta here, baby! Won’t be updating regularly for the next couple of weeks, so take the time to read my old posts. If you please.

I still have your glasses. They are growing on me.

Listening to: Green Day - Time of Your Life

It’s 2AM. Xiang Wen walks out of her room and says, “I have a present for you”.

“Shao kao”, I ask, knowing that we already ate it earlier.

“No”, she replies, with both hands held behind her back, slowly revealing a cylinder-shaped object. After a few erroneous guesses and some complimentary hints, I get it.

A traveler’s set of a fork, spoon, and “kuai zi” (chopsticks). So practical. I love to eat. I love to travel. The perfect gift. What a surprise!!! ちょびっくり!!!

All this after she told me that she doesn’t believe in romance. She said romantic guys are liars! The perfect woman, fellas? I don’t think you can get any closer. Eat your heart out.

Anyway, she said her plan is for me to think of her whenever I eat. 噶！Consider it done.

Hey Xiang Wen, this is for you –> You are my sunshine, my FUCKING sunshine

Have you ever listened to Frank Sinatra’s “It’s Nice to go Travellin’”?

Did you listen all the way through? If you did then you heard one of the most classic lines ever sung.

“…get my slippers…make a pizza.”

If you can’t feel that - slippers and a pizza - then you’re a troubled individual, my friend.

Some more random Japan. Headed back on Wednesday and wanted to flush out the photos on hand.

Siesta

かわいいいいいい。。。ね？

教えて下さい

Yeah, life in Tokyo is so tough!

“Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty”.
え？アクスルさん チェンヅいきたいの？

Money really can buy anything. But I don’t like tinkering with the souls of others

I reminded myself to be cool. Think about what you’re gonna say before you say it

I met some nice people

Music, Food, Drink

I met a rude guy I wanted to punch in the face

I was hypocritical

I was super direct

I felt Japanese for 5 minutes. So patient and in control

Someone was very honest with me. Someone else was not

I received the best advice since leaving NYC

I got pissed (first time ever) when someone cut the line in front of me

I saw people throw bottles at the those collecting them

I saw, felt awkwardness. Our eyes exchanged awkwardness

I felt taken care of

I learned of a bad experience my friend had

I felt a part of a family

I put someone totally at ease

I felt embarrassed

My sadness overlapped with that of someone else’s

I was reminded that water is my way

I have a drawl in my room where I keep everything, including my camera. I pulled out the camera and snapped this one.

One from Huanglongxi I forgot to include last week.

While reading another blog, I came across the following:

THE TRUTH IS IN WHAT HAPPENED, HOW IT HAPPENED; NOT HOW IT FELT, NOT HOW IT FEELS. YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY REMEMBER HOW SOMETHING FELT AT THE TIME BECAUSE FEELINGS, WHATEVER THE FUCK THOSE ARE, ARE FLUID.

I really love this quote because it strikes at the heart of the argument made by many people when defending actions that hurt others*. You’ve definitely heard and probably even used this (feeling) argument before. For example, “it wasn’t what I intended”, “it was just sex, I didn’t love him/her”, or the worst, “i did it because I love you”.

So, I must say, unapologetically, I don’t always care about your feelings, because it is not what is important to me. The most important thing to me is the truth. And the truth, my friends, is in what happened.

*Maybe more pathetic is when it is used by those who have been hurt to defend their victimizer.

The last birthday party resulted in HJ and I in the OBGYN of the hospital. Why, you ask? No, no, no. It was NOT the alcohol. Instead, it was “da jiu” (Uncle).

Don’t understand?

Think about our friends at the NRA - guns don’t kill people. People kill people. Now, apply that same logic to our situation. Alcohol doesn’t get us twisted. People get us twisted.

And so, last week, when meeting with Mr. Feng, we hatched a plot of our own to do the Uncle in at Serene’s birthday party. We would ration our drinking power and focus on toasting the Uncle, get him really fucked to the point that he’d have to surrender to the ladies room as HJ and I had a few weeks back.

When I arrived (30 minutes late), I received the intelligence briefing - First, the bathrooms were cozy, perfect for kneeling down and letting go of all that brew. Second, we had plenty of ammunition, or “bullets” as HJ called them, pointing to cases of beer on the floor. Third, Uncle had already attended a wedding earlier in the day and was already doused in baijiu, pijiu, and other kinds of 酒. Fab, an ally in our war against a “sophisticated drinker”, had also attended a wedding earlier in the day and couldn’t operate at full capacity. No worries, though, cus’ HJ, Mr. Feng (and even his wife joined in) and I were really focused. I mean, hey, there’s nothing that makes you lose face faster than puking in the women’s can. Only thing was, the glasses were huge, so we might inflict some pain on ourselves in the process. I mean, they were big, wine glasses. And when we drink, it’s no sippin’; it’s full tilt. It’s “shuai le”.

