(no subject)
July 18, 2010. I just ate dinner, and when I sit down in front of the computer to see a reply to my message, I delay clicking to see your response in order to let the happiness and hope wash over me for a bit longer.
Your reply is more that I could have hoped for.
You're so excited that I contacted you. You write, Do you know how excited I was when I saw your name on my visitors list? You write, Thank you god, 其实我就知道，总有一天，我还会再联系上你的 (actually, I always knew that one day, I'd be able to contact you again).
There are exclamation marks everywhere.
The next day, your new status will be, Thank you god, from now on I will appreciate every miracle in life.
Our messages on renren get longer and longer, two, three, four times a day. By the third day you install AIM, and it just get worse. I talk to you every morning for hours before work, during my lunch break, and then hours at night. You forget to eat. I forget to sleep.
I feel happier than I ever remember feeling.
(My mother is simultaneously amused, indulgent, and appalled.)
This continues for more than two weeks.
Today, we're chatting about that letter I wrote you. You tell me you still have it. You tell me, of COURSE your mother remembers me because I was the first girl to ever write you a letter. You tell me, I'm sorry I was an idiot who wrote back too late-- if I could do it over now, I wouldn't have waited.
Today, you're skipping Japanese class again, and I promise you I'll teach you how to curse and talk like a yakuza member when I go back to China later. You say you'll teach me classical Chinese so I become more cultured. I laugh in your face.
Today, you still remember my birthday. Once upon a time, I told you that it is a very auspicious day. I assert that I'm power-hungry, not money-grubbing. There's a difference.
Today, you insist that I call you 大哥哥 （big brother）, even though I'm one month older. You make fun of me for still being short, and then offer to beat up the kids who bullied me in grade school in America.
And today, you confide that you picked your university because the name is easy to write. I have no words.
One day, we're discussing grad schools, and you tell me you want to go abroad for grad school. And one day, you call me a pig and threaten to sell me to a meat factory; the joke sticks. We're talking about our favourite books, movies, classes. I find out you have a girlfriend; you never talk about her.
The more we talk, the more casual, mean, and inappropriate our conversation becomes. We promise to go to the Shanghai World Expo together later this summer; You promise your Expo "first time" to me, I tell you to stop being disgusting.
August 17, 2010. I land in Shanghai in an overcast, humid afternoon. My grandmother and cousin pick me up at the airport. The weather is terribly uncomfortable, the signs are hard for me to read, not sticking English into my sentences all the time is hard to adjust to-- I'm reminded how in love I am with Shanghai almost immediately.
I have no internet for days. As soon as I finally get online, I find that you've IMed me your home and cell number. I text you.
August 25, 2010. We're scheduled to meet for the first time. I am so excited! But at 4 in the morning you text me to say you might be late. I am disappointed-- it really bothers me when people change plans with me last minute. But the next morning you wake up on time, and we agree to meet after lunch.
Five minutes late, you call me, and tell you you've been wandering around the complex lost for a while. I laugh at you, and meet you in the front. The first time we see each other, we look at each other oddly, and the walk past each other. I call you, and we eventually figure out who each other are. You're wearing glasses, and dresses rather formally; I don't recognize you from your renren pictures.
My grandmother wants to meet you. You panic, and frantically look around for a 见面礼 （gift) to buy; you offer to buy a watermelon--no, a DOZEN watermelons. I drag you upstairs anyway.
When you see my grandparents, you're so nervous that you bow endlessly. You also apologize profusely for not bringing a gift. You're so nervous you're stuttering, and I'm simultaneously amused and appalled at how awkward the situation is. You say I still look a lot like when I was a kid. And, yes, you'll see me home later. I silently find this hilarious.
When we finally head out, it's raining. For some reason we find this hilarious. On the way to our old elementary school, we pass several turn-gates, a mean feat to pass through with an umbrella. We chat about Random on the way to the school, and it's beautiful and not awkward at all.
You're super polite: you always hold doors open, offer to let me go first on escalators, hold the umbrella, put an arm around my waist when crossing traffic.
Other times, you're super annoying: you pat me on the head more times than I care to count, you use me as an armrest, you make fun of my height and once or twice my speech. I point out you have the same problem when nervous. You pat me on the head again, and tell me in an outburst that you actually think it's really cute. I'm creepily reminded of Hughes from FMA.
We reach our elementary school. We tell the door guard we went to school there over a decade ago-- he's amused, and lets us in. We revisit our old classrooms, and our memories of the flag rising over the suddenly too-small field. Our shadows sit in the tiny chairs in the classrooms, and we're threatening to push each other out of the windows. You say, 'you still talk the same way you did when we were kids-- you're still abusing me all the time.' Only now, you don't make me cry anymore.
We wander out of our school, and take the subway to 五角场, one of the shopping/food centers of Shanghai. You complain you haven't eaten lunch yet, so we go to a Cantonese restaurant. You order the food, and I steal some to try. When I lean in to smell the new food before I taste it, you exclaim, 'oh my god, am I not the only person who does that??'. Maybe I learned this habit from you during those two years we ate lunch together, or vice versa.
While you're in the bathroom, I hide your wallet. Today, big sister from abroad (me) is going to pay for the meal. You get it back after we leave.
I mention I wanted to go to Nanjing Road to look at a certain brand of make-up. You point out nearby beauty counters, and go to ask about the brand for me. I'm so, so amused.
On the subway home, you're relaxed more by this point, and start showing more of your 流氓 side. You strike poses, flip your hair, make 自恋 vain comments about yourself. Unbelivable. And hilarious.
When we part, you say, you won't see someone as sexy as me until friday at the Expo. I tell you to go die. Please.
This post is monstrously long. I'll finish this another day, for real this time.