The Sick and the Dread

Oi, long time no see. Last time we met I had finished my training and just moved to Hsinchu and observed some classes.

Now, I am officially Teacher Eric. I walked into my classes and all of them except the teenagers just started laughing. It actually surprised me a little, because I figured of all people to find foreigners funny, kids who see and interact with them weekly would be more resistant to the novelty. Figured wrong. My first week one girl requested to touch my hair. She said it was like Barbie hair.

I walked into my first class and they were going berserk. Kids tend to do that when they are forced to attend night classes after already being cooped up in their soul-sucking elementary schools for the past 8 hours. I also found out that my CT (co-teacher or Chinese Teacher, take your pick) Vera was the head CT for my branch. Although not technically my boss since the NSTs (Native Speaking Teachers) have a separate chain of command, she says “jump” and I ask “how high?” She is definitely my superior.

Class itself was rough the first day. I forgot to introduce some vocab and students were correspondingly lost on the story. I did a terrible job explaining grammar points, and the students were again appropriately confused. It was definitely a fake-it-til-you-make-it experience. Show no fear and the students won’t devour you whole, or something like that but nonetheless my brow was accumulating sweat beads as I made an idiot of myself for 110 minutes. When it was all finally over I immediately apologized to Vera for the mistakes I knew I made and the ones I didn’t know about too. I hope she is warming to me.

My second class that day was with the oldest students I have, around 14.There are about a dozen of them and every single one has quite strong English. The curriculum for them tackles fairly advanced concepts like pollution, transportation, evolution, and for this level at least, natural-world themes. Most of my other classes are with young kids, some as young as 5. The young ones are awesome. They are jazzed to be in class, like to move around, yell loudly when repeating words, and find Teacher Eric’s impersonation of lions, tigers, and bears to be just the awesomest thing ever. For the super young ones, there is even story time when I sit on a chair and the kids gather around me. The most challenging are the middle ones, who are taking the English seriously (if you’re five you certainly don’t) but still aren’t that good at it.

Getting to work was an adventure in itself for a while. I bummed rides from my boss the head NST for a while, but my HNST Japie had to go all the way across town, and occasionally he had early classes so I took taxis a bunch of times. It got to be a huge pain, but getting a scooter proved harder than I had thought. My apartment complex is relatively far from downtown by Hsinchu standards, definitely not something you walk. The few scooter stores I found near me all wanted proper documentation or gave prices too high. I am not licensed for Taiwan as an international license is not enough, so they refused to hand me the deed. Apparently many places sell under the table to foreigners but all I’ve got near me are legit.

I was worried my boss would get annoyed for another reason too; I called in sick on my second day of work. I agonized over it, tossed it over in my mind. But after I had spent half an hour feeling crappy in my local convenience store, I realized that were it not my second day and I’d been at the company I would call in sick in a heartbeat. I soon phoned my HNST Japie and he didn’t seem too surprised or miffed.

So what did I have? I think it was Carbon Monoxide poisoning. Why, you ask? Well put these together: first our fire alarm goes off at 1:00am. Then the next morning we discover the fridge is broken and not cooling, though still plugged in. Throughout the night I am nauseous, have a pounding headache, and feeling kind of like it feels when you’re massively hungover yet still slightly drunk from the night before, only I’d been straight sober for a week. I looked up the CO poisoning symptoms and they matched. I looked up refrigerators and though many models are not a risk, some in America before the 1970s are, and I’m not confident standards are better here. The final kicker is that they only are a problem when the cooling unit is broken.

One thing I’m not sure of is if it was entirely responsible for the ensuing 3 days of bowel movement. Extremely regular bowel movements. That could have been something I ate, I’m not sure and I’m definitely not a doctor. Either way it sucked and it carried over into much of that weekend of the 4^th. Another problem was that our freezer died and it took all our food with it including the two dozen chicken breasts I had just bought. They started to rot and since I still had my cold I mentioned at the end of last post, I couldn’t really smell it. My poor roommate, however, could. I cleaned it out and bleached it but it’s still an absolute stinkbomb to open the freezer. I’ll probably have another go at washing it soon.

