I'm the test writing master

Ok, well maybe this title is a little exaggerated, but I just finally finished writing the test sections that I started last night and boy am I glad to be done.  It was a good exercise, but I really had to stretch my brain to tackle the grammar section since I didn't learn grammar explicitly in school.  Mostly I guess I just learned it by reading, listening, and constant correction - thanks Mom!

We're still working on the theme of advertising and the material we're testing on is simple present vs. present progressive and using adverbs of frequency.  So I wrote about McDonald's and DQ for fun.  Speaking of which, have you seen the "So Good It's RiDQlous" commercials yet?  They're so dumb they're funny.  Ridiculous, you might even say.  My favorite is Mary Lou Retton in a pinata.  I tried to show my 12-year-old housemate (Angie) and she was like, who's Mary Lou Retton?  Seriously.



Because I had a stressful couple of days, I decided to take a break this evening and treat myself to Indian for dinner.  This time I went to a place in Taipa - about a 15 minute walk from my office.  The food was very good and I got enough to have leftovers tomorrow.  The atmosphere was a little weird - I was the only one in this huge place, but I got the impression they were expecting a big group later because I heard the staff members talking about how to rearrange the tables.  I got to listen to the British news on maximum volume while I read my book as well.  :)  Why do Indian restaurants always come with excruciatingly loud TV?

 (palak paneer, aloo gobi, naan, rice, and, of course, chai!)

I walked to the restaurant for a little fresh air and exercise.  It was rainy and overcast today, and the smog from the city makes it really hazy sometimes.  I noticed this view on my way down the hill and the muted colors of the buildings reminded me of the "little houses, on the hillside" in the SF Sunset.  

Then when I was taking The Shortcut I saw this dog and it reminded me of my friend Cat's dog, Magic.  I guess I must be moving into the second phase of culture shock, which involves homesickness and anger.  Wheee!

On the way home I went to catch the bus at the stop below - quite a line huh?  That's what happens when you try to go home at 6.  Luckily most of these folks got on another bus and I actually got a seat, which never happens at my regular stop.  Now I know the secret.

Speaking of culture shock and transitioning through the phases, when will I get used to the bizarre English on shirts?  When?  What on earth can this possibly mean?  Am I supposed to be making up my mind on whether it's in poor taste to have writing across your bum?  It's made!