thanksgiving.

i have a confession. i love... no... love american holidays. i think that they are the best holidays ever. nothing makes me miss home like missing a good, old-fashioned american tradition. in fact, i can tell you a number of sad, lonely tales about what i did on my favorite holidays of the year.
for example, last fourth of july, i spent the day exploring st. petersburg, and the night waiting in a station for the longest and most uncomfortable bus ride you can probably imagine. twelve hours from petersburg to riga, with one stop in estonia in the bloody dead of night. i did discover that it eventually gets dark that time of year, however, but only for 2 hours. and for those who don't know, the fourth of july is my second-favorite holiday. just after christmas. so you may as well call it my very favorite holiday.



despite my lonely tales, i will tell you this: one of my favorite thanksgivings was last year, the first one at kate and caroline's... and the one that followed with the mormons. it wasn't perfect. no fancy china or sitting at a large table while everyone gave thanks, and on one occasion, no turkey! actually, i think there were even canadians and kiwis at these events, too. but the joy and the welcoming and the warmth of the whole thing made me feel like i was at home again. for the first thanksgiving, possibly ever, i felt that i had something monumental to be grateful for. i had a family, despite having no family. i wasn't lonely, despite how very lonely i had been. i know, i know, normally we thank God for the big and the small, the meaningful and the insignificant... that's what the holiday is for. but this one, somehow, was different. i suppose that i'd felt so much of what it means to lose, or give up, what was important and comfortable to me, only to be provided for in abundance in such a very foreign place.



these days, i'm totally loving thanksgiving.

on the road.

lately, i've decided to ride my astoundingly agile scooter to and from work. sure it's about 3 miles away, but i enjoy the weather and the quality time with my ipod, thoughts, and the fall colors. fall is my favorite, probably for no other reason than the colors themselves. i enjoy warm things: deep reds, forest greens, and especially browns. i used to think of brown as a bastard child of better colors, but lately i've begun to think it's very misunderstood. it has the uncanny ability to make me think of all the things i love about being alive, like hugs or shivering or coffee or scarves or wine or giggling in hushed voices because it's much too late and much too quiet; but we don't stop because there's so much to say and i love you so much more than sleep.

and while i generally use the time just to think about my plans or imagine what might have been, it's been the source of much illumination these days.
for those who don't know, though it's likely you've never met me before if this is the case, i have a strange, inexplicable obsession with jack's mannequin. or maybe it's andrew mcmahon, i'm not sure which. though he's married these days. and he used to write extremely spiteful songs about being in high school and kissing girls. stop judging me!
but on my walk home, i think i may have solved the mystery of my attachment! it really has everything to do with how distinctly californian the music is. most of it is about southern california - living here, loving here, leaving here. all things california. and it actually makes me in love with being here, and so much less anxious to leave as soon as possible. california isn't dirty or noisy or polluted anymore, because andrew describes it how it is, but with such affection that it becomes something much more beautiful than that.
here are some images of my home and why, on occasion, i really do love it.











you'll be missed, miss california
we'll be married in the rain...



the other day, instead of listening to my sweet tunes while taking my even sweeter ride, i just walked. as i flipped through songs, the classic "an american girl" by the indomitable tom petty came on. firstly, let me just state that i adore tom petty.
and secondly, i want to know how it's possible that, though i've heard this song dozens of times (DOZENS), i haven't actually related to it until now?
well she was an american girl
raised on promises
she couldn't help thinkin that there
was a little more to life
somewhere else
after all it was a great big world
with lots of places to run to
yeah, and if she had to die
tryin' she had one little promise
she was gonna keep

oh yeah, all right
take it easy baby
make it last all night
she was an american girl

it was kind of cold that night
she stood alone on her balcony
she could the cars roll by
out on 441
like waves crashin' in the beach
and for one desperate moment there
he crept back in her memory
God it's so painful
something that's so close
and still so far out of reach

oh yeah, all right
take it easy baby
make it last all night
she was an american girl

i won't dissect them for you, and yes, i know that there are other meanings, many of them not so positive. but the one i inferred while listening to it struck a chord that i haven't felt in a long, long time, and i suppose i'd rather dwell on that.

that, and the shades of red that the trees are turning these days.

voting.

apparently, people will come out of the woodwork for a free cup of coffee.

and apparently, there really are more obnoxious people than i thought.

and for the love of God, no, you cannot substitute a small cup of coffee for a large frappuccino. on what planet does that seem like an even substitution?