Speaking of food, some things truly exist only in America. While watching my daily dose of ESPN.com clips, I saw an ad for a Papa John’s Double Bacon Six Cheese XL pizza. If you think that exists anywhere outside the USA and the Great White North then I have a bridge in Brooklyn I’d like to sell you. There is Costco pizza here and it’s the closest thing you get to back home, but nothing that makes your jaw drop and your cholesterol rise.

Not that I haven’t cooked however; since the repair of the fridge I bought some steaks and have already cooked two of them, with fried potatoes. I like cooking, though I only have a stove. I don’t know if it’s ironic or just plain makes sense, but I’m pretty sure that I won’t learn anything about making Chinese food here since it’s all so readily available and good, while I am my own best source for Western food and should see that ability rise. My first steak was marinated in too much soy sauce, but it seemed to leave to all be concentrated towards one end so it wasn’t too bad.

Last weekend I was able to get out once and go to bar alley. There isn’t much to it, just 2 bars that are open nightly and a third that seems dead. At the end of the alley there’s another bar close by. It’s foreigner haunt #1, but they show sweet movies like 300 as well as EPL matches. The beers on special are only 100 bucks which isn’t bad for a bar but is still  expensive compared to any sort of store.

During the week I was also able to explore a little bit more of Hsinchu. One of my CTs Lara wanted a Language Exchange so I met her and her friend Eunice and we went to a market and then they took me around downtown Hsinchu a little, including to a temple. It was nice to see something that wasn’t the road to work or a bar and I tried some meatballs that were surrounded by a gloopy starch. I also had a weird omelet sort of thing but the oysters it came with were a bit past their prime so it wasn’t that good.

I survived teaching my full load of 10 classes last week, and managed to enjoy the weekend now that I wasn’t sick, moving into an apartment, or getting worked to the bone in training. I am lucky enough to not have any Saturday classes for a little bit (all changing next weekend) so on Friday night I might another NST from my branch at a bar near the central canal in Hsinchu, close to bar alley but not on it. It was a lot more relaxed and without the creepy foreigner vibe. There I met two other guys who had worked at Hess previously. We talked about work, the benefits and drawbacks of a structured company, then got on our scooters and zoomed off away from the bar, up a hill, and to some random creek. We were planning on going to a temple but decided against breaking in.

Oh wait, the scooter.

I am borrowing one from an NST currently on vacation back in South Africa. It has more than 60,000km on it so each time I ride I wonder if I won’t be going back on it. Starting it up requires you to start it, wait for it to die once, then start it again. Still, it’s a godsend. I can go anywhere in a flash. No more bumming rides, I can schedule my own time however I want. It doesn’t have the greatest pickup in the world, and the horn doesn’t work, but it’s so convenient. After going up to the creek and having a nice late-night/early-morning debate about the future of tribalism and nationalism with regards to Africa, I returned home to sleep. The next day I would need my energy.

My roommate Marné wanted to go to Taichung a few days back, so we planned on it this Saturday. After her class we took off in the afternoon and I scootered our way to the train station. Having a backseat driver is not fun. The oohs and ahhs are enough, but then there’s the shifting of balance and clenching of fists as I pull off maneuvers common to Taiwan and frankly drive quite conservatively. We got to the train station, I parked in a ‘handicapped zone’ and we went to wait in line. We bought our tickets and 2 minutes later were on the train, standing-room only. An hour after that we arrived in Taichung, found dinner (dumplings!) and waited for another friend to arrive. The 3 of us then met a guy we all trained with and he took us to a holiday party a friend of his was having. It was nice to get into the holiday spirit. They had a fierce punch, eggnog, lots of Christmas decorations, and a KTV Christmas CD. There were no microphones so we had to make do with singing loudly, but I sang a couple anyway. I love Christmas music and I love KTV, so it was only natural. From there we went to a club called Spin. $600 for all-you-can-drink. Girls had it even better than guys at $350 each.  There wasn’t exactly dancing inside, just people sort of swaying. Worse yet, there was no Liar’s Dice. It ended up okay though as I met a Taiwanese friend of someone from the holiday party. We found a stairwell where the decibel level was under 100 and talked about the future of Taiwan and how screwed it is. Like it or not, it is. Sorry.

