Ferris Bueller and my 40th birthday

I turned 40 earlier this month - I know, thank you, I don't look a day over 25 - and almost from the day I arrived in Beijing I had been wondering how to celebrate my birthday.

I talked to a friend, Shan, who had helped set up my cheap and cheerful cellphone soon after I got to the capital. Over fries and a salad in a student bar, he said: "You are a decent Western lady. You deserve better than this." He waved the offending handset at me. I would gift myself a new phone on my 40th, I replied. It would be the best phone on the market, the kind of phone I could do everything with.

The Chinese go about their daily lives with such ease using just one hand, the other clutching their phone. Walking, cycling, eating, running on a treadmill, using a restroom, kissing, holding their babies. The phone isn't just a phone. It is life itself. I could do that. I could be that person. Connected to everyone around me, all of the time. Never be homesick. Never be lonely. Be in with the in-crowd and laugh at the in-jokes. Shop 'til I drop.