The Brain Dump

Alright, so it's clearly Wednesday, but I am posting this here anyway. Christina and I have decided to embark on the mystical voyage that is the National Novel Writing Month challenge once again. With a slight twist: April is actually Script Frenzy, during which people are supposed to write a one-hundred-page screenplay in thirty days. This can be for a movie, TV show, play, whatever. That's what Christina's doing. She's writing a screenplay. I, however, still have a novel to finish, so I will be doing a standard NaNoWriMo: 50,000 words, 30 days. That's 1,666.6666 . . . words a day.

I'm pretty confident, as I have yet to fail, having done it . . . one and a half(-ish) times. It does seem to be the best way for me to vomit a first draft onto my computer. And I can't imagine that I have (much) more than 50,000 words to go in the novel. I say this now . . . who knows? But if I don't finish I'll be damn close.

Wish us luck!

We have completely moved into our new apartment (except for the water heater in the shower, which delivers a mild electric shock when used (I was the one who discovered that), so we have to traipse back to our old apartment to take a shower), and it is so much better than our old one. So much better. It's less drafty. It has a tile floor instead of concrete. And it's on the fifth floor, which puts us above the mosquitoes and such . . . even if it is a trek every time to get up and down.

And this Pic o' the Week is our new view out our living room window. It's . . . well, it's special.

Christina's mother informed us that it looked just like the pictures Christina's brother is taking of Iraq.

Joyous.

I'm not gonna lie . . . I know I should update this thing tonight. But I'm not going to (aside from this). And the reason is because of Thomas Pynchon. I just started the last chapter in his book V., and, well, that trumps blog right now.

I recommend it.

OK . . . back to reading.

Alrighty, we are back from Linzhou and do I have some pictures for you!

Yes.

Here we go.

Oy, I'm getting all gwiggly thinking about it.

OK, OK.

Here I am:

The grossness factor was huge. And it did not help that our New Zealander friend, Robert, was popping them into his mouth easy-as-can-be. But Christina really wanted to try one. And did:


That's Robert behind her. The amused looking Polish man to my left is Adam. He is Polish. Christina ate hers first; I required more convincing. She told me happily, "Tastes like popcorn!" This did not make it easier. The doodles were all very amused. Here's the problem: they brought the little arachnids out before everybody toasted us and got super-wasted-face. No, no, no, doodles. You bring the gross looking stuff out after . . . after . . . sigh. It would have been so much easier after.

Though it did taste a little like popcorn. . . .

So I meant to finish a blog post I started yesterday, as well as update it today and tomorrow . . . but we are being hijacked (shanghaied?) and taken to this middle school in another town so our administration can show off their foreigners. We have to stay overnight because on Sunday the school's principal is doing us such a favor by giving us a tour of the Red Flag Canal. I wouldn't be quite so annoyed if the Chinese weren't acting like this is some big favor they are doing us. Like we were begging them to drag us away in a crappy van at 7am to work on our weekend.

We found out we would have no weekend on Thursday evening. It's called planning doodles. Get with it.

But I don't want to do Doodle Day . . . sigh, that sounds so pathetic. Maybe it is. What do you want from me? How many of you even care?

I was tired today. I don't know why. I only had two classes, and I got to sleep in till 8:50. Maybe it's the heat. It got hot all of a sudden in Anyang--like, 80s. And I was told it is "the time of the dust storms," which in addition to sounding like part two of a fantasy epic can be a pain to walk through.

It was pointed out to me that the Yunnan Trip Pt. 2 album was missing from my Snapfish. I forgot to make it public. Problem fixed.

I'll do doodles later . . . probably Thursday.

Peace out, yo.

This Pic o' the Week is what we call a cop-out, kids. Daddy's tired and he doesn't have any pictures on his computer because a big bad doodle made him format his system and reinstall Windows.

That's right, kids, "Booooooo on that doodle!"

But the good news is, right before we lost the internet, Christina and I uploaded the second half of our pictures from our Yunnan trip to Snapfish. Does everyone remember where that is? That's right!

And what was the room code? You better believe it's chinaphotos!

Very good, kids. Now. Oh last thing: Do you know what today is, kids? That's right it's the Ides of March! Do you know what happened today, a long, long time ago? Well, a bunch of grumpy old white men stabbed a man over twenty times until he was just a bloody mess--thereby blurring the line between a republic and mob-rule and also becoming the evil they sought to destroy.

