It was a lovely weekend. We took it easy, didn't dress up, didn't force ourselves to go out at night.

On Sunday I went to a block party. The thing about Shanghai is, it's like New York in how there is always something going on. But the thing about Shanghai that isn't, is that it's not exclusive. There aren't little pockets of hipsters, bankers/douchebags, or uptown girls. Just people wanting to meet people. I guess you get the same thing you would get with any type of atmosphere of situation that brings about certain people; like how New York calls to the ambitious, Shanghai and its expatriate community attracts the wanderers.

I like wanderers. They ask questions but don't judge. They are lost, but are happy.

Monday comes and I get a nice email in my Inbox forwarded to me by a friend who works for the local magazine: "Hey we used a pic of the back of your head and your friend for our flyer!"

Pretty much made my week, as I was beyond flattered and happy.

I wrote this to someone earlier, and it's worth repeating to anyone else who feels out of place wherever they may be: I'm beginning to realize that I'll probably never feel like I belong anywhere. And I'm OK with that.

Knowing how I am, fitting in and getting along with everyone would just bore the hell out of me.

And right on cue, The Guardian comes out with this article: Stephen Kelman's top 10 outsiders' stories:

"Maybe I was a more artistic or cerebral child than most of my peers, or maybe I was just blessed with a natural sense of curiosity which to this day attracts me to those people and stories outside of my own experience.

As a writer, the outsider – be he an immigrant from another country and culture like Harrison, the eleven-year-old Ghanaian boy who is the narrator of Pigeon English, or a social outcast like Huckleberry Finn – is an endlessly fascinating creature: he can be a benign commentator on his adoptive society, or a harsh critic; he can be the underdog or the agitator; his fish-out-of-water status can lend itself equally to comedy and tragedy. The entire spectrum of human experience can be captured within his detached or awed gaze. For both reader and writer, the outsider is an instrument that allows us to see the world in an unfamiliar way, and that for me is one of the prime aspirations of literature."
He's on to something.