Wow I suck at this blogging thing

I started this blog while I was living in Buenos Aires, and since then I have only put up one post about the US elections. I wouldn't say I'm the worst blogger in the history of blogging, but I admit I'm pretty bad at it. Or you can just tally this one under "Patricia's lack of commitment" list, along with her former job at LAUSD, Argentina, boyfriends 1, 5, 6, 7, and 11, weeknight dinner plans, baby showers, and the LA Marathon, to name a few.

Oh! But I AM committing to the Great Urban Race in San Diego this coming October, and I am still looking for a partner. That is, of course, unless suddenly I am not committed to it due to another one of my hairbrained ideas, like moving to an ashram in India, joining the Peace Corps, or deciding to search for the Holy Grail. If you knew me, you'd know all of these would be plausible.

And here is my not-so-smooth segueway into my latest plane-hopping extravaganza that is my life: China. Yes, fast forward from the previous November entry that had almost nothing to do with my Argentine surroundings, to thousands of miles across an ocean to a country I've never been to before but suddenly decided, "Hey, yeah, that'd be different. It beats earning Pesos."

So what if I left hot, dress-wearing, park-going weather for the absolute cold? My weather thing on my computer says it's -2 degrees Celcius, but since I'm just a dumb American and because it's not in Farenheit, I have no idea what that means anyway, leaving me impervious to whatever the accurate climate change is.

And so what that I was finally making headway on my Spanish, learning Argentine customs, able to down mate steaming hot, and had finally mastered my Guia-T and hoarded enough monedas to get me on the bus for a full week? Things were just about to get comfortable, and my restlessness would have inevitably come.

And so what that I left what is possibly the most beautiful gene pool on Earth, those Spanish-Italian Porteños, with that super sexy Castellano del Rio de Plata rolling off their tongues, using "vos" and "dale," whispering things on the street like "Diosa, como te amo," which is enough to reduce a grown woman to schoolgirlish giggles? I think out of the billion people who live here in China (well, ok, half a billion men, maybe a quarter billion who are in my age range), I am attracted to about 5 of them. I am sure to run into one of them sometime.

I forgot where I was going with this. Oh yes, so now I am in China. Specifically, a place called Changping, which is about an hour outside of Beijing.

I had a lot more I wanted to write in this blog, but here comes the part where I'm having trouble committing to finishing what I started. So we'll just end this one...right...here.