After suffering through many a poorly made Long Island Iced Tea the police showed up, or at least idled around outside. At first I noticed I could hear myself think, then long lines for the bar formed. The club manager turned off the music and stopped serving alcohol. I don’t know what kind of place is too cheap to invest in soundproof walls , but I guess the answer would be ‘apparently the kind of place you go to Eric.’ Eventually the party was restarted but the club never really recovered that night. We went back to the training friend’s apartment and crashed on various flat surfaces searching for sleep. After fitful rest, the next day we went to McDonald’s then the train station and headed back. Standing room only of course, but when it’s only 1 hour who cares?

That’s that, my first truly fun weekend here. I’ll be in Taichung several more times, as that is where follow-up training is on the 21^st, and then again January 16^th for our yearly banquet. I doubt I’ll go to Taipei before I get my first paycheck, perhaps not even until the second. Turns out things cost money and they want me to work here. That’s okay with me though.

Until next time! I’ll try to get one done before New Year’s.

P.S. Clarence, Kenny, notice the time. 5 AM on a weeknight. That’s how much I care.

It’s My Way or the Taipei

Most compliments I get here aren’t worth telling you about. You bust out anything more complex than ni hao and there’s instant cooing. Walk down the street and I know I’ll turn a few heads, no big deal. Sometimes though, I still get my socks blown off. And the place where I talk the most English to the most girls is English Corner. For some reason the students there are predominantly female. I don’t know the ratio of the university, but even when I’m not there, I’m walking in or out, it’s always girls. Guys tend to be outnumbered around 3:1 or maybe even 5:1 some days. In my presence some get extremely shy and will literally not say a word all session. Others are just emboldened, so a group conversation usually ends up me engaging about 3 people. I try to periodically ask the others questions at some point, but this never really does much. So last Wednesday I was doing my time, asking my questions. “What’s your favorite food? Do you watch the NBA?” etc… The conversation was hitting somewhat of a lull as my last answer petered out into nowhere and I tried to think of a simpler way to explain it in English. Out of the blue, one of the girls whom were actively engaged in conversation says “I like your fur.”

I was not wearing any fur.

I looked at her, searching for a meaning. Faced with such a strange statement I decided to go with the blunt businesslike approach and informed her that whatever she mean she said it wrong.

She leaned over the table and pointed at my arm, quite close. Her face was wracked with hesitation – Do I dare touch the golden-haired giant?

She didn’t, but the pointing was enough and at first I grinned then couldn’t suppress the laugh. The hesitation melted away, replaced by a sense of dread. She had no clue what she just said. A quick chat with her neighbor made everything clear, and she quickly buried her face in her arms. I blushed too, but when she summoned courage again to face the table she was redder than Rudolph’s nose. She giggled, the rest of the table laughed, and for the next whole minute no one really strung together a coherent series of words.

Finally, I broke it: “You mean my arm hair.”

“Yes! Yes I like it very much.”

And so ends that encounter with weird stuff I’ve been complimented on. During the same teaching session I was also asked what girls do in America when they like a boy. At first I thought she was asking about guys pursuing girls but nope. So I borrowed a translator and looked up ‘flirt.’ When everyone saw it the response seemed to pretty much be ‘Girls don’t do that in Taiwan. We’re too shy.’

Could have fooled me.

Last English corner tidbit: I have found a new frontrunner for best name. Although I have heard a random person on the internet claim to meet someone who chose the English name ‘Toaster’ my best so far, from last week, is Smilina. I had met Smiles before, and people whose name meant smile in Chinese, but Smilina, of the storied etymology ‘Smile + -ina,’ is the best I have personally met.

