Food Poisoned and Pick Pocketed

I had ridiculously bad food poisoning this week. It came courtesy of Schlotzsky's Deli, here in Beijing. Right before I started being sick, I had crazy vivid dreams that I was the wife of Chinese nobility in ancient times, fleeing from an unknown enemy through in the city of Xi'an. I also had a dream about the evils of South West turkey bacon sandwiches.

I was sick for a few days. I got taken to the hospital, tested for Swine Flu, given an IV. Thankfully, my bilingual friend Steven translated everything for me.

Ironically, I think the location of Schlotzsky's Deli that used to be in Eagan (Minn.) closed due to food-illness issues. I can't find anything to back this up, aside from a quote that says, "The Eagan store closed this month, and details are sketchy about that location", from a 2004 Twin Cities Business Journal article. I was laughing about this when I was at the deli, eating my sandwich.


Earlier this month, my coworker Randi and I took a day trip to Tianjin. My wallet got stolen in a crowded clothing market.

This what we did:
Train to Tianjin
Walked down cultural street
Visited Confucius temple.
Walked through clothing market.
Had wallet stolen.
Took cab to restaurant.
Discovered wallet was stolen.
Had cab go back to market.
Spent two hours at police station.
Ate noodles.
Train home.

The stolen wallet has been a hassle, but not the end of the world. I didn't loose my passport, and Tianjin is a pretty nice city.

The cultural street.
A flood of Caucasian dolls, amid hordes of China-themed trinkets and painted scrolls.

The Confucius Temple.


Randi, my coworker. She used to be a lawyer in Manhattan, lost her job in the recession, decided to do a journalism internship in China. She is extremely nice.