I carried a lot of lofty goals into my vacation. I planned to study Chinese again, assemble cute, tiny clothes for my friend's children, and visit all of those places that I've been meaning to see. As it turns out, when given the chance to do whatever I want, I will choose to stay in bed all day and forego basic hygiene (then again, not a huge deviation from when I was studying). I will watch funny shows and foreign films on my laptop and laugh hysterically to myself and sip whiskey out of a coffee mug at 11 in the morning. If my life was a movie, I'd start to grow a beard and balance beer cans on my gut right about now. Of course, all of this will come to a screeching halt when I start my new job, so I am enjoying it for a couple of days. It feels like a nice privilege.
I left my bed long enough to watch Alice In Wonderland, witness my friend's elaborate wedding proposal (it was a happy ending - she managed to stutter "yes" between sobs), eat warm guava pastries at Tropicana Cafe (http://www.yelp.com/biz/tropicana-bakery-and-cuban-cafe-downey), and spend a few days with my grandmother. My grandmother and I made "mantou," which are plain, steamed buns, a staple food in Northern China.
(Our mantou did not look as flawless as the above picture, but you get the idea.)
I stopped by the library and stocked up on reading material and funny movies. Right now, I'm reading The Convalescent by Jessica Anthony. The book is about a short man who sells meat out of a stationary bus. I forgot what it felt like to read for the sake of sheer of enjoyment. I'm falling in love with beautiful words all over again. My head is spinning from word lust. It feels like I am holding a small, smiling secret.