From drunken smoking mess to majestic study princess.

For some unknown reason, I thought that I would drink less in China than I did in Japan. Needless to say, that didn't happen. It didn't happen at all. But, I fucking quit smoking (it's been 16 days without cigarettes today), and THAT, my friends, is quite the accomplishment in a land where everybody – especially the cool kids and the hipsters – smoke.

It's been... a bit difficult. Not because I cannot cope with cravings – darlings, after having panic syndrome for years, I can cope with anything – but mainly because I have always been under the delusion that smoking is glamorous. I mean, who would Holly Golightly be without a cigarette? And what would Bette Davis laughter sound like, would she have been a non-smoker?

Anygays, I have finally managed to re-program my brain into thinking that smoking is beyond stupid, and that I am glamorous enough without it. Ha. Speaking of glamorous, my original intent for this post was to write a bit about some of the drunken messes I've gotten myself into so far. Because, as you all know, I'm not much for keeping my personal life clandestine. Fuck that! Be all in everybody's face all over the place, I say!

So, this one night I ran into a Italian girl, who told me that my fashion was amazing and that she loved my tattoo (well, to be honest, who wouldn't fancy my fashion and my tattoo?). After saying thank you and telling her I was gay – as if that wasn't beyond obvious – I, being the stupid idiot I am, went on and said (in a very girlish voice, think: princess Peach): "OH! You're Italian! I have an Italian friend called Alice! Do you know her?" Ha. She replied that, contrary to what I might believe, not all Italians know each other. DUH. I felt a bit stupid and everything was a bit awkward, but I managed to save the situation by saying that one of my life goals was to read Dante in Italian – literature saves the day!

This other night, I came home absolutely shitfaced. My first thought upon entering my room was: "I need to eat something sweet and ruin my diet so that I'll feel like shit tomorrow; IN YOUR FACE, super-ego!" I, now a.k.a. "ID", rambled around my room in search for something edible, but it was in vain – I couldn't find anything satisfactory to put in my mouth (which is weird, since I didn't seem to have any problems with that a couple of nights before). So what did I do? Well, apparently (and I say "apparently" because I was happily oblivious of this nocturnal fuckup until about a week later), I decided to pour milk into my cattle and make myself hot milk. MMM. Seriously; what the fuck? Hot milk...? A week later, I noticed a funny smell in my room and I sniffed my way to the cattle and... OH MY FUCKING GOD! It smelled anything but nice (think: a year old used tampon smothered in natto. Yes. That would probably suffice to describe it).

Another night I harassed my ex-boyfriend, you-know-who, on Skype, saying how I still think he's hot and, basically, that I want to sleep with him. Fuck yes! Gorgeous. Satan i gatan!

Another night I came home and thought: "I NEED to take my contacts out; my eyes are dying!" So, I went into the bathroom and took the right one out, or, at least I THOUGHT I took the right one out. Then I brushed my teeth – god only knows why I didn't want to take both contacts out at the same time, but maybe that was a bit too easy and logical – and after that I proceeded to remove the other contact. After about 15 minutes of digging, pulling and scraping, I gave up and concluded that I must have lost it sometime during the night; it can happen to the best, can't it? The next day, I had a grindR date with this Chinese guy that was beyond gorgeous. The whole day, I kept thinking that there was something wrong with my vision, but since I was a tad hungover (read: hungover as shitfuck), I didn't really look further into the matter. When I, a couple of embarrassing hours of I-don't-speak-Chinese-but-I-can-if-you'd-like later, finally got back, I couldn't stand not being able to see any more, so I went into the bathroom and had a look at my eyes. I quickly realised that, actually, I hadn't taken the right contact out; I had taken the left one out and put it where I normally put the right one. Thus I had slept with the right contact lens still in my eye, and I had also been walking around all day with only one contact. Ah. Contact lens fail.

OK, there's a couple of other stories, but since I can't be arsed to write anymore, I'll save them for future posts. As you might have gathered, life in China isn't much disparate from life in Japan – I'm still all about sex, champagne and mayo, and I'm still as classy, as glamorous, as ever. I still try to coax people into eating right, I'm still out most of the nights, and I'm still the prettiest gay boy in sight.

Now classes have started and, of course, being the geek I am, I study like fuck, which is part of the reason I haven't had time to update my blog lately. Oh, and by the way, I had 15/15 on my first dictation test; cheers to me!

Tonight I'm heading to a 5-star hotel for a bit of COCKtails with the gays, and tomorrow it's gay night at a club in Sanlitun, so stay tuned for all the fabulousness to come.

Cheers, Ta-Ta and toodles!