Three years ago, the thought of moving to and working in China was just about as foreign as the country itself. I certainly had the means and interest to visit, but I really had no desire to move abroad—it wasn't part of my Five-Year Plan at the time.
            
            
                Three years ago, the thought of moving to and working in China was  just about as foreign as the country itself. I certainly had the means  and interest to visit, but I really had no desire to move abroad—it  wasn't part of my Five-Year Plan at the time.
But then this thing called when the financial crisis swept the globe,  crashing markets and putting millions out of work. With no jobs in  America, particularly in the communications field for a recent college  graduate like myself, and with unemployment skyrocketing, I found myself  with a sudden change of heart toward working abroad.
I considered my options. With no job prospects, I could: stay at home  and live with dear old mom and dad; or accept an internship in China  and move to a country I'd never visited before, didn't speak the  language, knew little about the culture and where I had no friends or  contacts.
Now, you may think it was a difficult decision to make—leaving my  home and giving up everything familiar for a life abroad where I would  essentially be pressing the reset button on my life—but, then again, you  don't know my parents. I certainly don't want to imply that they are  bad parents, they've actually been the most prominent guiding forces in  my life and have helped me at every major crossroad I've faced  throughout the years, but I'm just one of those people who needs a major  change of scenery every now and then. So China it was.
I've been here for almost two years now, no major complaints or qualms.
Even before coming to China, I've tried to map out where I wanted to  go with my life, usually in five-year intervals. Graduating college,  working for my nationally esteemed college newspaper, and finding a job  working for a major publication were all part of my first Five-Year  Plan. Seeing that the Five-Year Plan seems to be working pretty well for  China, now in its 11th Five-Year Plan, I decided to stick with this  development model and formulate my second Five-Year Plan.
First of all, I want to learn Chinese. Since moving to Beijing and  taking my Mandarin lessons seriously I've made major improvements—I can  say a lot more than just ni hao (hello), zai jian (goodbye) and zai lai yi ge pi jiu  (bring one more beer)—but I want to get to a level where I can have  conversations with people or solve certain problems that arise in my  daily life. And grunting and pointing like a caveman when I want  something or when I'm trying to communicate with people is getting kind  of boring, not to mention embarrassing.
I want to be famous, or at least experience what it's like to be a  celebrity. The Chinese people have been extremely helpful in allowing me  to realize this goal. Whenever I go to the Great Wall or any other  major tourist site at least one Chinese person will request to have  their photo taken with me. Now all I need is for someone to ask me to  autograph a T-shirt or movie poster.
I want to write a book. After living in Beijing for almost two years I  feel like I have enough material for a short memoir, a "What to Do"  book, a "What not to Do" book, some poetry or maybe a nice "Where's  Brandon?" picture book where you have to find me, the foreigner, in  various photos full of Chinese people, like Tiananmen Square on National  Day or the subway terminal at rush hour.
I want to get married, which means I'll have to find a girlfriend  first. This will probably be the easiest goal in my second Five-Year  Plan to accomplish since at least five girls tell me they love me every  time I go to the Silk Market. This complements the "Hey, sexy man"  remark I get as I peruse the different clothing stalls and makes me feel  like a celebrity.
I want to stay in shape, something that's somewhat difficult since I  spend most of my day inside and in front a computer screen. But, despite  my increased lethargy and unwillingness to take the stairs in lieu of  the escalators, after using Chinese squat toilets for almost two years  my legs, midsection and lower body are in the best physical condition  they've ever been in. And we'll just leave it at that.
And, on a more serious note, I'd like to visit Mount Everest, because  it's there. And by there, I mean here, in China's back yard. From  Beijing, it's still a lengthy journey, but compared to the United States  it's much more convenient and accessible.
Will I accomplish all these tasks? Of course not, but it's a  framework to living an interesting and somewhat coordinated life. And  what I don't accomplish in the second Five-Year Plan will just have to  wait for the third Five-Year Plan—and depending on how the second plan  works out, I may still be in China to continue it.