Do You Smell What the Rock is Cooking?

I ate scorpions the other day.

That's right. Scorpions. I ate them. Not just one or two, but four scorpions fried to the crisp, stingers still attached. Feel free to worship me.

I have met dozens of relatives the past few days. Many of them are very odd. My grandfather's cousin invited us over to her house after lunch. Then made us take naps. Mandatory naps. She also brushed both my mother's hair and mine. I am both fascinated by and scared of her insistent, erratic ways.

Is it wrong that I learned more about China in one visit to a movie studio tourist attraction than I did in all those visits to old museums and palaces and pagodas and stuff? Pagoda, now that's a word I like.

Oh, British children, you are now off the hook as the worst dish washers in the world. Went to the rural, farming areas, and definitely saw dishes wiped 'clean' with dirty rags. Othertimes, I saw them do all their dishes in one basin, without rinsing or changing water, much like, hm... British children. I can't wait to be surrounded by proper dish washers again.