A few days ago I had two epiphanies. One was bad, one was good. (I never said I would always be an entertaining writer.)
First, earlier in the day it hit me like a brick that I can't be counted on. I was frustrated at my fickleness for something or another, and because I like to boil everything down to one simple sentence, I was searching for a way to pin down the trait in that way. Then it came to me: I can't be counted on. Like, pretty pathologically. This would be a suitable honest-to-goodness answer in a potential employee application: What are your weaknesses? I can't be counted on. What a horrible trait for someone to have...I am making serious conscious strides towards changing. At the very least I recognize it as a huge problem (or rather a major pain in the ass for all my friends) and am in the process of taking baby steps towards improvement, like keeping dinner plans.
Cindy and I were discussing this at dinner at Element Fresh later that evening when I had the realization that I have become who I've basically always wanted to become: a silly kid living in one of the largest cities in the world, moderately well-to-do, having fantastic warm and fuzzy moments in a nice atmosphere on a daily basis. Afterwards, we rode through Xujiahui complaining about traffic when we looked around and realized that we were in the middle of a twelve-lane intersection. Twelve. And this is a daily thing for us. We don't live outside the city, in a suburb or smaller community. We live in it. The closest Starbucks is in a seven story mall surrounded by other malls that are larger than seven stories. It's rare to wait more than five minutes for a taxi outside the school gates. On a late night we can hit four or five different venues. No matter how much I may complain or how homesick I get, my life here is incredible. China ain't all bad.
Beer and karaoke to celebrate.