I’m not going to lie, I suck at eating Korean food-too much pork and friedness. Which means I don’t eat a whole lot here. Which is bad for my overall health, but good for my summer bikini. I kid, I kid. Though it would be interesting to step on a scale in a few weeks. Not like I would understand anything-stupid Americans are the only people who use pounds; kilos are beyond me. Oh but don’t worry, Mom, I’ve finally started to take the vitamins you’ve been telling me to take for years.

Anyway, I don’t eat a whole lot most of the time, which might not be the healthiest thing, but it’s better than overeating, right? That all changed this past evening, when Erin and I went to heaven for dinner. And by heaven, I mean a Mexican restaurant called On The Border. Apparently it’s a chain, but like most good things in the world, doesn’t exist in my economically barren hometown (just kidding, I know my old bosses read this. Kingston is great and has a ton of amazing locally owned Mexican restaurants! I personally recommend Rosita’s and the Armadillo.). OK, so anyhow, our friend Karen, who just finished up her contract here, escorted us to this mouth-watering haven of deliciousness. Excited to have real (and very spicy) salsa again, I scarfed down what they put on the table and threw back a few glasses of water. We all ordered the same thing (by the way, when the kids here say two things are alike, they say, “Same same!” Not “Same,” but “Same same!” Which means I obviously do the same thing now.) some sort of chicken tacos. I have no idea what kind, but there was cheese in it, and that’s all I really cared about at the time. Anyway, I ate that food so fast and could barely move after. Sort of reminded me of the lowest, most disgusting point in my life-Thanksgiving 2006, when I had a really nice dinner at a fancy-shmancy hotel in Prague where I ate more food than I ever have in my entire life and threw up immediately after. Go ahead and judge me, I’ve already judged myself enough for it. To be fair, it was the first Thanksgiving three years in which I wasn’t sick and quarantined from my entire family (damn you mono, damn you tonsillitis). But don’t worry-I now know my limits.

Right, so I got off-topic AGAIN. On the subway home, Erin and Karen got on with no problem, but there wasn’t enough room for me on the train, so the doors slammed between us and the train took off without me. Apparently, my eyes got really big and “you should have seen the look on your face!” (thanks, Erin). No worries, we were reunited after I grabbed the next train and got to Suyu station without another problem.

So now I’m back in my apartment, with my washed laundry strewn around my room (the dryers are terminally broken and I have yet to invest in a drying rack). I am still stuffed from dinner, and expect to be for the next few days. I think I’m starting to kick the cold I get every autumn (which, in years past, has left me congested for three-ish months); I sat on, and subsequently broke, my sunglasses; and I made an adorable little girl cry this morning when I put a wig on her head in hair salon class.

So that’s my life, in all its glory. A few loose ends:

Happy birthday to Rachel Eve Nomberg, who is celebrating 22 years for another six minutes!

Happy birthday to Margalit Rosenthal, who hit the big 2-3 about 54 minutes ago, Asia-time.

Check out this site, sent to me by Ruthie. I just like to click on things on interactive websites.

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