So, everything’s new again. Fresh phlegm on the pavement, new pollution in the air, and a palpable sense of misdirection and aimlessness that always floats around my head during this time. I’ve killed the my resolutions before they’ve even gathered the hint of momentum. I’m still jetlagged though I’ve back in Shanghai for a week. Nothing seems to work right in my house or in my head, and so 2006 doesn’t really feel like it’s taking off with flying colors.
Well, I did see some flying colors on Tuesday, mostly blood and snot, as I set off on my well-thought out plan to commute to my new job. Finally free of waking up at 6 am and cabbing over to my shuttle stop, my new shuttle stop is a hop, skip, and a 15 minute bike ride on Julie away. Perfect, I had thought; riding my bike to and from work signaled a proletariat Chinese ethic in me that meshed very well with my San Francisco eco-friendliness. I had become the perfect human; what a great way to start 2006.
Of course, just because the clock strikes midnight to usher in a new year doesn’t mean that I turn into a a new person; me being me, I’m as much of a pumpkin as I ever was. Waiting until the last minute to make sure my hair was well groomed and I smelled like Aqua di Geo, I set off on Julie for my first day on my new shuttle, to my new office, to my new job saving the world. THIS would be the starter I was looking for, the one thing to make me feel awash in newness and excitement.
Things sure change fast. Not only did my nose start bleeding right when I got to the entrance of my complex, someone decided to lay down a huge highway right in the middle of my route. I know Shanghai is growing super fast, but I was only gone for three weeks! After lifting Julie over the railing and into oncoming, psychotic traffic, I realized that I only had 5 minutes before the shuttle was to leave, and I was still 10 minutes away. I started pedaling furiously, somehow deluding myself, much as I often do when I tell myself that girls find small but abundant patches of hair on a man’s chest to be attractive, I tried my best to make it. Of course, the bag that was strapped to the back fell off in the middle of the road, and once I bent down to pick it up, my body heat and breath fogged up my glasses. Standing there, blind, sweaty, physically steaming, and imminently late for my shuttle bus, I finally stopped rushing and paused in a moment of reflection: why did the panda bear go into the bar, eat a burrito, shoot the man next to him, and then walk out the door? We may never know.
