I am five or six or seven or eight and in the swimming pool at South San Francisco High School, learning to swim, being rolled onto my back and flapping my arms unwilling to trust in buoyancy. I guess I should say five and six and seven and eight as I learned and failed every year took the same lessons and every year I flunked until they gave up and promoted me to the next level. That first level was called “sand flies” and the second level “dunkers”. I didn’t enroll in dunkers and I officially became a swimming school dropout. ...

It’s raining cats and dogs or antelopes and deer and I wonder if I will ever fall asleep. I flip on CNN and read the latest “breaking” news where breaking means “recent”. They used to just call that — well — news. I’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately if consider lately the past 10 years or so. I want to blame it on my job or too much caffeine or life stress or what not. But maybe it is just they way I am. One night every few weeks I will barely sleep at all…scratch that two nights but one of the two is chemically induced. The lack of sleep makes me tired during the day and makes me stress over things that are not so stressful which causes me to sleep less and so on. You get the picture. Circles create their own momentum. ...

It is 8:30am Saturday morning and Yang and I head to AmCare, the children’s and maternity hospital across the street from us. It is so close that having Yang walk there when labor comes seems like a reasonable option. It certainly seems safer than having her drive which she may end up wanting to do. An aside: In the states, I was the clearly the better driver. We go anywhere in the car, there was no doubt it was me driving. Here, well, I can’t say Yang’s driving has improved but her driving “fits” more with the rest of the drivers. Mine can seem like a nervous teenager by comparison. ...

She wondered what good she would be to him unless she allowed him to break her. She liked who she was and after so many years of struggle had finally found her center even if her center was destined to be off kilter. But she knew her cynicism and wicked mouth and fruit-tarian like diet and obsessive rocking out to music would drive him away. So she made the conscious decision to change. To change for him. Even if that meant taking a risk and losing the sense of herself. Again. And she had not forgotten how much work it took to get her sense of self back the last time. ...

We are not the type of family that works out everything out in advance. Take the case of Aidan’s and Lydia’s pre-school. When we moved to Lido we did not have a new school lined up for them. Yang did some initial research and didn’t find a school to our liking. Either not local hire friendly (read expensive, unless you have a fat expat packages) or too local. For a few weeks Yang drove the kids to their Chaoyangmen Wai school called Sanliturn kindergarten. The 30-60 minute drive each way was far from perfect. ...

The food comes and he says nothing. They laugh when the kung pao chicken arrives and he obliges by calling it the lao wai chicken. They can tell he is bored so they ask if he wants beer to drink but he says no. He only drinks alone when he is alone and not when he’s not. This he has learned from a Dennis Lehane novel. He realizes he’s being an ass by sitting and not eating much and talking even less. But he is the only foreigner there and even with foreigners he can’t stand to make small talk. When was the last time he had a good conversation about his hometown sport teams, or a good movie, or some music he likes. He is drifting in a world he doesn’t understand and worse yet doesn’t want to understand. And certainly a world that does not want to understand him. The knowledge he’s gained from being part of this culture for three years has only pushed him further from his culture while simultaneously closing doors into this one. He wants to sit and rock to his music, maybe Pink’s mizunderstood playing “just like a pill” loud and twice. ...

June 1st is Children’s Day in China and Wikipedia tells me it is a common holiday in many counties although the only recollection I have of it is from China. Here it is bigger than Father or Mother’s Day, as children are such a focus. Since China instituted the one child policy, there are typically at least six adults looking after the one child. The two parents plus four grandparents. In many cases there is also an Ayi or two. It is not much of a surprise that the kids grow up thinking they are the center of the universe. I thought I was the center, and I was number seven of eight. The terms for older/younger brother (gege 哥哥, didi 弟弟) and sister (jiejie 姐姐, meimei 妹妹) have been extended to beyond the immediate family as practically no one’s immediate family has siblings anymore. ...

She spent 17 years trying to save her soul and now she finds she can’t get out. She was an innocent, albeit a slightly disturbed one. She found her fun on Saturday nights at the clubs dancing and moving to the rhythm. She knew the good DJs from the poor ones by sound and not reputation. Before she lost her soul, she used to find it every morning rocking with the music and writing. Always writing. ...

Aidan is sitting on our bed and telling me about the earthquake. He holds his hands our in front of him and shakes them side by side. He says the ground moves like this. Then he raises his hands face level and says the roof falls. And that many, many si le 死了 (dead). Schools where hit the hardest and after my last post I looked at pictures of small children lying side by side in the rubble and one picture simply of their backpacks. And if that doesn’t get to you, nothing will. ...

He lost his muse and didn’t know how to find her again. He tried looking for her in coffee shops, restaurants, and bars. His writing was blocked because he no longer had anyone to write to. No one who would read what he would write and drop the perfect comment over a shared biscotti. He tried to write anyway, but the words came slow and what came was an unfocused mess. ...