Awwww...does somebody need a hug?

Yes. Yes, I do. But, please, CTLC folks: do not randomly hug me at Chinese class tomorrow. I will be forced to do the awkward dance (creds to Cara) and then we'll both look weird.

I don't hug or show affection to people I don't know well because, well, I don't know them well. I do, however, give lots and lots of hugs to the people I'm close to. My problem is that I've never been totally surrounded by people I don't know well without a person I'm close to in sight. This is a speed bump I had not anticipated. I knew I'd be homesick. I knew I'd miss my peoples in an agonizing Chinese soap opera kind of way. But I did not know how much I'd miss the simple interaction of a hug, a pat on the shoulder, or an affectionate nudge.

Normally, after the bell rings, the students rush to the front of the classroom to talk to me, flip through my notebook, and rifle through my bag. I don't mind. There's no maliciousness in it and they're never rough with my things. They're just enormously curious. Yesterday after a class there was the usual rush, questions, rifling etc. but one sixth grade girl simply stood next to me, put her head on my shoulder, wrapped her arms around mine, and half-hugged me half-leaned on me. She stayed there for a moment or two before giving me a final squeeze and running back to her friends. The act was so tender and so like the way my sister hugs me. And I finally understood that much joked about stage of culture shock called 'spontaneous weeping' because I wanted to cry in the worst way. And I wanted my sister, my mom, my dad, my friends, my dogs - anyone who knows me to walk through the door of that classroom. But, alas, it was just more Chinese kids. Eventually the urge to sob uncontrollably passed and I was okay again.

And on to more cheerful subject matter. Last week I ducked into a store called "Mum and Baby" to see if I could find something funny to send to my friend's gorgeous and perfect son Aiden. I wanted to get him a Beijing Olympics shirt, since his mother was kind enough to send me an "Oh, my heck!" keychain when she volunteered at the Salt Lake Winter Olympics. I also wanted to get Aiden a pair of crotchless pants partly because I don't want his tender bits chaffing in hot and humid Houston and partly because I don't think his mommy believes that children here wear them. I'd take a picture, but there's something ooky about tracking down baby junk to snap a pic of it. Beijing tank: check. Crotchless pants: check. And then I found it: the most heinously criminal baby t-shirt ever created. It is a Family Guy knock off that depicts the baby and the dog enacting what I can only describe as bondage foreplay. Of course, I bought it. I had to save some poor wretched Chinese baby from having to wear it. Oh, and I'm totally sending it to you, Trish, because I know your husband will put it on Aiden and take pictures. :)

Two days ago I had my first lizard sighting in my 'apartment'. I was beginning to think they liked everyone else and not me! If I see him again I think I'll name him Gary II. He doesn't stay as still as Gary I, but I think the name suits him. For those of you unfamiliar with Gary I, I will explain. In Western Maryland we have an influx of stink bugs at least twice a year. They come in droves and invade our houses, offices, everywhere. In February of 2007 one particular stink bug passed to the great beyond and left his perfectly posed carcass on the upper left hand corner of my bathroom door. I was amused by the fact that he didn't acquire that dried up and faded look of a dead stink bug and attributed it to the damp air in the bathroom. I was curious to see how long he could stay up there, so I left him. I expected him to fall off after a day or two, but he held fast. No special care was taken to avoid him. The door was opened and shut with the usual force, but still the little dead stink bug refused to relinquish his perch. Eventually he became my mascot and I named him Gary. When I left for China two months ago he was there still. For anyone who wasn't counting, that's more than 18 months.

*sigh* I miss Gary too.

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