The sickest 90's rap group of all time

The week is over. I've spent all week drowning in stress of homework and I think I deserve a relaxed night dedicated to writing this post and listening to Kanye West. I'll do my best to tell you, reader, about the most exciting parts of my week, but I can't promise chronological order since everything was a bit of a blur thanks to sleep deprivation.

I went to Pulsation for the first time on Wednesday by myself and again today with Kelly. I discovered that he has approximately the same amount of strength as I do (which is saying a lot cause I'm extremely buff!) so we were a fair match for each other. After we left, he was calling a cab, when a Chinese kid came up to me on a bike and asked me if Kelly dyed his hair, which is curly and blonde. Kelly came over to see what was going on, and he told the kid that his hair was natural, and he bent down so the kid could touch his hair. It was pretty funny, as it was the first time I actually witnessed a Chinese person's fascination with an American.

Mom keeps making me spaghetti, which is one of the highlights of me being here. It's amazing to me how there isn't a hint of Chinese essence in the pasta, since after all it's noodles, which is basically a staple here next to rice. I've also not had any complaints about my family whatsoever. I really enjoy their company. I've talked with Billy more, who is a really goofy kid. I have decided that on the days I don't work out, I'm going to play badminton with him in front of our apartment, which is what we did yesterday after I got home from school. His relationship with Mom cracks me up. One minute she'll be shouting at him for not doing homework, and the next moment she'll be helping him do a handstand during the middle of dinner which ends up with him collapsing to the ground because of his nonexistent arm strength and all three of us laughing. After this incident, Mom asked me if I could do a handstand, and I took advantage of the opportunity for my chance to shine. I walked about ten feet down their hallway on my hands and my mom was extremely gleeful, clapping in delight and repeatedly calling me "Zhong guo nu hai!" which, in context, approximately translates to "the ultimate Chinese girl" or something like that. I couldn't help but flex my 'ceps for them, and astonished they said, "wa sai, you ji rou!!" which directly translates to "wow, there's chicken meat!!" When saying "chicken meat," they are referring to muscle. Strange, I know.

We got our uniforms on Thursday. We look, like I said in the title of this post, like the sickest 90's rap group of all time. For those adults who are reading this post right now, when I say "sickest," I don't mean that we all have the flu, I mean we are cool. I don't have a picture of me wearing the blue and white tracksuit, but I will be sure to post a picture in my next blog post. Come to think of it, I take back my statement about us not having the flu. There's been a bug going around school which has caused a few students misery and even a couple teachers. I believe that I am feeling the early symptoms of the bug (sore throat and cough), so we'll see if I end up having to throw up during school at some point.

Jackson and I had our 10 month anniversary on the Wednesday. Before him, I never pictured myself being in a high school relationship longer than 6 months, but here I am, 10 months deep and 5911 miles away from a boy (or Abercrombie model, as Kelly describes him) who I can't help but think about every day. 

I have not been able to post the pictures from the Olympic Park because I am lacking a mini USB cord to import pictures onto my computer. So, Dad, since I know you somehow manage to read these posts within an hour of their debuts into cyberspace, remind me to ask you about sending one to me at some point. Love ya :)

I think I'm getting the hang of things here. I definitely feel that I am in a routine. My claustrophobia on the bus is dissipating, and I was able to ride it this whole week without asking anyone around me where I needed to get off. It's the little things.