i'm no good with titles.

i've had a random quote in my head for the past couple weeks now, and i can't remember the source. i know it's a russian poet. or at least i think i know it's a russian poet.

"nightly
birds come and pluck from our eyes
dreams of sunflower kingdoms."

the spacing's all wrong, but i'm pretty sure those are the words. anybody know who wrote that? it's from some dusty, thin hardcover that i stumbled upon in acorn books a long time ago during my obligatory half hour break from ye olde pizza place. i wonder what happened to the little troll-like acorn books man. not really. i guess i just remember him and that somehow translates to a sense of "curiosity." anyhoo, i tried to google the poem, but no luck. this book along with so many other vestiges of a seemingly past life currently reside in a storage unit off the highway between columbia and jefferson city, missouri. it's strange how many material possessions i at one point deemed worthy of keeping that i now have no recollection of. i do miss my books though, and my stein, and a really nice-fitting pair of gap jeans...all of which i can (and have) live[d] without. that's just weird.

i was reading a story earlier today that spoke of a man, diogenes the cynic, who lived in a barrel in athens sometime in the 400s bc, shirking material possessions and the notion of "custom." sort of an admirable position to give up all worldly things, i suppose. but maybe that would piss off the people who never had the opportunity to acquire things to give up. the point is (if i must attempt to make one, which i guess isn't required), i have a bunch of shit in storage, but i've made great efforts to replenish my supply of useless shit, ensuring that it surrounds me wherever i go. none of which yields any genuine happiness. simply being here (geographically speaking, not metaphysically. not trying to blow anyone's mind just yet) comes pretty close to my notion of happiness, despite my perpetual and [sometimes] obtuse complaints about my current situation, which i would rather categorize as slightly subjective observation. seems only natural, as this is my life.

i should mention that i've made some small day trips in the past few weeks. jules and rory were on vacation, thus removing my social pool from my entertainment equation. what's a girl to do? leave jiaxing and head for the more commercial/literally greener pastures of shanghai and hangzhou, respectively. which leads me back to the pointless accumulation of things. shanghai was largely characterized by an expensive trip to h&m. my consumerism took on a variety of forms in my 24 hours in that large city, highlighted by german beer, french food, starbucks and a subway sandwich. and then i returned from shanghai, back to my comparatively dirt mcgirt jiaxing. frogs and snails for dinner. home sweet home.

the next weekend i went to hangzhou. dubbed the venice of china by people who maybe haven't ever been to venice. i also haven't, but i would guess that it's a little different. there is water in both locales, so they have that in common. hangzhou's highlight is west lake. not full of canals, but one giant lake. and the tourism of hangzhou is probably not the same as a romantic gondola ride with a festively-clad italian, maybe some wine involved. i'm sure it's equally romantic to be steered around by an old phlegmatic chinese man who provides the option of a warm, piss-tasting beer. all shit-talking aside, hangzhou actually was quite nice. i was wandering around at about 5 in the afternoon, sans gawkers, amidst fields of flowers and wide open green spaces. you forget how much you miss wide open spaces when they're just suddenly not an option anymore. and it makes me miss my backyard and other places i never knew i was taking for granted in my "past" life.

stayed in a very nice hostel with 3 incredibly gassy and small men. perhaps the highlight of the trip was the juxtaposition of the train station with the glossy commerce of a tourist destination. to go from the money of westlake to the disparate near squalor of a public transit hub in the most populous country in the world. people spitting everywhere. mothers wiping their babies' shitty asses in full view of everyone. blowing snot directly by closing off one nostril and aiming at the ground. and all walks of life--suits to pajamas. people carrying their whole lives in strange, disproportioned denim or plaid bags. and everyone eating and carrying on, staring at the foreigner who somehow, by existing, manages to be more interesting than all this other activity.

in a few weeks i'll be heading to beijing to meet a friend from my hometown. i will finally see the great wall. i say finally like i've been here for more than 7 months. which i haven't. anyhoo, it will be great to see her. to talk about something other than work. to do something other than go to work or leave work. to drink copious amount of alcohol, for no other reason than i can, because i won't have to go to work. daily routine: work sleep wake up work. i actually left the school in the middle of the day on sunday. it's weird to see people in daylight, and for them to see me in the full glare of an early afternoon sun. i felt exposed and somehow more startling/startled than in the early morning or early evening hours in which i'm used to being outside. it wasn't a bad thing, it was just different.

that said, we'll have some new teachers starting at work in the near future. new faces always make things more interesting, even if only until their newness wears off.