Five-star-China, ramblings toward a higher power
There's nothing quite like blithely handing over a $100 bill to pay for an absolutely frivolous experience (in this case, a seventy minute foot massage at midnight in the spa of your five star hotel with your friends). Especially if it's actually a 100 RMB bill, only worth a bit less than $15 USD and you're getting 32 RMB back asw change. Even after the completely unnecessary 10 RMB tip (tipping is not common in China and may make your massage therapist/waitress/bellboy uncomfortable) we all agree that this was an excellent deal. And I feel like (for lack of a better term) a high roller. Like I could pull out $100 USD and do whatever the hell I want whenever I want.
Except even the blindest of the willfully blind could write a dissertation on the insane human costs involved in bringing five-star-China into its cut-rate existence. To put it mildly, I've never been quite so excited to come home to the glorious tri-state area.
I have so much hope right now, a hope that is almost like a prayer, a hope that this do-over will go well. I wish it was faith that I had right now- a certainty in my ability to do whatever is necessary to acheive the life I idly dreamed of while avoiding expending any effort in the name of pharmacy. This trip has made it even more clear that I must be ready to be independent at a moment's notice should tempers be lost on either/both sides. So consistent good behavior absolutely cannot elude me. I just need to be functional now, un-named deity. And I beg you for a loan (or outright gift, it's your choice) of whatever it takes RIGHT NOW, with purely selfish intent. I'm scared and clueless- the best kind of target for those who trade in miracles and faith. Try blessing me, omnipotent one. I swear this ride will at least be amusing, something your worshipful followers cannot guarantee.
What they can guarantee, and I can't, is that they will still be waiting for you. I can't afford that luxury this fall, and hopefully won't be doing so. The shit hits the fan September 1st.
Except even the blindest of the willfully blind could write a dissertation on the insane human costs involved in bringing five-star-China into its cut-rate existence. To put it mildly, I've never been quite so excited to come home to the glorious tri-state area.
I have so much hope right now, a hope that is almost like a prayer, a hope that this do-over will go well. I wish it was faith that I had right now- a certainty in my ability to do whatever is necessary to acheive the life I idly dreamed of while avoiding expending any effort in the name of pharmacy. This trip has made it even more clear that I must be ready to be independent at a moment's notice should tempers be lost on either/both sides. So consistent good behavior absolutely cannot elude me. I just need to be functional now, un-named deity. And I beg you for a loan (or outright gift, it's your choice) of whatever it takes RIGHT NOW, with purely selfish intent. I'm scared and clueless- the best kind of target for those who trade in miracles and faith. Try blessing me, omnipotent one. I swear this ride will at least be amusing, something your worshipful followers cannot guarantee.
What they can guarantee, and I can't, is that they will still be waiting for you. I can't afford that luxury this fall, and hopefully won't be doing so. The shit hits the fan September 1st.