Anyway, we got to work straight away. And then, any chance we had, toasted the Uncle. I learned some Chengdu hua - toast. I congratulated him on his soon to be second child - toast. We’re all “pa er duo” - toast. Let’s drink like a married couple, hugging, arms locked - toast. Cutting the cake? I’ll drink to that - toast!

In the end, we won. He surrendered, or so HJ said. I can’t remember

What I do remember is that the night ended as does any good night in Chengdu - with shao kao

Listening to: “Best is Yet to Come” by Frank Sinatra

I’ve been hearing that everyday from my Mother since I was in elementary school. That and “get some clothes that fit”, both to which my standard reply was, “don’t hate, Moms. Chicks did dudes with a big inseam”. 噶!

Today, for the first time, if Big Worm was here to see me, she wouldn’t have to waste her breath, except to shower me with compliments of how well my jeans and Ts fit.

If I had snapshots, you might think my style changed dramatically, but in fact, the fundamentals haven’t change a bit - it’s still jeans, Ts, and sneakers everyday of the week! Comfort is my style. My smile is my style. Cheap (except sneakers, and even those sometimes) is my style. Call it ghetto casual, big money grin, poor boy ¥en.

Lemme take you on a trip.

It all started with those Winnie da Pooh pajamas with the white feet. Even when I was too big for them, the feet broken out, I would still rock ‘em. Then it was Aaron Spelling (RIP) inspired - white T to show my pre-pubescent guns. I remember jeans with holes in both knees so big that even my teachers were asking if we had enough money to buy clothes. Fast forward and I remember hitting up Value City and TJ Maxx for the cheapo Cross Colours, Damage, USED, and Karl Kani brands. Then it was Tommy and Polo partial and full button ups. Onto FUBU and Phat Farm. I switched it on ‘em before the Hot Boyz were hot and came through with the plain white (among other colors), no brand Ts. Them cuffed Girbaud jeans had the Frenchies lovin’ me. My crib got robbed and they left me only with the clothes I was wearing. I took it as a sign and got grown up with dress shirts over a self-designed, iron-on pattern T, and now onto those joints from HellaPaul. For the past year I was rockin’ the same Old Navy jeans that Maggie bought me in Dallas. I wouldn’t wear dress shoes with jeans ‘cus it was against my principles. They wouldn’t let us into the club because of me. Maybe I’ve relaxed a little now, but I still stand behind the belief that such policies are discriminatory against poor people who don’t own a pair of shiny shoes. Besides, who wants to dance in some dress shoes?

Hoodies and long johns were like hot chocolate in the winter - a staple. The boots were Timbs and, after hittin’ a lick ($20), Columbias. Of course I was rockin’ Jordans with the best of ‘em. I wasn’t a sneaker freaker, but I did the dew when it was do. I skipped school, waited in line at 0630 AM to get the Js. I was late with the AF1s, but still rocked’ ‘em steady. I had them Huaraches, those Pumps, some Threaks, New Balance, Luggs, LA Gear, British Knights, Reebok Classics, etc..

The hair went from thick and slick (90210), a little short on the sides (Saved by the Bell), to a full-blown fade every week that gave me an excuse to skip class. I grew the curls down my back. Braiding it went from gully to pretty (note: Marc Allen was doing it it before Iverson and everyone else). That, coupled with the high maintenance, lead me to rock the PT (pony-tail). Got that job after I felt it was time to stop the Samson Sestito era, and went DIY-style for a while. Was in NYC, so I had to get it in Little Tokyo where they play dance music and talk about snortin’ coke. They love their blow more than their blow dryers. They’re always tryin’ to put some jiz in my hair, so I had to cool it. I try for the standard Chinese cut, but I keep gettin’ their interpretation of Tom Cruise in Top Gun. aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!! I don’t want that blow-back look!!!!!

And today. It’s no secret I hate shopping. The only shopping I have ever enjoyed was as a DJ. Outside of records, I despise shopping, even for food. I usually depend on someone else (a girlfriend or other concerned, fashion-conscious individual) to supply me with the inspiration (read: force me) for a trip to the store. So, today, Xiang Wen, Liu Yiming, and I went to Chunxi Lu and some other place (I forget how to call it) that is just a bunch of small stalls full of clothes, young girls, and HEAT!!! I have been there quite a few times before, but not out of want. This time we did it nice and, I must say, it was the most pleasant shopping experience of my life. The company was great. We took our time. We ate and hit the second half hard. We mixed up the styles, brands, and pricing.

