
Apr 11
Today I went to a memorial performance for Pan Chenggen, an old man guitarist I ran into a few times last year at Ming Room, the little "private study" I like. To be honest, I didn't want to go, though I feel like I'm letting Pan xiansheng down by admitting that. I'd gotten half drunk last night for no real reason, and slept in until 10am, which felt really late for me. I read a novella by Mian Mian the other day that's put me in a strange mental state, so I wanted to try writing about it this morning, while the world outside my window was weighted down with white mist. As soon as I began to type a few words, my girlfriend woke up and asked me to go walk our dog to the mattress store she likes to spend her weekends at, once again trying out every mattress they have, getting the cargo pants wearing lady who works there to show her whatever new sleeping implements they happen to be stocking at the time. I didn't want to do that either, but I felt I had no choice. I've been feeling so distant from my girlfriend lately. Not an emotional distance -- I just mean I never get to see her. I'm at work all day, and it feels like every evening I have one task or another I have to do that keeps me out until 11pm. I'd already promise Ming Room's owner, Xie Wang, that I'd go to Pan xiansheng's memorial at 3 in the afternoon, and my girlfriend was going to the mattress store with or without me. If I didn't go with her, than yet another day would go by apart, so whatever I had to say about Mian Mian needed to be put aside for the time being. So we carried our dog into the elevator, descended 30 floors, and went out to Zhaohua Road to get breakfast before walking the rest of the way to C-Park, where the mattress store is located.
Essays:Contact me at saddleblasters [at] gmail [etc]