That's right, kids, "Yaaaaaaaaaay, republics!"

So it's been over a week since my last update. And I know what you're thinking. "Chris, you were doing so well. Four days in a row; one of them had a little substance . . . what happened, dude?"

I'll tell you what happened.

I'll tell you what happened.

The doodlenet happened s'what happened!

That's right. This wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault (In fairness, OK, Thursday, Friday: my fault--over a week: not my fault). And Christina is my witness. You'll notice last Thursday is the last day she updated (before today). And going more than a week without an update is pretty un-Christina. So she was screwed by the doodlenet too.

I just used the word "s'what" . . .

Ohhhhhhhh, the week we've had. I believe both of us were close to frustrated tears on no less than two occasions. Don't get me wrong: China is wonderful. The Chinese people are (for the most part) kind-hearted, generous people. But, my god, they're incompetent when it comes to organizing. And problem-solving. I'm talking basic problem-solving skills. Like don't-just-stand-there-playing-with-your-doodles-till-it-fixes-itself skills. It doesn't take a lot.

So Christina and I lost the internet on Sunday. I was on Skype with my mother (for a grand total of one minute and nine seconds) when it happened. Then nothing. We called our doodle-liason (doodlason?), James, to get someone over to look at it. He came over to look at it. He is not a computer technician. He is not the doodle we needed. But whatever. He comes over and concludes (*smacks forehead*) the internet's not working. That was Tuesday. Wednesday, Christina and I call this doodle dude (dood), Robert Zhang, who's pretty savvy with the computers so we figgered he'd show this doodlenet what-what. Mmmmm, Christina's Mac and my Linux machines threw him for a doodley loop. He spent an hour and a half trying to figure out what was up, to no avail. He ended with a shaky conclusion that the modem was broken. That sounded right to Christina and me, and it gelled with our Kiwi friend Robert's story that he had major probs with the intertubes until he made the doodles get him a new modem. Then everything was glorious. So we tell James we want a new modem. That was Thursday. James doesn't want to get us a new modem. He says it's our machines. Clearly Linux and the Mac OS are incapable of accessing the doodlenet . . . even though Christina had it for five months!

Whatever. Whatever.

So, Friday, I dragged my computer over to Christina's and my new apartment (we're moving--more on that when I'm not ranting) to setup the internet and phone. I bring our modem because no one will give us a new one. What do you know, it don't work. So today, finally, the repairdoodles come over and take a look at the internet. I was forced (with no other option) to reinstall lame-dows XP to the university's computer. They fiddle with it for thirty seconds. It won't work. "Wah, I'm a doodle." They just stand there. Doodling at each other. They unplug the modem. They plug it back in. No dice. "Wah." They unplug it again. They plug it back in. "Wah."

Goddammit!

Finally, I walk over to the modem, I point to it, and in my shaky doodles I say, "我想这个不好. 我要一个新这个." The doodles look at each other. One walks off and starts doodling into his cell phone. Another doodle comes up to the apartment. He has a new modem. We plug it in, and (*smacks forehead*), it fucking works.

Jesus Christ! Would it have been so hard just to try a new modem?! Ai-yai-yai. So, long story short: I had to show the repairmen how to problem-solve. They couldn't get Christina's Mac to go, either. About an hour ago, I took a look at it. Three seconds later, she had the internet. The problem was they kept trying to connect via some Ppp03 or something or another. What did I do? I tried a DHCP connection. Just for shits and grins.

Sigh . . . anywho. I'll stop. But . . . geez. So we have the internet now, and Christina and I are both exhausted. And so frustrated it hurts. But now we're both hungry, so we're gonna get get some munchies. I'll keep up with my posts again (doodlenet willing).

I have ascended beyond the ranks of mere mortals. I have broken the chains that hold my body restrained. I have finally taken the next step in human evolution.

I . . . have installed Linux.

Hey-ooooooooh! I have workstations, now! Workstations!

That's right. I'm one of those nerds now (That was almost the title of this post ("One of Those Nerds" (I opted for the poetic instead))). All I need to do now is vote third party and I'm practically moving to Montana and mailing people "care packages".

And, yes: Using Linux makes me better than you.

