Well, shucks...

Getting ready to head out to the good ol' PRC, where excitement in the form of teaching a class I'm barely qualified to enroll in and strange concoctions at KFC await me with open arms.

Bags aren't packed yet. That might be a problem.

I've never been big on that whole pre-packing thing, seeing as how I'm going to be needing a lot of the stuff I'm packing away up to the point I leave, thereby negating the effectiveness-in-preparation principle in full. Besides, I've always been the type of person that could effectively live out of his suitcase for an indefinite period of time. Example: After returning back to Beijing for a month-long period and subleting an apartment, I decided not to unpack my clothes into the pink dresser in the name of my impending departure, which led to me hand-washing my clothes in the sink with Tide while listening to music from my shitty speakers and telling myself, "dude, you're going to be out of here like tomorrow, don't hassle yourself with that laundromat shit."

Again, it's going to be tough for me to say goodbye to a place that I feel like I just reacquainted myself with. I'm going to miss my family, my friends, and of course the niceties being around them affords. And it's going to be trippy setting foot in Beijing again for the second time this year. The last time I was there, I explained to my friends that it felt strange being back precisely because it didn't feel strange at all. I've lived there long enough that I could call it a second home, much akin to moving up to Los Angeles again, if the people in LA didn't stand in line, were unruly in public, and trash littered the streets in certain areas. Wait, that basically is LA. What is this country coming to?

It's been a confusingly bittersweet week for me, where I'm both eager and reluctant to leave this place. I think in retrospect, I'm even going to miss the SUV-driving moms with the "My child was an honor student at Lomarena Elementary" stickers shoddily peeling off the bumper like a half-applied brand on a cow's fat fucking ass. That's the weird effect this place has on me; I can't live with it and I can't live without it. Like that U2 song, "Sunday Bloody Sunday."

Of course, I would never admit it while living here, but I am essentially a product of OC, a place that has rendered me from a young upstart into a bitter, cynical elitist who hates his own kind and can't stand pomposity in any way, shape, or form. I think all of my rants have always had a glimmer of optimism and/or a desire and expectation for things to get better in the end. Call me an idealist, but I'm still somewhat a fan of this strange, peculiar race that preys on its own and yet is at the same time capable of creating so much beauty in the world; I'm just consistently let down by my own unrealistic standards. Then again, I'm not one to talk, seeing as how I own a video game that allows me to run around in green armor with a purple gun while shooting orange aliens that sound like bad extras from that "Clone Wars" shit that Lucas squeezed out of a week-old pimple on his ass and then managed to market as, of all things, a movie.

In this cultural war, I am an embedded journalist secretly rooting for the other side to win. That's some shit.

So yeah, I need to get packing. In the way of games, I'm bringing my DS, PSP, and last but not least by any stretch, my 360. Also, I'm considering getting a PS3 out there so I can finally once and for all play goddamned MGS4 and end this knee-jerk earmuffs move I pull everytime that picture of Old Snake slugging a PMC goon in the crotch rears its head on Kotaku. In between all that time, I would like to brush up on my Mandarin and maybe climb the Great Wall again. You think I'm kidding, but I assure you, I'm not.

I'll try to sneak one more entry in before I bounce. If not, see you all on the other side. You guys are simply the best, better than all the rest (whatever the fuck "the rest" means).