A Post Four Months in the Making

Brace yourselves...

I hate this. I hate this more than Tennessee football. I hate this more than Christian Laettner of the early 90's. I hate this more than the Backstreet Boys, O-town, N'Sync, Britney, and Christina combined. I hate this more than bad summer movies. I hate this more than 80% of my time at Lipscomb. I hate this more than the Adair county marching band. I hate being a stooge. I hate being a pawn. I hate being a high-class call-boy who is treated well because of his nationality. I hate living here. I hate the joke that somebody should do this for more than an hour. I hate being the only person that feels this way. I hate living here. I HATE Baijio. I hate that I didn't leave three weeks into it. I hate being the center of attention every time I leave my apartment. I hate that I ever stepped on that plane out of Nashville. I hate that I haven't seen the sun in close to a month. I hate the one time that I listened to others instead of trusting my gut it turned into this. I HATE THIS.

I feel a little better; you must have seen that coming. I've wanted to type that almost every day, but I've always held back until now. I didn't want to scare anyone I guess. My coming home can't wait 13 days, 10 hours and 10 minutes. I guess it will have to.

Well, I will not divulge the event's that brought on this blog post. Divulging these events would take three hours of explaining, and I don't feel up for it. Honestly.

In the words of Haley Fuller, and I don't think she would mind me quoting her on this, "I definitely don't have reverse culture shock." Haley has been home a week tomorrow, and she has no reverse culture shock. You don't understand people. At my orientation they TOLD us we would have reverse culture shock and they TOLD us that it would be much worse than the initial culture shock when we left America (Of course, they also told us that once we recovered from initial culture shock we would enjoy life in China more than life in America; I can't speak for Haley, but I on the other hand...). I have seen people experience Chinese reverse culture shock, so I know it exists. When somebody has a total absence of it altogether, something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

I say this because I know I will follow suit. For a total of six hours I will be the happiest man to ever grace the confines of LAX. Let me tell you that. When I return to Nashville and venture out in public, you better believe I'm going to stand there wide-eyed and say "Nobody's staring at me. Nobody's STARING AT ME!" ("My mouth's bleeding Bert! My Mouth's Bleeding!"). I will have reverse culture euphoria. I'll be a hoot and a half for about a week, and after that I'll be just a hoot for the rest of all time.

Well here's another blog post just in case you thought I had a spontaneous, Dickensian, Christmas-inspired change of heart.

BAH!!!!

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

p.s. I might post the story tomorrow. I'm just too tired for it right now.

p.s.s. Man, it takes a lot of rage to hate something more than I hated Laettner in the early 90's. Really.