Another crazy dream: This one was Jon Glazeresque. I think it was maybe even Jon Glazer in the dream, so that makes sense. He throws a big party and gets mad at everyone for eating all the fruit. He then starts pressuring an alcoholic to drink alcohol. Also, Ian Carr got eaten by Cecily Breaux. I don't know where any of this stuff is coming from. I never dreamed at home. I like not dreaming much more than I like dreaming.
I woke up at 8 am to my phone ringing. It's a school from Bejing calling to tell me they won't offer me a job because it will be to difficult to transfer my visa. What a great way to start the day.
I skip the pears and head straight for the subway. It's my day off, so I am heading to Nanjing to go to an Ex-pat Q&A session. On the subway over, tons of men are filming the giant lake out of the subway window with their cellphones. I take pictures sometimes for my blog or insta or whatever, but not nearly as much as the Chinese and I'm not from here. Who is going to watch these videos of lakes? It makes no sense to me.
I check the Ex-pat nanjing group message and have gotten more terrible suggestions for Gaochun. Someone said Gaochun was a big tourist spot and when I asked for what he didn't know. Multiple people told me they had apps where they could find things to do in Gaochun, but none of them have found anything. One person said they say lots of ex-pats in a park in gaochun, but no one knows anyone who lives here. A new group was created called Ex-Pats of Lishui and Gaochun and it only has about 30 people. I'm the only one in Gaochun, the rest are in Lishui.
On the subway, I try to meditate, but I keep falling over so I stop. It's hard to meditate while standing on a subway, but it's also hard to read or play video games while standing. I've started burping again, I don't know if it's GERD based or not. I've been calling them hunger burps though. It seems to happen when I haven't had rice for a while.
I get lost getting off the subway. The event set exit 26 but there is no exit 26 at the station. I end up arriving at the Real Bed Cafe thirty minutes late, but I'm still the first person there other then the hosts.
The hosts are Waz and Marco, though it seems like it's really mostly Waz's thing. They both have coffees and pastries and say I should go grab something. I say I'm fine but in reality, I'm just too poor.
Waz is a thirty something Australian guy with a big beard, Marco is a 40 something Italian with a big beard. They both teach, but in there spare time help out expat groups and also help run a nightclub. The both seem like really nice guys, but there is a sleaze to them I can't quite put my finger on.
The first piece of advice I'm given is to throw my toilet paper away.
"Chinese toilets can't handle toilet paper," says Waz. "Just keep a little waste basket next to the toilet and throw it out every once and a while."
"That's disgusting."
"You get used to it."
There is no way I'm doing that. No one here in Gaochun told me to do that. I'm gonna keep flushing my paper until my toilet breaks, I don't care.
Waz and Marco said Peter wasn't lying to me about my eBike. That's a new regulation and there is nothing I can do to stop the beeping.
Was says, "Maybe try an eBike shop." Super helpful.
For shopping for groceries or clothes, Waz recommended a website called TaoBao and said I could use google chrome to translate websites into English. When I tried this at home later, I couldn't figure out how to do it. I don't know if Waz has a special google chrome or if I'm just shit with computers, but I hae a hunch it's the later. It would be great to buy groceries and clothes in English though.
Waz recommends that if I want to work on my Chinese, I should ask some of the teachers at the school to help me. I'm nervous about talking to the other teachers, but I guess it's worth a shot.
For my cold, Waz and Marco say I'm fucked.
"Just wait it out. Everyone's sick for their first three months in China. Your body has to become immune to the new germs."
3 months sounds like a hellishly long time to be sick.
For mail, they recommended the schools address. When I told them the school opens my mail, they were very surprised but then recommended asking about getting a P.O. box in my apartment complex. This all sounds so difficult, what with me not speaking Chinese and all.
For transferring money to America, Waz said it takes a really long time and I need to collect all my tax forms from the school and have them use that to help me transfer the money. Marco suggested setting up a Chinese paypal and transferring the money to my American paypal through that. This all sounds so fucking complicated. Waz also tells me to start using my Alipay instead of WeChat. He says it's been around longer and seems like a safer system. My school has told me they will pay me through WeChat, which is frustrating.
