I cannot call a place home if I have not spent the most important holidays there.


My heart was jumping hard for the first Chinese new year in Beijing.


My girlfriend Jing Jing took me to her home for the first round of dinner with families, we then took the turkey she made earlier to Chao Chang Di, the artists Ai Wei Wei’s home.


Second round of dinner and party involved a lot of alcohol, a lot of outstanding talented Chinese people, an apple bigger than my face, a “Fo Shou” plant resample of my hand, and a fish the length of my body.



As the firework started sprinting in the sky and gunpowder falling on my face, I let go of the year that almost killed me. I was very drunk, was hugging my very good friends, Beijing is home.

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