I’ve discovered I’m highly sensitive to changes in the barometric pressure. I was so very, very sleepy today. Not surprisingly, we had a thunderstorm in the afternoon. But I was able to finish my walk and check on the kitten.
The food I put down before was gone. I put down fresh water and some wet and dry cat food.
I didn’t see the kitten today, but I arrived a lot earlier than I usually do. I normally walk at night, but I put everything down at the same spot.
Not sure what her future will be. I really don’t want to adopt a kitten right now. I know that seems heartless, but I don’t want the responsibility. I make so little money now. And I vowed that when I couldn’t take my dog to the vet all those years ago, that I would not have another pet unless I was absolutely sure I had the money to pay for one.
And on this day, in 1997, incomprehensively worse.
If you were around then, you remember. It was a Saturday night, and I was over at my brother’s house, using the internet. My own computer was so ancient, it couldn’t handle the internet, but I could get email, something baffling to my friends. How could you get one without the other? Well, it was happening. I was over at my brother’s house looking for information about Puerto Rico. I’d be going there two days later.
Funny the things you remember. There had been a boil water alert a couple days before, but my brother, being paranoid, was still boiling water. I heard a crash of glass while I was in the computer room. Apparently a glass lid had exploded. Bits of hot glass were gluing themselves to the vinyl floor.
I think the television was on; I vaguely heard bits saying Princess Diana had been in a car crash in Paris.
Shortly after, I went home. Dad was in the recliner, the news also on, watching the coverage. We watched and watched, and then the announcement came she had died.
I don’t think I cried, I remember feeling stunned. I was preoccupied by my trip, and I didn’t watch the funeral either. I was in Puerto Rico at the time, and a friend had unexpectedly joined me down there. I think we were out exploring during the funeral. Either that, or asleep.
I had a fascination with the British Royal Family. So elegant, yet so fucked up. I wondered how Queen Elizabeth felt about it all. She seemed so very hardworking, so dedicated to her position; how could it be her children couldn’t stay married? And got involved in all sorts of crazy shit?
One could argue that she believed her job as queen meant that came first. It’s not a job she had expected to get, but her uncle decided love was better than the throne, and he gave it up. That seems like an incredibly brave choice considering that Wallis Simpson was twice divorced. He couldn’t be sure that his marriage would last, and that he would have given up a throne for nothing.
But the marriage did last.
I had high respect for Queen Elizabeth. For someone who didn’t expect the job but had it foisted on her, I always wondered if she resented her uncle. What would her life had been like if she hadn’t been queen? Would she have been like Princess Margaret, freewheeling and outrageous, but deeply unhappy, as it seems the royals are when it comes to love and marriage?
The only way I felt she put a foot wrong was after Diana died. She had to have known how beloved Diana was. To not acknowledge her death or at least address the nation was incredibly stupid. Yes, she said she was protecting Diana’s sons, but come on now. Just because she was trained to never show emotion in public didn’t mean all of England had to maintain a stiff upper lip too.
I know I couldn’t be in that position and not be emotional. I’m too emotional. A particular song, an amazing floor exercise routine or skating program, all of that chokes me up. A particular scene in a movie. So many things set me off.
So yeah, for Queen Elizabeth, good job. But huge PR blunder when your finest ambassador for royalty died and you wouldn’t speak to your people until the prime minister and your son suggested (or was it demanded?) you do so.
And it’s been 28 years. Strange how fast life goes by.
And it’s also strange how some things never seem to change, for some people.
I hope Diana is resting in peace, knowing that no matter how the royal family felt about her, she was beloved worldwide. I wonder about life. It seemed like it was jam-packed for her, only for it to be over when she was 36.
She’d lived half of her life at age 18.
I was an idiot kid then.
And if she could have done it all over again, would she had given it up to marry someone less well known, who hadn’t had a past lover he couldn’t quite let go of?
Would she have married at all?
Would she be just another nameless, faceless, senior citizen housewife now?
It was windy earlier today. I saw most of my laundry hanging out to dry over on the very edge of the hanging bars suspended from my balcony ceiling. One of the hangers actually had fallen off one of the bars and was on the very edge of the balcony.
I retrieved it, but looking down at the ground, saw something. Was it one of my shirts? I couldn’t remember what all I’d hung out to dry the night before, so I went down to check.
It was a t-shirt, but wasn’t mine. I guessed that maybe it came from my building, but it was impossible to know. I’ve seen some fierce winds and clothing items carried hundreds of yards from where they came from.
So I went out and got the shirt and hung it on the doorhandle to the entrance of my building.
If it’s still there in a couple days, I might hang it in a busier place.
My second good deed of the day was feeding and watering the stray kitten inside the grounds of the university I couldn’t get into the other night. It is a very noisy kitten. I got to see more of it tonight. A new c-store opened up and I asked if they sold cat food. They ponied up three small tubes of food after I told them the story of the kitten.
