Just tired. And reflective. And sensitive to blood sugar dropping. I was shaky and irritable while tutoring because I didn't eat enough. (tutoring from 3-7:30 is annoying A: because it's every Saturday and B: because it means a late din-din).
By the time I met up with my friend Jes to get our hairs done, I was gunning for some grub.
So we grabbed steamed black corn on the cob. I so wish I had a picture.
So there I was biking through downtown, one hand on the handbars and the other hand holding a cob of black corn wrapped in a plastic baggy - and shoving it in my face one huge, chewy, yummy bite at a time.
And I had a moment.
(Don't you love those?)
This was my thought: I am riding a pink bike around Chi.na on a Saturday night eating a corn on the cob with my hands. Weaving in and out of cars and pedestrians. I'm awesome. This is awesome.
Then I went to the hair place and decided I might cheat on my usual hair dude - Qu Ping, with the newly-returned-from-a-year-in-Japan hair dude who is Mongolian and has curly hair scaling down his back. Just because he looks so exotic and I want to hear his stories. And who doesn't want a Mongolian to do their hair at least once in life?
walk slow. xoxo.