I’ve noted how chaotically the classes seem to go here. Projects meetings don’t happen, information about classes goes out minutes before you need to know, and other minor fiascoes. One odd thing is the requirements made of students; one of my professors wanted to invite us to lunch Saturday, and had this planned for three weeks. I can handle a little weekend time relating to a class, especially when there’s no grading pressure. The lunch was supposed to be this Saturday, and in class at 5pm on Friday, he dropped some news on us. For starters, his car only held four passengers, and there were supposed to be seven students plus him. He then solicited the entire class for bikes. A guy next to me raised his hand, and the professor instantly assigned me to borrow his bike and follow along. Where exactly we still didn’t know. Then I found out it was to his house which was ten minutes away. By car. Saturday came and went and I definitely didn’t go. For one the guy never gave me his bike (though I never asked). And then there was my lack of desire to comply with arbitrary impositions made with little regard for anyone else involved. And for closure, that group project I’d been mentioning did finally happen Wednesday. After the replacement professor lectured for the first two hours, we presented. Our group leader was first and he was formidable. Then the heart of the order totally let us down. They took the microphone, mumbled into it and read off straight from slides or printed material. Then one guy showed a video for his presentation. When he put it on I thought it looked pretty well done. It was actually pretty high quality stuff. Too high quality, as it turned out. My suspicions gathered quickly when graphics beyond Windows Movie Maker appeared. Then I realized everything in the first minute was spelled correctly. At last I saw the word ‘fiefdom’ and all doubts were shattered. Coming back to the group, he admitted to the theft straight-up and without shame.

All of this is moot.

I am now in Taipei, along with all of my stuff. I am in a hostel room that is almost 60 square feet. I have left the Great Asia State University permanently. I didn’t let on about this earlier since I was still going through paperwork and talking to my new employer, Hess. Hess is a large English-teaching chain in Taiwan, and yours truly will be a cram school teacher dealing with rugrats in one month’s time. Training starts Nov 15^th, there’s a medical checkup Nov 12^th, and I got here earlier because I didn’t see much of a point in hanging around. Why did I leave? First, I wasn’t learning enough Chinese. Every class was in English, and I was always the one people wanted to speak English with. The dorm + class situation left me without much communication with locals. Most importantly though, I just couldn’t stand class. Every minute was pulling teeth. Short of Chinese class, I don’t think I could stand any class right now. Much as I love history, I think there would be a similar negative reaction to a history master’s in America. Signing up for a 2-year MBA program was simply a huge mistake. So here I sit in Taipei, planning nothing but to while away some days with photography and exploring.

Most of my ending time at Asia U was spent with Mongolians, specifically Jackie, Golden, and Yahoo. And here they are!

This was taken Sunday night, and Monday morning I departed. At 7:10AM I just walked out of the building. The student on desk duty just looked at me and Yahoo (he helped me carry some stuff) and while clearly confused, said nothing. Being white lets you get away with a lot over here. I am understandably forgiven for any cultural faux pas I commit, and no one ever approaches me to ask something important. I’m inundated with poorly-pronounced ‘Hello’ on an hourly basis, but again, nothing substantive. So away I went from the dorm and didn’t look back. I said goodbye to Yahoo and gave him a handshake. Hopefully I’ll meet up with some of them over winter break. I walked down the road, foregoing the bus-of-uncertain-schedule, and also not wanting to be spotted by a professor or anyone I know.

