Stuffed Animal in a Huge Pool of Pesto

Tessa moved to Shanghai. For three years. THREE YEARS.

And she's not blogging, the shit.

I'm hoping.

Waiting.

Waiting.

WAITING.

Waiting like that Erica Kane person waited for an Emmy. (Did she ever get one?)
Waiting like I waited for my mom to pick me up after work at Hegedorn's only to have to call her to remind her that she had abandoned her youngest child.
Waiting like a rebellious teenager in a po-dunk small town waits to graduate from high school so he can join the army and get the hell out of that place only to end up stationed in the dessert or the arctic.

It's not like she lacks subject matter.

Among the blogs she should have written include the inability of her neighbors to form lines at the cash registers, the frightening lack of decent beer, the never-ending fear that they are going to steal/eat/beat her cat, the desire to see other apartments (and the failed attempt to do so), crazy maids barging into their house and cleaning, taxis, supermarkets, the scientific research to determine how long one person can live off the the Dominos Pizza place on the first floor of her building.

You see, Tessa's just the last person (aside from me) who I would envision living in China. It doesn't make sense, even though she's doing it. Other things that don't make sense but can be done: brushing your teeth with cat food, not eating cheese, keeping your favorite stuffed animal in a huge pool of pesto sauce, putting your cat in a baby stroller, listening to Justin Beiber, wearing unfabulous shoes... you get the picture.

And so, given that she's in another time zone and practically on another planet based on the stories she's told me, I've decided I need to write to her, to remind her of what life here in America is like, to make her laugh, to make her think, and to MAKE HER BLOG, DAMMIT.

So, we'll have some changes around here ... new look on Crease in the Pants, slightly new way of writing, same purpose: avoid taking the dishes out of the dishwasher.