I went home and got a takeout container and some water, and brought it back to the spot. I was able to reach through the fence and put a paper plate down with a tube of food, and some water.
The kitten drank for quite a while. I don’t know if she touched the food.
I’m thinking I might find a sympathetic college student who might let me into the entrance with them, then I can go to the kitten’s spot and maybe catch it.
I don’t know why it’s so noisy. It doesn’t look hurt, but it could be full of worms or fleas for all I know. I just feel bad for it. Where’s it’s mom? Is the mom dead?
In China’s subway system, they have walls and doors so no one can throw themselves (and no one can push you) in front of a train.
The top photo is what it looks like when there’s no train in the station. There is an ad on the opposite wall, because we can’t waste space. The bottom photo is what it looks like when a train comes into the station.
Both sets of doors open, and there’s only room to step into the train.
It seems weird that in the United States, preventing things isn’t thought about. But China seems to think about these things a bit more.
I think that’s why 9/11 horrified us so much. I wondered if when they were building the Twin Towers, if making it strong enough to withstand commercial airplanes being flown into them was ever brought up.
Probably not.
Americans like to think, “oh, no one would ever be crazy enough to do that.”
But your average American can’t conceive of anyone being so desperate for a cause that they would be willing to DIE for it.
That’s why understanding poverty, hardship, and other cultures is so important. Because what would you be willing to do, when it came down to it.
And what are others capable of?
At least this way, you can’t commit suicide or murder by subway.
Hanging around Three Lanes, Seven Alleys on the main pedestrian street when I got a slice of America served up to me. I don’t know if he was shooting at the person’s knee or something else. I deliberately cropped their faces out.
CNN called it “absolutely incomprehensible.”
I call it, ”Just another day in the United States.”
I’m talking about the Annunciation Church shooting in Minneapolis.
I realize I’m a pessimist. But it’s really hard for me to believe people who have survived shootings–be it at a concert, grocery store, nightclub, or church–when they say, “I thought it was a joke.”
Or, “I heard ‘pop, pop, pop’ and thought it was fireworks.
Or, “I couldn’t believe it.”
I was out with a friend garbage picking several years ago. We were in a “questionable” side of town when we heard a “pop, pop, pop.” My friend said we had to leave immediately.
It was past 1 a.m. on a weeknight. It wasn’t near the fourth, so it wasn’t fireworks. But I had a hunch I knew what it was. A day and a half later, it was in the paper. Someone had shot an AR-15.
What I don’t understand is how clueless people seem to be when it comes to shootings anymore. ‘I thought it was a joke.” “I thought it was fireworks.”
Why?
I think it’s because Americans are in deep denial. Shootings don’t happen “here.” They happen hundreds if not thousands of miles away. Nothing to worry about here, until it happens.
The irony of this is that the people shot at were literally praying. PRAYING, and yet they weren’t saved.
It was the usual suspect of course–young, unhappy white guy. Although this one came with a twist–according to what I read, he wanted to be a girl. The shooter was transsexual. Not exactly what those in that community need right now–another reason for people to hate them.
This guy (and I will choose to address this person as a guy) knew he was unhappy. Reading parts of his manifesto confirmed that. But if he was so unhappy, why not just commit suicide (which he did) without shooting anyone except himself? Why take out people with you? It doesn’t help your popularity/sympathy ratings, that’s for sure.
And since I’m a natural pessimist, my take on these shootings is that it’s never going to stop.
When Sandy Hook happened, I thought for sure, “if nothing is done about gun violence now, nothing will be done.”
It’s 2025. I remember that day because it was so close to Christmas and I was driving down a very busy street in my town. One of the businesses on that street had a gigantic American flag flying. It was at half-mast and I thought, “who died?”
It made me think of when I was in kindergarten and first grade, as those grades were targeted by the shooter, another angry young white guy.
I never worried anything like that when I was that age. School back then was new and exciting. I had a crush on a different boy each week. There was a doll I never got to play with because one of my classmates got to the back of the room quicker than I did. I remember my mom coming in and speaking to the teacher. I wasn’t a kid that would fight, and never learned to fight. I became frustrated and unhappy when I was bullied.
And if I ever stood up for myself, nothing good ever happened.
I’ve been spoiled, living in China for the past six and a half years. I go out and don’t worry about being shot. I go to places where there’s a lot of people, and still I’m not worried.
But sometimes I do a double take when I’m out in public and someone has a gun.
The naive thinking has to stop.
If I’m not mistaken, the shooter obtained these firearms legally.
So he went through the right channels and it still happened.
There are some people who just shouldn’t have access to guns. I could jokingly say, “keep firearms away from young white guys and the shootings just might go down,” but some other group would probably take up the slack.
“Absolutely incomprehensible”? No. You wish. This is just another day in the United States.
Today was literally the first time in weeks that I woke up without setting an alarm and left the house before noon. This is major for me. I’m not a morning person, and never will be.