So I trundled off away from campus. I was only going maybe half a mile, but it took forever. I was weighed down by every single item I brought from America, plus a lamp and blanket I purchased here. Backpack on both shoulders, messenger bag sashed across from left to right, pulling a massive suitcase with a bulging duffel bag on top, which every so often would tilt and flip over to be dragged on the ground. I was probably averaging a grand 2 mph. My goal was just to walk to a main thoroughfare where I could find a cab. Eventually I did, but not before I had to go right by an elementary school that was just starting its day. The students were all in their uniforms and thronged the sidewalk. When they approached a crosswalk a huge line formed. I wasn’t inclined to wait however and went from the smooth road that served as sidewalk to the adjacent gutter. It was very shallow, only a 1” difference, but also had holes every meter or so. I accelerated a little to better hop these pitfalls. With each one my angled suitcase emitted a satisfying click-clack but seemed to handle them otherwise well. Where the crosswalk started a true sidewalk began from the opposite direction, and after an unceremonious hoist of my stuff I was on to smoother sailing. During this whole time, precisely zero of the students in line looked at me. In fact on this whole minitrip, I received fewer stares than I did during a walk to class. I don’t know if it’s legendary student discipline or what, but it was a pleasant surprise. Finally I hit the T-intersection I had been gunning for and waited.

Forty-five minutes later, I had my cab. They were still quite sparse out there. I rode on to the HSR (High Speed Rail) station where I found the McDonald’s and plunked down. I took some pictures  of the station, then went on a macro spree with the foliage nearby.

 My flickr stream has all the ones that aren’t abysmal.

After that I watched some TV, read more Dune, and had another go at a Chinese newspaper. It’s still tough reading, but it’s also fun to see characters appear in real life that I have just been studying. Finally 2pm rolled around and I was able to board my sleek Japanese-engineered carriage of the future. Naturally in total foreigner fashion I got on the train at the exact wrong end, and had to stumble past 15 rows of seats with all my luggage, bumping into others on the way. After just an hour even including the 3 extra stops, we arrived at Taipei main station. And that’s when this odyssey really began.

I disembarked and looked both ways. East exits and West exits out of the platform. Fair enough, I read online from my hostel’s website to take the east one. So far, so good. Good in the sense I almost-but-didn’t-quite let my overburdened suitcase fall down the escalator and into a crowd while alighting. At the top of that escalator I was able to locate a map. Unfortunately, when I looked for the hostel online the night before, I found that for starters, Google Maps could not agree on where it was. To add to the pain, the official hostel website had the address only in English – not terribly helpful when asking directions – and to make matters worse, there are actually two of the very same hostel within the same city block. I know not why. So there I stood, pondering this map. It didn’t actually show where I was but rather different places I could exit to, so I knew neither where I was nor where to be going which is always  a recipe for success. My choices were the Y district, R district, or M district. After consulting my comparative maps and prophetic tea leaves, I went with Y. But then I was faced with another problem: the Y area had exits both north and south of a huge street, the kind you can only cross on an underpass. Ultimately I trusted my innate sense of direction and went the way I felt was north. It worked, at least that time. I wish my east-west worked that well. (Kidding, I know they’re linked.) I also wish the hostel had been mapped halfway decently.

I took one more escalator down and a final one up to get to the north side of Civic Boulevard. Finding the light of day at last, I stopped to take off the hoodie I was wearing for cargo-space purposes. Still carrying/dragging/force-pulling the nearly 100lbs of junk I slowly made my way in the totally wrong direction. I hit a large street, continued north, then decided I should go back the other way. Although correct, this proved to be a very, very bad move. I proceeded to get lost in crazy alleys and unmarked paved areas which could have been long driveways. I was tired, but not defeated, when suddenly I saw, Family Mart! The hostel said they were right next to a Family Mart! My heart leapt and pace quickened. Arrival! I got to the front of the store and started looking around intently. That’s when I descended into my own personal madness; I seemed to round every corner twice, but never see the same people. I thought I had mapped out lanes when a new one would spring up like a chasm sundered from hell. Where was I going? I had just made it back to the first Family Mart to buy a map. I was studying it intently. Without name or address in Chinese, asking around bore little fruit. Suddenly white Jesus approached.

“Need some help?” It was one of those non-American accents.

Approximation of walking path to hostel. Red is train station, blue is where the underpass spat me out, green is the hostel.

I acknowledged my utter inability to find this godforsaken place and he pointed me to the closest one, as he too seemed to realize there were several of this particular establishment. He had me head to the nearest big corner, turn right, then turn again at the next corner which would have a different Family Mart, and I should see it. Marvelous! I wanted to hug him but somehow felt it might not be acceptable. I was home free! I sort-of ran to the corner and turned right. I was on fire, and -*screeuncchhhh*.