I pull Marco aside and whisper in his ear about getting larger sized condoms. He seems like a big guy, I assume he gets it. He says Durex works for him but otherwise to try Taobao. I'm maybe a crazy person, but to me it seems more embarrassing to buy condoms on the internet then it is to buy condoms in the store. I'm more worried about people seeing my purchase history then I am getting a look from a shop owner.
Then she shows up. Fernanda. I won't tell you her race because that's private information, but she has a thick accent and everyone's head turns as soon as she walks in. She doesn't seem to notice. Waz is all over her, the creepy bastard. She asks all sorts of questions, and Waz slimely answers each and everyone one. I have actually asked most of my questions, but want to stick around to possibly get one last piece of information/possibly hang out with this Fernanda girl. When it seems like the event is wrapping up, I ask Fernanda if I can get her WeChat, what with us being both new to Nanjing. She lets me scan her phone. I'm such a smooth operator.
As we walk towards the subway, I ask Fernanda what she is doing for the rest of the day. She says she has no plans and I say I was thinking about checking out the Presidential Palace and ask if she would like to join me. She says yes.
The Presidential Palace costs 40 dollars. I'm giving up spending my 40 bucks on my original plan for this evening, but it seems worth it to spend an afternoon with this beautiful woman. When we get to the front, it's cash only. I only have WeChat so Fernanda buys my ticket. When I try to pay her back, her WeChat won't accept it because she hasn't set up her bank account yet.
We walk around the Presidential Palace but mostly just talk to each other and make silly little jokes. None of this impressed either of us much, it was much more like an office building than a castle, but we paid so we walked around and tried to see everything.The Presidential was basically the White House when Nanjing was the capital in the 20s. We joked about the chairs looking uncomfortable and the curtains looking depressing and looked at the little gardens. We talked about T.V. (Fernanda like high school dramas.) We joked about the Chinese taking pictures of everything and then took a photo at the same spot just so we could prove we really went. It was a pleasant evening.
Afterwards, we went to the Nanjing Library, which is the third largest library in China. The English books filled two shelves and were all complete crap. Fernanda also speaks Spanish and she said they had a better selection of Spanish books. I asked Fernanda what she was currently reading. She said, "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus."
We took the subway for a little bit and then said goodbye. I got on the wrong train because I got all flustered by Fernanda's beauty, and had to get back on and go back on stop to make the correct transfer. Because I still had my 42 RMB, I decided to head back to Finnegan's Wake to finish my plan (instead of using it to buy more food like a smart person.)
She was there, behind the counter, just like I was hoping, just standing behind the bar, waiting for me.
"It's Tuesday, you came back."
"I did. Last time I was here I forgot to get your name?"
"I'm Metal."
Metal. Have you ever heard a more beautiful name? (Pronounced May-Tall, not metal)
"I'm Ian."
This was the owner of the bar. He seemed completely obllvious to the fact that I had obviously just come here to hit on Metal. I tried to talk to Metal a bit, but Ian kept interrupting. I found out that Metal wants to be a fashion designer, which I think is super cool. The Ian mentioned he was a singer, grabbed his guitar, and started singing "Summertime." I drank a Bombay Saphire. Metal asked if I wanted another, but I said No because I had to catch my train (but really because I am poor). Ian said it was nice meeting me and gave me a bottle of beer for the road.
As I paid I asked Metal, "Hey, umm, can I get your WeChat?"
"Oh, uhhhhh."
"I'm sorry if that was inappropriate."
"No it's not inappropriate at all. Let me write it down."
Metal gives me a teeny tiny piece of paper with her number on it. I say thanks and leave.
I got it. I got her number. Salma and Fernanda were both beautiful, but it was Metal. It was always Metal.
On my train ride home, I feel so fucking cool. Two girls numbers in one day has to be a record for me. On the crowded train, I get an email from Ryan and Tommy about having a business meeting for our movie. This makes me so happy too. I am so excited about this script Tommy and I have been working on. I really want all this stuff to work out. The movie, the girls, all of it. For the first time in a while, I start to feel that hope creeping back in.
Then I got home and eat more rice. I'm out of eggs and mushrooms now, so it's just rice, soy sauce and oyster sauce.
Then I sleep. The rice always makes me so tired.
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