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Weird, my brain rerouted its typing patterns too well. The correct motions feel foreign. I’m like a paralysis victim in physical therapy. But, you won’t catch me complaining. In a few hours I’ll be good as new. [Edit] This entry is taking way longer than it should, it’s dry, it won’t come together. But, if you feel like reading about my Friday maybe you’ll find it somewhat interesting. To touch on training a bit though, it's been great this week, at least for the second half. I've been super motivated, doing more exciting, realtime drills, and the master is happy with my performance. He wants me to hoe the sand in the courtyard this weekend (to callous my hands more), but I'm sure not doing it today.

It was another long, long, night yesterday. Jimmy and I started off at a Beer Pong event over at Yantai University. There were probably upwards of forty people in the [small] room, but only a few were playing, the rest of us just socialized. I hung out with a Korean dude, June, and met a surprising number of Anglophone foreigners. We only stayed an about an hour before a radiator in the back commenced spewing water on the partiers. Afterwards, I chilled in a dorm room with Jimmy, some English teachers, and a Kung Fu student from an out of town school. I ended up with an invite back for a b-day party next week, so I figure I’ll meet most of them again. One fellow, Cameron, was an English major. We talked quite a lot about Shakespeare, writing, and what I’m doing in China.

For reasons unknown there was a mass migration from the dorm to Ali Baba’s where I re-encountered many University people, hooked up with Tom, Lion, Charlie, and met loads more new faces. Charlie was in pretty deep when I arrived. He gave me extended, congratulatory speeches on sticking it out here in China, worldly advice, squeezed my hand into pulp with his iron grip, and tried arm locking me. Delightfully, I reversed it. Normally I wouldn’t be able to respond fast enough, but he was drunk. By and by his girl dragged him off, I stayed on chatting to who knows who. I hardly paid for anything yesterday. Daniel, Big-Daniel, Lion, and Charlie all bought me drinks.

Eventually, Jimmy, Nikki (student and near-translator for the camp), Manson (I always want to call him Winston), James (Chinese Chemistry student), Mike (English teacher), myself, and two other mystery people changed scenes for some Korean BBQ around three. Conversation varied, but continually wandered back to exaltations for pepper and BBQ.

Also— I reprised my shaved head this week— it’s a sensational hit with the masters.