Now that I've started commuting to work, the radio has become a big part of my life.  We're talking 2-3 hours of my life everyday, which is about 15% of my non-sleeping weekdays.  Let's put aside for now that this percentage, like the 47% i spend at a profession I itch to ditch, is way too high.  But thank you, radio, for making these chunks of my life a bit more entertaining.  And thank you car, for still having a radio that works even though your CD/cassette player has been broken for years and you're way too old to have an MP3 hookup.  Highlights of radio:

The first thing I tune into is KPCC, which reliably plays something educational at all hours of the day.  NPR programs pull my political views further to the left, I find out that India has a problem with Pakistan (and vice versa), a guy with a pushy voice begins to deliver the radio's fundraising spiel, and it's time to switch stations.

KROQ's Kevin and Bean have the Showbiz Beat and I hear the frat boy version of what's going on in Hollywood.  Anne Hathaway, who is hot, is 28 years old today.  Megan Mullaly, who is not hot, is 52 years old today.  David Bowie is too busy to make any music, so they play a highly entertaining track where a Bowie impersonator sings "I'm so busy, I'm far too busy" over and over for about two minutes.  Then there's some hard-rocking song with a man screeching about the brave new world, and I scramble to find something more enjoyable.

By now I've crawled with traffic far enough west to get KCRW, which has NPR and local news until 9am, and I get to learn more about the world.  Obama isn't doing so well, I hear, which makes me sad because I've become such a lefty.  I also find out there's a Sig Alert ahead of me, and that it's going to be 72 degrees so my dear puppy Harley will have a nice day in the backyard.  Then I get bored trying to hear about some extremist group gaining ties with some other extremist group.

Music flipping time!  KIIS and AMP are probably playing clubbing songs featuring computerized, bird-voiced men, but I check anyway just in case I miss my indulgently junky girly pop (Lady GaGa, Ke$ha, Katy Perry, Beyonce, Britney).  No luck.  I stop at MyFM so I can sing along to an older song I actually do know, but then get bored of hearing it for the thousandth time (today it was "Yeah" by Usher).  I switch to Star and hit the jackpot, because they're playing one of the three radio songs I love - Listomania by Phoenix.  I notice myself hoping to hear these three songs whenever I turn to Star, but maybe soon I'll find another favorite to add to the list.  Imagine the possibilities with FOUR songs!  I am so easily pleased.

At work I listen to the best radio of all, which is Pandora.com.  So much better than having a big radio station decide what everyone should listen to, and so much better than my own feeble attempts to find music that I like.

That's all for my radio spiel.  If you want to read about my most recent adventure in church-hopping (denomination-hopping? religious preferences - hopping?), see my Wordpress: http://jellobellied.wordpress.com/

"Beautiful woman, beautiful woman!"  That's the call every female, thankfully regardless of her appearance, hears as she browses the clothing markets of Changsha.  The saleswomen are very good at squeezing the money from your wallet, and they do it in very interesting, almost formulaic ways.  Here are some interesting observations about the way our interactions often go:

1. "Flattery" to the saleswoman is like a wok to the chef.  She will usually comment about how whatever I'm looking at will go well with my "white" skin.  If I seem to be examining the cut/length/shape of the garment, she'll say that whatever-it-is is perfect for a "tall" girl like me.  She does not talk about my weight (very large by Chinese standards).

2. The saleswoman is anxious to make a sale, and so she will follow me and talk, talk, talk my ear off until I either buy something or run away.  Since there often isn't much to say, she'll often state the obvious, or make up facts that are hilariously fake.  She'll shadow me saying, "That's the pink one.  Those socks are thick, so they are warm."  If I ask her a question about why the price for her $10 fake scarf is way higher than my $1.50 fake scarf, she'll compare the bogus tags on both our scarves and say "Yours is 100% cashmere, mine is 100% pashmina.  Pashmina is higher quality and more expensive than cashmere."  I know she wishes she can scoff at my $1.50 scarf and call it fake (more on this in #4), but she can't because I could say the same about hers.

3. Details to the saleswoman are like pedestrian walkways to the driver.  In China, this means that she doesn't give a crap, and it's extra obvious when I'm looking at shoes because she really doesn't care about my size.  If I say I need a size 38 in purple, and she doesn't have it, she'll hand me whatever she does have and tell me it'll be fine.  Today as I was jamming my foot into a size 37, she said "37 is only one smaller than 38."  That is along the lines of stating the obvious in #2.

4. If I am wearing something similar to whatever item I'm considering, the saleswoman will probably try to convince me to purchase it by insulting whatever I do have.  Of course I need these new sunglasses, because the ones I have on my head are far too ugly.  Her bag is perfect for me, *sneers at my current bag*.  Her jeans make me look slim and stylish, not fat and short like the ones I'm currently sporting.

5. One of the saleswoman's "strongest" selling points is that everyone else is buying one too.  She likes to tell me that she sells this to tons of other girls, because of course I want to look like everyone else.

Sure, I've bought plenty of random things over the last year, so maybe some of these tricks work on me.  But they really shouldn't.