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Now that finals are over and the holidays are trickling down, David and I will be heading back to the great, scary mainland of our ancestors for New Year's and more. I'm forty minutes shy of departure, my bags are packed, and I'm fully equipped with two sleeping pills (fourteen hour trips are brutal), a copy of Beijing Time (an anthropological study of the city), a neck pillow (Mom threw one in the luggage), a Moleskine journal (which I started using in '05 and still haven't filled up), and a tape recorder (because you never know when you'll need evidence after some creep harasses you, or after you get stranded on an island with smoke monsters that make sounds like taxicabs printing receipts).

The sad thing is that David and I are hitting the exact same cities (Shanghai, Beijing, Hainan), but our dads have created completely different itineraries for us. Guess that your twenties don't really mean full independence. Anyway, maybe we'll live blog you or something. Maybe. Maybe we'll just be posting about how much China sucks and we miss NYC, because that's where we're from, and believe it or not, people can tell that we are Westerners and will harass us for it.



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