january. january.

election woes.

i think 2008 might actually give me an ulcer.



i've always hated talking about politics, because i hate what it brings out in people.


also, i just might explode all over the next person who generalizes my faith and/or followers of Christ.

when life gets you down...

focus on the positive.

for those who don't know, life has been quite the downer these days. being at home sucks the life out of me, mostly because of one particular person, who shall remain nameless. that would be one thing, except that work is almost painful these days. i should probably stress that it's not because i inherently hate my job, but because any flicker of positive morale or energy is immediately squelched by laziness, drama, and the desire to stay in high school. i spent at least my last 3 semesters of high school wishing it would go away, and now it's come back with a vengeance. this is then compounded by the fact that some of my closest friends are (or will be) in places like london and boston, or by the painful process of extracting others from my life. the unexpected side effect of that one is my acute ability to qualify most guys i meet as liars, no matter how nice they are. i'm still waiting on the Lord for that healing. it'll come, but right now it's still open and bleeding profusely.

i think, though, that sometimes we focus primarily on how awful we feel, and not on all the positive things we have. there are days, weeks, months, that i feel like my Father doesn't hear me, but i find that it's mostly because i'm not listening to Him speak. even when i'm feeling hopeless, i also find something to bring me pleasure or to make me laugh. the fact is, there is way too much suffering in the world to be caught up in how dissatisfied i am with my life. so i told myself that today, i will focus on the things that i enjoy, no matter how small they are. right now, i am in a place where i'm so comfortable that it's easy for me to forget the beauty of existence, and the buoyancy of the human spirit. few people are this lucky.

and despite how frustrated i've been, i've found that the list of things which make me happy is considerable. and that's not even including the people i love, just objects and what they represent. for those who think this is all about materialism, it's not... it's about being appreciative and joyful because we're given so much to be appreciative and joyful about. even these small pieces of joy are enough to lighten this heavy heart, if just for today. and that's okay, because today is all i was ever promised anyway.

proud to be an american.

where working, tax-paying citizens can't get health care.
can you? because 22, working, mostly able-bodied, and as "citizen" as they come, i sure can't.

it's all wearing so very thin right now.

manana.

i now know why the olympics only happen once every 4 years.

they severely eclipse one's ability to carry on the responsibilities of a grown-up, much less act like one.

though i've gotta say it's a beautiful thing to forget yourself for a few seconds while amazing people like lezak do seemingly impossible things... like chasing down the french. because they had it coming. you forget that it's only a game, that the world is still full of real problems, and that you still have a serious problem with the u.s. government. these things seem trivial while you bounce around the room, screaming for some guy who can't even hear you to GO FASTER!

i maintain that the world could do with more absence of dignity.

things which do not put me in a good mood.

when i was 18, some things happened, and after a whole incident that included a truck, i ended up hospitalized but alive.

the sad thing is that the people responsible have more or less told me to shake it off.

and in the grand scheme, some days, like today, have been exceptionally shitty. you see, even though this happened 4 years ago, i spend whole days unable to feel some of my toes. for those who don't know, this has nothing to do with my toes, and everything to do with some nerves and discs in my lower back.

and also, 4 years later, i get rejected by insurance companies, and sometimes, to add insult to injury (literally, hah!), this happens on the same day that my toes are numb.

there's no good way to shake that off.

today really could have been better.

the 4 x 100 swim was epic.

and also, i'm wondering if michael phelps is looking for a wife. i'd make a great mrs. phelps.

the smothering immensity of america

it would not be inaccurate to say that i was ill-prepared for my re-integration into american society. i hadn't given the adjustment much thought, as i've believed myself ready to be home for a while now. i'd prepared myself to leave my children, to be awed by china, to be free in mongolia, to be bored in siberia, and to love moscow despite all the stigmas. after all my hard work and anticipation, i wasn't expecting life in america to be complicated at all, because, let's be honest, it had been 13 months and i was exuberantly ready for mexican food, sunny days, the pacific ocean, affordable starbucks, and my friends. let me first establish that, after having visited various corners of the globe, better weather does not exist outside of southern california. yes, i realize that this depends on your definition of "better," but let me tell you that you cannot count on the sun to shine more regularly and the weather to be more consistent outside of this lovely corner of the world. to return to this, my friends, i am grateful.