Hmmm. That sounded suspiciously similar to plastic on brick, and there was sudden resistance to my suitcase moving forward I turned around and saw my duffel bag, being wider than the suitcase is, had clipped a slightly protruding wall where this new property started. I examined it to make sure there was no structural damage and decided this was as good as time as any to rearrange my messenger bag shoulder and suitcase hand. I had been facing the wall which gave way to a store window while doing this, but was rather preoccupied with looking down at the luggage situation. I turned toward the street and saw a woman give me a dirty look. Whatever, lady. I turned back to the sidewalk planning on finishing the last leg of my journey but the entire right side of my vision was bombarded by the store. A lingerie store, replete with pink panties, black bras, and whatever else they sell. And as far as this woman had seen, I was running, stopped abruptly as soon as the lingerie came within view, and turned to stare for a good half minute.

Hearts and minds, hearts and minds.

After feeling ashamed of something I didn’t even do, I found the hostel which can accurately be described in one word: janky. If you don’t know what that means, I suggest www.urbandictionary.com/janky definition #3. When you turn the light on in my room, it actually flickers several times like they do in movie interrogation scenes, and the wiring is entirely exposed. The climate control consists of one fan placed on my desk, which feels like it will break any second, and actually came with 3 unopened-yet-yellowing bars of Ivory soap. There’s no screen and I’ve kept the windows closed but I still have an unwelcome mosquito I’ve been trying to swat with my passport.

And that’s literally where I sit right now. A room not even 8’x8’, with clothes drying on my headboard, desk, luggage, doorknob, anywhere with a protrusion. Tomorrow I plan on exploring a little, then after that I might try to meet up with friends of friends that are also in Taipei. Other than moving into the training hotel on the 14^th there is very little set in stone.

It’s freedom, I can taste it, and I love it.

So long!

Cravings...

Have set in again. Last week was our break and I should have a post all about it up tomorrow. I’ll also try to fill in basically what has happened this month. Unlike with regular procrastinating, the clock keeps ticking and things keep accumulating so it helps even less. But I just wanted to share what may be the worst part about China.

There is no good food.

The food gets really repetitive at about the 2-month mark. This is even after eating imported Goldfish, McDonald’s, and sort-of Westernized tourist food. If I were on a straight Chinese diet I’d probably get sick of it within weeks.

So in class I composed a list of things I am going to eat when I get back.
Nikki special (Ultra-greasy cheeseburger with gyros meat as well)
Italian sausage/beef combo with peppers
Skillet with peppers, onions, bacon, cheese
Five Guys double cheeseburger with mushrooms grilled onions and BBQ sauce
Steak at Pete Miller’s
Panera Bread French Onion soup and Italian Combo sandwich
Pizza di Roma
Lucky Charms
Brats
Chipotle Barbacoa Burrito with Chips and salsa/guacamole
McDonald’s Chicken Selects
Taco Bell Grilled Stuft Burrito with steak and a Baja Chalupa both with Taco Bell hot sauce
A massive salad with balsamic vinaigrette dressing and cold fresh carrots, cucumbers, olives, sprouts
Caprese salad
Mountain Dew
New Glarus

I miss them, very dearly.

Up, Up, and Away from all the other Zhong Guo Ren

I'm now almost exactly 24 hours from boarding the great silver bird and taking off. Currently I am debating the virtues of staying up the entire night before and whether that will help me adjust, which in truth will all depend if I can fall asleep right away on the plane.

I also got an email from the program coordinator this morning:
Dear all,

We received urgent notice from the Bureau of Public Health today regarding a decision by the P.R.C government on dealing with persons from the infected areas of human cases of H1N1. This government regulation states that all persons who have been to the infected areas within the last 2 weeks shall be quarantined for 7 days.

Since all of you are coming from countries within which H1N1 human cases have been found, no-one could be exempted from this new regulation.

