I'm really bored. So I guess the best thing is to talk about my past.
Born in Macon, Georgia in 1989. Dad was a biology professor at Georgia Tech. Three months after I was born, his contract with the university ran out and we just decided to move back to China.
For the next eight years, I lived in Hangzhou. Or actually the suburbs where there are woods and hills. At one and half years, I fell from dad's office on the second floor into a pit of cement-and survived. I had colon surgery seven months earlier because Dad's frequent tossing of me into the air really damaged my digestive system. He's a biologist. He should have known.
Kids treated me differently cuz I am American. They asked me what it was like there. I said I was too little to remember. Otherwise, we basically got along well. Once, I wandered into a lake with a couple of other pre-school kids and got bitten by leeches . Silly little kids and their antics. When I started school, I remember getting into organized brawls. I could fight back then, and the Asians are scrawny enough that one good blow could knock them out. But when they fight with sticks, it's a different story. I also remember my friends collecting bottle cans and selling them so they could have money to buy popcorn-it was popular for whatever reason, kind of like today's ice cream. I thought I might live in China forever-and i didn't really care. I mean, I saw the west lake next to Hangzhou illuminated with lights during a summer night-and I thought there's no place more beautiful.
It was 1997. Mom had a change of heart. She wanted to complete her degree in forestry. So we moved to Santa Monica, right outside Los Angeles. L.A. was kind of ok. Long beach had really white clean sand (take that, Coney Island.) There are good museums, such as the gallery of famous footprints. My black friend Terrence likes skateboarding, so I often went with him to downtown parks where he tried to get the skateboard over a bench or steps. I gained an appreciation for skateboarding primarily from him. I also had some unpleasant moments. In gym class, I was in the shower room cuz they make you take a shower before entering the swimming pool. A mexican kid just decided for the hell of it to pull down my swimming trunks in front of people. I still loathe mexicans to this very day. I also tried to play frisbee for the first time. My throws always curved, so I gave up soon.
Mother wasn't satisfied with her degree. Got an offer from Georgia University. So after two years in L.A., we packed our bags and moved to the Atlanta suburbs. My parents found a silver bike near a dumpster and gave it to me polished and cleaned. It was in good condition and I couldn't understand why anyone would throw away something like that. I played bike tag with friends whenever I had time. I learned to jump over curbs. But I could never do a wheelie (one wheel of bike off ground for a sustained amount of time.) I also played basketball and soccer on city teams with my best friend En. For basketball, I was a bench sub used for defensive purposes. The most points I scored in a game was two. I had much better success in soccer: I scored three goals during a season. As for school, I got into two plays and fell in love with drama. I pictured myself as a good actor. It was then I felt that everything in life ought to be done in the most dramatic way, or else it won't be good.
Atlanta itself wasn't that interesting. There is a civil war museum and the Peachtree Plaza mall is a very big place to shop. I remember going to a baseball stadium and visiting Macon for old time's sake (the earth is red.) The most interesting thing is the Southern breakfast: a glass of milk, a stack of pancakes, bacon and eggs (sometimes), chicken breasts, and biscuits. U could be seriously full for the whole day.
In 2000, the moving vans were active again. There seemed to be friction between Mom and her professor, who taught genetics. So we moved to Upstate New York. How we got there is a story for another day. Nothing stood about Rochester except that the junior high I went to was ranked no. 6 in the country, or so they say. I remembered getting a 75 for chemistry and 100 for american history . lol. two extremes. I spent my free time playing baseball, football, roller-skating, and climbing trees (really). I wanted to be a major league pitcher then and followed the Braves like my life depended on it.
Finally, I moved to New York and decided to stop being a Chinese American gypsy. No more traveling. End of the line. Eighth grade passed away uneventfully. I got bored and started to work on a screen-play that grew to 100 pages. Then the stuy years came. It seemed all jumbled together and incoherent. I remember making half-hearted flings, having romantic fantasies (yes about guys as well as girls), giving up on basketball because it makes me look stupid, and selling escalator keys only to get caught. Here are some of the memories I had:
In Valentin's class, I was writing a poem to kill time when this Indian kid came up and tried to crowd me. I told him to stop harassing me. Later, I learned his name is Anant
Yelling "I'll fuck u up" at this kid in Halloween 2003. In the middle of math class
Conversing with P.K. and others on the 7th floor
Anant and me trying to strangle each other on the day before Christmas 2003
Doing the movie for valentin's class and having to go to central park with people to film some stupid shit about feudal japan
Calling my homeroom teacher "chocolate" 
Serving on a school committee to determine the ap of foreign language
Meeting Maria Santos on the subway and instantly liking her. At least she's not mexican.
Anant humping everyone, and Brian decided to follow 
Diving on concrete playing frisbee against those freshmen.
May throwing a grocery bag at me after I showed her the finger
Going to the Central Park zoo
Two words: Coney Island
Last Day of School 2005: little kid tries to shoot rocket at people. Victims include Julie, me, Sean, and Tom. | 
