…because anyone who’s never met me won’t care.
Hi friends! Remember when I used to blog about my life? Do you miss that? What? No, there aren’t any Canseco updates. Shut up and listen to me talk about myself.
What’s new? I was in China. I’d love to tell you lots about it, but there are things hindering me…
1. 1.) How do you catch a moonbeam and hold it in your hand?
2. 2.) This is not a travel blog. Travel blogs are booooo-ring. We met a few eternal travellers in Beijing and is it just me, or does anyone who’s ever travelled think their experiences are more profound and important than everyone else’s. They aren’t. And then they make you feel small when you haven't been to the same places as them. It's like "oh, I'm sorry noooo. I haven't been to the secret waterfall in Kuala Lumpur where the fish sing Aretha Franklin songs that is only accessible via three overnight trips on a llama and seven days spent earning the village elder Big Donny's trust by sleeping with his goat herd". Snobs.
Anyway, our trip wasn’t so much about the travel experience as it was acting the fool.
Our Chinese priorities:
1. Forget your name and where you came from
2. See the Great Wall
A personal highlight of the trip was when we convinced the staff at the JW Marriott to let us suntan, drink and smoke on the private roof of the hotel. We wore bathrobes. The deck, which could only be reached by passage through a secret bookcase (the lit nerd in me exploded) was on the 60th floor and had the most incredible view of the city.
While my sleep-deprived companions were basking in the sun’s warm glow, I went back through the bookcase and stood in the middle of the world’s highest library. It was awesome. Think Beauty & the Beast, but smaller and with Chinese literature.
This was the best photo I could find. Fack.
I stood on the book ladder and wheeled it across the walls, then stood in the centre of the room and spun around and around just like Belle. A moment later, a hotel staff member entered the room. He spoke no English, but I could tell he was down so I mimed to him to show me the best book in the room. He immediately went to the top shelf and pulled down an massive, ancient looking, jewel-adorned book fastened with eye-hooks. He gingerly opened the latches and passed it to me. It was all in Chinese and though I had no idea what was written (it was probably the Twilight saga); I knew that whatever was inside was life changing. I looked at the Chinese man and said, “wooooowwwww.” He looked back at me, eyes shining, smiling. It was a moment.
Then I went back to the patio and chugged a vodka soda. Moment over.
Shanghai is the most amazing city I’ve ever seen. It looks like the future. Coming back to Doha (a city not without its merits) after ten days of gogogopartypartyparty sucks.
Shanghai < Doha
Shanghai < Doha
It’s okay though, DKM is here.
Speaking of DKM...
How happy is DKM? Kiiiiiiind of happy. I asked him to write a blog post on his feelings (haha) about Duke, but you know how that usually works out. Radio silence.
Sometimes when I use the Internet to call him out, he does what I want.