Extra: The Food, and the Olympics

After experiencing the rest of the night post-blogging, I felt that it was necessary to address the rest of my night. Here it goes.

I have never been so aware of food as I have been here in China. Two nights ago my family gave me an eggplant dish, which looked like old mushrooms encased in snot. Until then, I have never had a food stimulate my gag reflex. But I almost had to run to the restroom. Tonight, I found a boundary that I can't cross. My family ordered this huge soup...thing (that's the only word to describe it, really) and expected me to try some. There were some things that looked suspiciously like liver, and being the picky eater I am, I asked what it was. Mistake number 1. I went into this with a "Don't ask, don't tell" policy, and I violated it. Then, to make things better, my mom answered me before I could tell her to stop. Apparently, the soup was some blood something (looked like liver but wasn't), pork intestine, and some sort of stomach. I was grossed out by looking at it, and I couldn't muster up the courage to eat it, although I did have a staring contest with it for about an hour (which it won, in case you were wondering.) Right now, I still feel like the Beijing duck I ate has come alive and is trying to get out of my stomach. Lovely.

After dinner, my family took me to the Olympics. Not inside, just outside the compound so you could see the buildings. (I did hear the cheering from the track races right before women's disk throwing though.) Although whoever designed the buildings was a genius, because every place where you might be able to get a decent picture was somehow blocked. But it is beautiful at night. The water cube changes color, going from blue/purple to rainbow colors to red/blue. All along the gate outside, there are people peddling tourist gifts, tickets, and shirts. I saw one kid taking a shit outside, in public, which kind of killed the splendor of the place. No joke. I sped past that part. :)

The only bad part of the night was, depending on your standards, a tragedy. I have come to the decision that my yellow penguin flats, which have been the jewel of my eye (or whatever) are too small. They are in the trash as I write. Don't worry though, I don't expect a mourning period.

Hm, this hasn't come out exactly as I had hoped. Maybe I am more tired than I realized. Yet it is only 10 to 9 PM, how lame is that?