With the support of our local institutes, program staff negotiated on the terms and conditions related to the quarantine. The result turned out to be quite successful: instead of being quarantined for 7 days, we will only need to do it for 3 days. In the meanwhile, food will be provided by our hotel for free, as well as other complimentaries such as shampoo, towels, toilet paper, etc. Internet and room phone will also be set up by the time you check in.

What you need to do:

1. Make sure you don't have a fever when you enter China. Officers from Beijing Entry/Exit Inspection and Quarantine Bureau (Beijing CIQ) will check every passenger once the plane lands. If you already have a fever, please do not board the plane.

2. During the quarantine, please do not leave our hotel building.

We understand that this governmental policy may cause you inconvenience. Please be reassured that we will adjust our schedule accordingly to make up for the class hours missed during the quarantine.

We appreciate your cooperation and will accommodate you as much as we can.
------
3-day quarantine upon arrival. I'm not sure if this will be in a different hotel or the one we are scheduled to be in, but it sounds like our hotel in Tianjin. This will run into our scheduled city tour the first day after arrival, and will likely run into the first day of class as we'll since we arrive in China Friday afternoon and will likely get to our hotel Friday night. It'll probably be pretty boring, but oh well.

6 meals. 24 hours. 15000 calories.

My first dinner will be Pete Miller's, you see. A medium-rare 16oz filet buttered with some cracked garlic. Fluffy but chunky mashed potatoes on the side. I will personally apply A1 steak sauce in just the right amount. The juice from the steak will seep into the bottom of the potatoes to add a little more substance to it.

The next morning I will have two breakfasts. I will wake up when I damn well please. Then I will have a bowl of Lucky Charms (buy it now mom) and then will go to Egg Harbor and get a skillet, eggs scrambled with bacon, shredded cheddar, and onions. I will have a large glass of skim milk.

From there, I move on to lunch. A double Nikki from Chuckwagon, pickles ketchup and onion. Secondsies on lunch will be a footlong Subway Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki. Make it a meal deal with real Lay's and an orange soda.

Back to dinner. Chili's. I walk in and am immediately seated because it is a weeknight. I grab a toothpick to munch on while waiting for the food. I immediately order a drink - a Minute-Maid lemonade - and it comes almost immediately in the Chili's mug notable only in that it is devoid of any logo or marketing. I chug it down before the waitress takes orders, and by the time orders are completed it is replaced. My order is a bowl of chili with cheese. I crush in a packet of oyster crackers and save the others to nibble on plain. It's real restaurant-grade chili; not a weak vegetarian excuse, and nothing too high-falutin' or 'authentic,' and it's just what I'm looking for. The chili, unlike some soups, is never too hot when it comes out, and you can dig in right away. And through some magical chemicals, it retains right until your entree arrives. Mine is a Smoked Applewood Bacon BBQ Burger. I can barely fit a single bite in my mouth, which is incredible given I can fit my entire fist in my mouth. The bacon strips are 10 inches long, 1 inch wide, and several milimeters thick. Between the butter, mayo, and BBQ sauce, they have trouble staying on the patty. The patty itself by the way weighsed a pound after cooking. To round out the burger and perhaps provide the bacon with a little friction, I create a layer of fries. It's almost a shame to put fries spiced so ingeniously and cut so well onto a burger, but it must be done. The fries are finished after the burger. I waddle over to the exit, help myself to two more toothpicks (they have the minty taste literally imbued in them) and thank the hostess in a sincere manner as never before. I waddle across the street to the parking garage and collapse into the Avalon. Before I'm able to even exit however, I suffer a massive heart attack, my body's final rejection of the binging. It's a quick onset and I convulse slightly, then pass out. My body slumps forward, and foot hits the gas. I rocket out of the garage, break the concrete miniwall, and land in a spectacular fireball right in front of the Chili's entrance.

I love America.

(I'm gonna try to post a real update tomorrow. I'm also having my Chinese reading tendencies examined with how I parse their language that refused to invent the space.)