We’ll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, and two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose is never meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice, 
Then why is the plural of house not hice?
If the plural of man is always men,
Then shouldn’t the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn’t the plural of booth be called beeth?
One of something may be that, while three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose, and the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We remember the masculine pronouns as he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!
Let’s face it – English is a crazy language.

There is no egg in an eggplant, nor ham in a hamburger;

Neither apple nor pine in pineapple.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?

Even English muffins weren’t invented in England!

Doesn’t it seem strange that you can make amends but not an amend,

And we ship by truck but send cargo by ship?

Quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square,
and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

If Father is Pop then can I call Mother Mop,
If people from Poland are called Poles

Then should we call people from Holland Holes?

And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing,
grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham?
So if you have a bunch of odds and ends,
and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
in which your house can burn up as it burns down,

And you fill in a form by filling it out.
Only in English does your alarm go off by going on,

And the lights go off by going out!

Time has flown, and my updates are sorely lacking; my apologies to my readers. I haven’t even had time to review all the photos from my trip to HarErBin yet, nor the CNY photos from my limited time in Singapore… Experiencing CNY in three different countries in one year was certainly a bit hectic, and my sleep debt is unusually high now.

Beginning and adding on to the lists of experiences that have surpassed the rest of my life prior to working in China…

I have (probably) ____ more ____ in my past half-a-year in China than in the rest of my entire life.

-          Spoken more Chinese

-          Drunk more tea

-          Inhaled more second-hand smoke

-          Seen more fireworks!

The day before was the fifteenth day of the first month of the Lunar Calendar, also known as 元宵节 in China. This day officially ends the Chinese New Year (CNY) Celebrations. I didn’t eat the traditional 元宵 (Glutinous rice ball, according to Wikipedia), but I couldn’t help but notice the fireworks- Incessant and chaotic, it seemed as if fireworks had gone virulent somehow. In the morning I was rudely awaken by fireworks going off just outside my window, in the afternoon I was deafened by people banging on drums by the streets, and at night the fireworks became an unending roar for a good hour or so, like psychotic thunder. As if the noise wasn’t enough, eerie red lanterns were hung at every corner, and people danced around waving sparklers energetically. I marveled at the amount of debris from the fireworks littering the streets, and the utter lack of control overall… I kept wondering what would happen if a firework went astray and got me or one of my windows.

In Sabah, East Malaysia, I did just that to my youngest cousin, when I attempted to set off three fireworks at the same time, and one was somehow tipped sideways by another. It whacked him in the stomach, but he survived just fine with nary a scar. Anyway, photos from my CNY sojourn in Sabah are up on my Facebook account. This is the first time I’ve bulk-uploaded photos to Facebook, and I’ve also attempted Facebook status updates for the first time… Funny how it doesn’t quite addict me the way it seemingly does for many. Still, uploading to Facebook certainly beats uploading to Photobucket and then linking photos one by one to my journal.

I have (probably) changed more in my past six months in China than in the past six years.

There has been so much change; in myself, in the company I keep, in my work and my home. My habits and priorities have shifted, my awareness and desires have altered. I’m not sure if it’s for the better, but I feel at peace, although perhaps that’s just because I’ve been constantly tired for too long, so I’ve become apathetic… haha. Anyway, I have come to the conclusion that it has definitely been part of God’s plan in sending me to China, because if it wasn’t for this I would be so different now. I have seen and experienced much more than I could ever have imagined I would in so brief a time, and I hope to achieve even more, always for God's glory.