I’d wanted to visit Guling National Resort since I first saw it about a year ago. People connected with my school took us there. It was sort of a reunion for them, and invited me and another colleague to go.
It’s a cool place, but a bit odd. It was started as a resort 100 years ago by some scholars and missionaries. There’s a detailed article about it here.
I went there almost a year ago. Some colleagues were having a reunion, and invited me and another co-worker to come along.
Anyway, there’s an interesting story about it that I’ll mention briefly. Milton Gardner, an American who spent the first 10 years of his life in Guling (Kuliang) was whispering “Kuliang, Kuliang,” on his deathbed. He meant to visit his childhood home, but never made it back.
His wife, after several visits to China, finally figured out exactly where Kuliang was, and made the trip in his honor.
Then vice president Xi Jinping helped to make it happen, and he and Milton’s wife exchanged gifts.
Anyway, the odd part of this is that it seems that a few people live in this resort. That’s right, it’s for tourists, but imagine going to a resort and having people live in it full-time. That’s what I discovered today. Some of the residents have cafes, small restaurants, tea shops, or sell fruits/vegetables, but a few residences looked like they weren’t selling anything at all.
There was even a tiny McDonald’s near the entrance to the parking lot.
It’s a pleasant place. Very narrow roads, old buildings, a church even. Lots and lots of steps. And cool. That’s the reason why the missionaries/scholars built villas there; to escape the Fuzhou heat. And I can see how pleasant it would be to have a place with like-minded people up in the mountains. It’s almost like a cozy little town.
I can’t remember the name of this hotel, but it is NOT “The Teddy Bear Hotel.” But it sure is a cute way to draw attention to the business.This is only the second time I can remember being this close to a praying mantis. I was hoping to get some nature pictures, and nature obliged.As tiny as this community was, they included a photo studio and photo finishing place. But I guess photography was popular at the time: Kodak’s “Brownie” camera came out in 1901, the year Milton Gardner started spending his summers here.The inscription says both foreigners and Chinese are welcome to use the well.The Chinese Blue-Tailed Skink. Reminds me of the little lizards you see all the time in Puerto Rico.
Had an online class I was attending. Went for a walk after, and tried to rescue a kitten. Couldn’t get to it, but left some water and chicken for it.
It’s on a college campus. It was near a fence where I was walking, and the kitten was quite loud. I tried to get on campus, but the gates were fully functional. I asked the security guard if I could get in and help the kitten, but he said no.
College campuses in China are fairly secure. There might be three or four gates, but all of them have security guards on duty. And unless there’s another gate that’s a little more open, I won’t be able to get on the campus. You have to have a security QR code in your phone and show it to the security gates to get them to open up.
Not sure what to do next. Maybe there’s another way to get in.
The cats here in China are so remarkably chill. I hardly ever hear a cat screeching or taking off, not even in crowds. When I was in Xiamen, I saw people carrying cats around their necks.
And on Zhongshan Road, there was a cat laying in a planter, with thousands of people going by, and just looked super relaxed.
And here’s one in the main street of Three Lanes, Seven Alleys, being petted by what looks like a half dozen kids.
I sort of wonder if the chillness of cats reveals China’s society at large. Cats in the states seem on the verge of breakdown every single second (much like the populaton) whereas the cats here are incredibly zen.
This caught my eye the other day, so much so that I went in to look at the price.
Of course, at $2500 USD, it’s not in the budget.
Seeing this though, made me wish there were more thrift stores in China. But they are not so much a thing here.
China has had such tremendous growth in the past 40-50 years, that a lot of people are middle class now, or maybe even wealthy, and they aren’t in the mood for second-hand clothes, which is totally understandable.
Something that I liked to do back in the states was to go through Vogue, Harper’s B, and see what outfits were hot. Then, I’d go to the thrift stores to replicate the look.
I’m pretty sure if I could find a trenchcoat here, and some good scissors, I could cut this down and have a simlar look for cheap.
If I do try this, I’ll have to buy a coat retail, cut it down, and hope for the best.
A $20 mistake I can afford to make, but an $80, not so much.
Maybe someday I’ll be home again and I can try this.
In China, WeChat is a really popular social media app. You can use it to buy stuff, which is my primary use for it. I also use it to communicate with people. There’s an interesting feature where you push on the message, and if it’s in Chinese, you can choose to translate it. So it’s helpful to communicate with people if you are Mandarin-challeneged. It’s a bit slower to communicate, but the Chinese can do the same thing by translating English. So both parties can communicate in the language they are comfortable with, and WeChat will hande the pretty accurate translation.
The other day someone messaged me and asked if I’d traveled a bit this summer. I didn’t recognize the sender, but school is starting soon, and since they addressed me as “teacher” I figured it might be a new student.
Nope.
This person started getting pretty pushy with me, saying that he could swing by my house and pick me up and take me to some interesting places here in Fuzhou.
No Way! Laowai! 
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