It has been . . . a learning experience. Much easier than I thought it would be. All this came about because of my laptop. It's at best half-dead. My first tip-off was the disc drive. It started making very, very labored noises when I tried to do anything with CDs. Then I lost sound. Then the USB ports on the right side all stopped working. It's like my baby had a stroke! That's when I frantically started backing up my data (by using one of the two still-functional USB ports to load everything onto my 4GB flash drive, transferring it to Christina's laptop, and burning it onto DVDs with her computer). It was quite the process.

So then I had a choice. We have a computer that was given to us by the university, but it has doodle Windows on it. Doodle Windows helps no one. I will now admit that Linux was not my first solution. Instead, I tried to install this obviously pirated version of English Windows that was given to me by a tech-y Chinese teacher at the university. It installed fine, but Windows's new Verification Bullshit boned me. Should I feel indignant? I want to. Mainly because it's Microsoft--how dare they make me buy a legitimate version of their product! However. with my current salary, dropping one hundred and thirty bucks American is a big chunk of my income. In short:

Fuck that.

And this is when I took the first step (leap? I'll call it a leap) towards the open-source-and-loving arms of Linux. I had no idea which one to use. There's, like, seven bjillion. But after a quick tour of wikipedia I had my answer. I would use Fedora. Because my love of noir holds strong.

There have been some hiccups, though I'm realizing now that has more to do with the Chinese shit-ass hardware. Installing it took well over three hours because the stupid disc drive decided to take a break ever three seconds. But, a few quibbles aside, I really like Fedora. I instinctively got the latest version (10), though now I'm not so sure if that was a good idea. Less in the way of software developed. But (most) everything's free, I haven't had to pay a dime yet, and now there are zero viruses written for my system.

And I have workstations.

I only have three major points of frustration: 1) No VPN. Or, rather, there's no free VPN service that I can find like Hotspot Shield for Windows and Macs. Not a huge problem, except that I live in China, so, once again, my internet is censored.

2) No Quicktime. You'd think some nerd would have thought of a substitute by now, but, alas, no such nerd. That's more just annoying because all it means is I have to go to Christina's laptop in order to run the software that came with my digital camera.

3) There is a steep learning curve. That certainly shouldn't discourage anyone from trying it--there are a lot of easy to find FAQs and How-tos . . . but, the second those assume any kind of knowledge on my part, I have quite a bit of googling to do before I unpack what the hell they're talking about.

But I am willing to learn, which I have discovered is probably the only thing you really need to be in order to tackle the L-to-the-inux. My friend, Nate, once told me that he thought Linux fit better with my mindset. I dig that . . . in that I'll assume he was talking about my socialist leanings in a good way. Does that make me an elitist, nerdy schmuck? Why, yes, I do believe it does.

Seriously, though, Democrats: step it up--I'll vote Green.

Hoowah! Force of will!

So I've been able to keep up with my latest resolution to update this thing more . . . at least three days going. How long does it take to form a habit in your brains? At least longer than a week, as that seems to be when my mind wonders over to something else. A glance at any random month in my archives can probably provide enough evidence to back that up.

I am still plagued by the question of why. Why is my mind so prone to scatter? It's really quite frustrating. Frustrating for other people, too. Mainly Christina . . . she has to deal with me every day, anyway.

Good lord, I'm tired. I taught another three classes today and then Christina and I went to a nearby public pool to swim laps. I remain pathetically out of shape. Christina kept laughing when I tried to do the backstroke. . . . (though that may have been because of my random declarations of being "Michael Phelps" and "the greatest(!)")

Two doodle children stared at me while I changed out of my bathing suit.

I understand if you're stealing glances out of curiosity. And, naturally, how could you not be captivated by this bod? But these two kids were staring at me, and while I stripped down. The doodles really don't get how unnerving that is to an American. They saw my penis. I guess, in all fairness, I did see theirs. But they didn't seem to care. . . .

They were talking about me, too. Even if I didn't know the Chinese for "American" and "foreigner," it was obvious they were talking about me. And the older gentleman they were with just chuckled at them. Made me grumble. I ended up talking to them very briefly (once I was fully clothed, natch), and, well . . . lied to them.

They kept referring to me as "American person." That's a common assumption here: that all foreigners (read: white people) = American. I wanted to rattle them, because they had so rattled me by studying my nakedness. I told them I wasn't American, I was English. One of them seemed amazed I knew any Chinese; the other didn't look like he particularly cared. I left after that.

A petty lie? Yes. I remain human.

They started it!