I came out with 2 pairs of jeans, 2 pairs of shorts, 3 Ts, and 10 pairs of socks (what? I didn’t tell you I love socks?)….and they all fit. No, really Mom, they all fit. I mean, yes, my crotch feels tight and if it were cold, you might see a nipple pokin’ out!

Maybe it was the astonishment that was a consequence of an article I’d just read about birth control pills that stop the menstrual cycle of women.

Maybe it was a blast of American practically, itself a product of listening to that wicked version of The Star Spangled Banner performed by Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock.

Maybe I’m just a mean guy.

But I couldn’t help but LMAO when I read this.

Top-selling Bild newspaper said the zoo had received a hand-written fax from a suspected animal hater with the words: “Knut is dead! Thursday midday.”

Or maybe it’s just absurdness.

The absurdity of someone taking the time to write and fax a death threat (about a polar bear no less), coupled with the absurdity of someone who cared enough to publish it as news on the internet, and topped off by the absurdity that it took for me to click on the link and read the article, left me in a ball of laughter.

asphyxiated with silence. doused in doubt.

ba ba bamp ba ba ba ba bamp ba

i wanna be serrated

And don’t let go.

Today, HJ and I went to Huanglongxi, a small, old town about 50km outside of Chengdu. Some take aways:

Topping my list is a condom dispensing machine outside of a clothing store for babies (sorry, no picture). I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it seems that if you are shopping for baby clothes, then you might be a little late for the condoms. Then again, maybe it’s a warning to those walking past: buy a condom else you’ll end up spending much more on baby clothes later!

Now, some pics.

While praying inside of a Buddhist temple, I knelt down, opened my eyes, and the “datoutie” of these two young folks appeared before me. It took it as a sign and took them with me.

Note: Don’t point while in a Buddhist temple. I know this, but pointing is practically hard-wired inside of me, so I always slip up.

This gentleman was playing the “er hu” (two strings). I took a close up of his hands (see below)

I really like the shadow.

This tree had some deep roots. It was really massive.

I am crying, so my eyes are red like a bunny. You love these little creatures more once you taste them!

Some say China is red, but to me it is all gray.

This is quite a sleepy, peaceful town, mostly older folks running the shops, with some young kids lending a hand after school, but HJ mentioned that someone told him prostitution was rampant here. We thought the condom dispensers might be a sign of that (locals just go to the pharmacy, right?), but we confirmed earlier reports when we were leaving and three ladies clad in mini-skirts walked by and undressed us with their eyes.

We headed back to the city and ate some frog and loach, a small fish that is very delicious and healthy for men. He taught me some local dialect, one phrase which sounds like “Joe Slim”. It means commander of drinking, the guy who always pours the alcohol. And “anyi de ban”, which is the equivalent of “terrific”, but much funnier.

The weather is changing, and with it, the attire. God bless Chengdu!

This is xiang wen 向文. I always blog about her. She is my friend, co-worker, roommate, stylist, psychologist, astrologist, MSN emoticon specialist, and sometimes, my Chinese teacher.

I asked her how to say, “I want to ask you”.

She said, “wo xiang wen ni” 我想問你.

e???? That sounds like your name - xiang wen.

No No No. Different sounds and characters, she explained.

Okay, let me try…”wo xiang wen ni” 我想吻你.

Jesse!?!?!? No No No. You just said you want to kiss me.

e???? I did?

Different sounds and characters, she explained.

Would you rather your boyfriend/girlfriend want you or need you?

Some definitions might help guide you.

want: feel or have a desire for

need: a condition requiring relief

Is it a difference between desire and dependence? Does desire grow into dependence into desperation? Can you begin desperate, move through dependence, and achieve pure desire.

“Want” sounds really sexy. If someone says, “I want you”…can you resist the temptation?

“Need” might be sexy in certain situations, but a turn off in others. Relief? Relief? Relief?

Well, he might not be a philosopher, but who can argue with the lyrics of the late, great Elvis Presley (verse three is for you tough guys)?

Hold me close, hold me tight
Make me thrill with delight
Let me know where I stand from the start
I want you, I need you, I love you
With all my heart

Ev’ry time that you’re near
All my cares disappear
Darling, you’re all that I’m living for
I want you, I need you, I love you
More and more

I thought I could live without romance
Before you came to me
But now I know that
I will go on loving you eternally

Won’t you please be my own?
Never leave me alone
‘Cause I die ev’ry time we’re apart
I want you, I need you, I love you
With all my heart