I spent the trip out of place: the only non-frat guy in the rented house, and the only East Asian guy at all. Well, if you don't count the Buddha figures in the rented house; the Buddha lived in South Asia anyway.

After dinner, I didn't join everyone else in the club. Instead, I finished Interior Chinatown in one sitting, engrossing myself further in living outside others’ expectations.

I carried out little quiet rebellions, not even rebellions, really: running along the roads clearly meant for just cars and entertaining McDonald's in a house probably worth 7 figures.

I don't quite belong, so I can move through this space honestly. Or maybe the other way around.