BYO T.P.

I just can't believe that tomorrow is a new month. Then again, I think I say that everytime I turn a page in the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta calendar (the nicest piece of art on our walls--thank you Granny and Grandaddy). There are no more China surprises. Nothing on the streets of Jinan phases me anymore. Its November, and everything has become...normal.
It has become normal to sleep on a very firm surface: a 3 inch pad seperating me from a wooden board.
It has become normal to pour myself a little milk from a bag, to bleach and peel the skin off of fruit, and to carry toilet paper in my pocket.
It has become normal to ride my 1-speed (sans helmet) to work in a mob of bicycles, scooters and rickshaws.
Its normal to see cars in the bike lane. Infuriating, but normal.
Its normal to see taxis and cars using the oncoming lane of traffic for their passing lane.
Its normal to see toddlers eliminating on the sidewalk, little dogs in bicycle baskets, and caged chickens on the sidewalk.
Its normal to see people carrying large bags of soy milk, raw meat, or tofu. Normal to see a tower of steaming bamboo cookers, and hear bull horns advertise corn on the cobb over and over.. and over.
Its normal be pointed at and stared at.
I hardly notice the incessant horn honking. Give it another two months and I might even spit on the ground. But lets hope not.