05/30/17, 10:37am, sitting on my bed in Beijing, in the middle of reading Calvino’s Invisible Cities

It has come to my attention that I have in the past devoted significant amounts of time towards gaining a single adjective attached to my being, like being well-read, or being carefree, or being obliviously attractive. I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not yet sure whether I should be ashamed of it.


05/29/17 3:32pm, sitting at the supper table with LaoLao reading Einstein’s Dreams

Reading novels like Einstein’s Dreams, texts that survey human life and distill it to simple actions of arbitrary and interchangable men and women — always put me in an odd state of mind. The Bible. One Hundred Years of Solitude. I can’t quite describe it. It takes me out of the present, takes me out of engaging truly in interactions: persons are people, and everything is somehow mechanical, a board game.

Arbitrary Good Day

Just a particularly good day.

A pleasant surprise of a late start for school. So, delicious breakfast of squash and some Jane Eyre, as well as a solid page or so of the concerto.

Just tons of energy at school, with people and whatnot. Greeting and jabbering to everyone; I couldn’t help it.

JL gave me a ride home; had a job interview; GOT THE JOB FIRST JOB WOOHOO

Got a call from a professor to tell me my absolutely FRICKIN AMAZING AID PACKAGE FOR COLLEGE WOOHOO

Oh yeah and she really likes me? WOOHOO

Car shopping (a bit tiring, that bit, and not happy-making), and mexican food. This was all eh but WHO CARES WOOHOO

K done