I’ve found that my Beijing blog provides me with nostalgic pleasure as well as the retention of otherwise very forgettable information.
Why should New York be any more or less memorable or romantic than Beijing?
Someday I’ll probably relish the written record of my youthful extreme poverty, crappy apartment, and awkward post-college social scene.
I guess what I’m saying is that I really don’t expect this to be of any interest to anyone beyond myself 🙂


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