ok le

So I'm leaving China soon. I don't think it's quite dawned on me yet. Last weekend I was wondering why I was still here. It seemed like I should have been gone ages ago, and now I feel like I'm not leaving.

I think most of the reason I travel so much is because I love the culture shock I get on coming back to America. Fat people, enormous cars, warehouse shopping, copious amounts of disgusting food... Although now I can mentally prepare myself so it's not as strong. That's why I have to stay away longer and longer. Like a drug.

I'd really like to have no preparation at all. If someone could just kidnap me in my sleep and wake me up in Cosco that would be great. Followed by an enormous meal at Outback Steakhouse and then a swing by an Old Navy and an Office Max on the way to the local Megaplex. That alone would be enough for me to go straight into shock. Somewhere around the entrance of the Megaplex my legs would collapse under themselves and I'd fall into my tub of popcorn sobbing for days on end.

Or the amount of calories consumed in that day would clog my veins to allow only the minimum amount of blood necessary for survival to reach my brain. I'd walk around in a drug liked state unattainable on just MSG and find amusement in the purple and pink designs on the Megaplex wallpaper.

So, someone keep that in mind next time I'm abroad: "Drug Nicole and bring her to middle America without her knowledge."

But I'm pretty convinced I may be killed before I leave the country. The other day I was crossing the street and a cab spun around my corner. The tire actually ran over the tip of my shoe and my clothing brushed against it while it passed. I was pretty unphased by the whole event. I just kept walking. What is more likely to happen is that I'll return home and the realization of all my near-death experiences in China will come flooding back to me and I'll curl up into a ball in the corner of Customs and cry for days on end.

China will wait until last minute though. As I'm boarding the plane another passenger will lean on the controls to the hanger separating it just enough that I will plunge to my death - falling head first into a shipment of cocktail umbrellas. The cocktail umbrellas won't kill me, I'll choke to death on a sesame cake I felt I needed to have last minute.

So some people seem to think I'm "depressed". He writes about my blog on December 2nd. If you scroll down what he says is in English. You can read my response in the comment section.

Yes, I finally got Google Analytics up. I can now spy on who comes to this blog. Where you click from, who your internet provider is, what suburb you're in, even the type of browser, OS, and the number of pixels on your screen. I am god of this website.

Mostly I've just learned how most of my friends and family spend their work days. And since most of them work for a government organization, you can be assured that your tax dollars are going to a good cause - MSG FX baby.

So anyway, I'll get back to America, and I'll go out for a drink (although I get in at 8am), and someone will be bound to ask me the inevitable question:
"So, how was China?"

And I'll sit there, and I'll think about everything that's happened here. All my frustrations, all the annoying times, the smell, the noise, the pollution, the spitting, people pushing, etc. And I'll give the only response I can (and ever) give:

"Yeah, not bad."