6 weeks and I fly into New York
7 weeks and I'm Boston
(with the possibility of some Carmel and Nantucket in between)
Where did the time go? Wasn't it just yesterday that I touched down in Pudong, eager to begin my new Shanghai life? Damn, my life feels like that Anna Nalick song...can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable, and life's like an hourglass, glued to the table. You know which one I'm talking about.
After 10 weeks, it feels like I'm just beginning to break ground on the Mandarin front. I have explored only 1 Chinese province outside of Shanghai. I have only gone to about 5 or 6 different clubs. I feel like I have explored about 1/1000th of what Shanghai has to offer. I'd better get on it.
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