all that said, despite people speaking to/at me in english when i'm expecting another language. and despite how much i missed chipotle's vegetarian burritos. and even despite the deeply felt absence of my friends, it's everything i can do to keep my heart from exploding every few hours. not with joy, but because i can feel the anxiety of all things american; all things convenient and large, welling up inside me. at times, i have to slow down, close my eyes, concentrate on simply breathing - or maybe on the hypnotic flashing of the turn signal ahead of me - to simply comprehend the vastness of the very road on which i'm driving. 2 1/2 lanes, a divider, and 2 1/2 going the other way, my mind keeps repeating. i crossed less than that to get to my bus stop on the busiest road in banciao.

the truth of the matter is that i feel crushed by the almost excruciating convenience of modern america. by the fact that i can visit a place like target, one of many other places just like it, and buy myself a snack, tampons, a sweater, the office season 3, laundry detergent, a greeting card, a video game for my brother, and a plant for my mom, everything in one place is all too much to handle. i almost don't know what to do with the rest of my brain's capacity, because all these things required 10x more effort in taipei. i had to go to 7-11 for the snack, cosmed for the tampons, blockbuster for the office, net for a sweater, the little mom and pop shop down the street for my detergent, hess bookstore for the greeting card, ximending for the video game, and the flower market for the plant. thus, i would spend my saturday afternoon doing all the things that i can now easily accomplish in 30 minutes or less without driving more than a mile. and the reason it took my saturday afternoon was because my mornings were spent doing my weekly laundry, which now takes all of 10 seconds and doesn't take 72 hours to still be a little damp yet wearable.

the problem is that all my unused energy, all that void capacity, is being dominated by white noise. by an overwhelming lack of concentration. that i find myself unable to stay focused or on track. that my brain labors beneath the weight of variation and convenience around me, grasping at something to pay attention to, to focus on, to center myself upon, yet inexplicably dazed. i'm distracted by all the music, the signs, the language, the concepts that i understand because i grew up here. i speak the language. fundamentally, all this makes sense to me. but it all gets lost when i see the variations on oreo cookies sprawling before me. i get distracted and confused by how something as simple as an oreo cookie somehow becomes very complicated at the grocery store. do i want the plain ones? double stuff? reverse flavors? and what's all that colored stuff? oh, they make other flavored cookies now. and what size should i get? things get even more confusing when i realize that i also have the option of buying a generic brand. at my local 7-11 so many thousands of miles away, oreos came only one way: 12 cookies at 43NT. nothing special, just plain oreos. i've gotta say that i liked the simplicity of choices. either i wanted the cookies or i didn't, but i didn't feel tormented by options. now, as i look upon the vast array of everything including cookies, i can't remember what i was thinking or why i expected it to be harder than this. and yet i wonder why it is so hard, why america is so bent on testing my decision-making capabilities by putting so many choices in front of me.

more than once this week, i have gone into the cupboard or refrigerator, and simply been overwhelmed by a well-stocked food supply. i've gone to make myself some coffee, but haven't known where to start. my life was simpler, containing such fewer choices during my travels. but in those moments of unbearable plenty, i find i have to close the door and order something at a local restaurant, because there i can at least focus on a specific object, self-contained by its recipe and my blissful lack of control in how it's made.

i feel myself, at times, unable to speak, to think, or even to just be, my brain overstimulated by the sheer vastness of my surroundings. it's true, what they say about things being bigger in america. more cars, and they're all bigger than the ones i've seen since i left. my home street is probably 4 times as wide as my alley in taiwan, which sort of fit a cab if you were lucky. my backyard seems to contain more grass than the whole of taipei. and as for my house, well, i'm kind of blown away by the whole "2 1/2 bathrooms" concept.

i was surprised to find that the hardest part for me was church, where i go to meet my Father who, i have found, meets me in the most surprising and humble places. despite my inability to find a church, He always finds a way to speak to me, even when i'm discouraged or confused or in my loneliest of states. i found Him even when i didn't expect to find Him, atop rinjani in the cold. in the smallest moscow churches, by myself as i plodded along the wall. He romanced me, and reminded me that i am His. even whilst sitting down in the great temple of bangkok, wondering about truth and absolutes, i was certain that my Father heard my confusion and frustration, and He met me, where i was. i could hear Him in the depths of my spirit, and i prayed to my God, while others prayed to theirs. i didn't care, because my God is present everywhere, untamed and unlimited by the compartments to which we assign Him. in fact, it is in these seemingly meaningless nooks of His creation that i seem to hear His voice the loudest. in the utter brokenness of humanity and spirit that His beauty screams from the most deafening and ineffable heights. and yet, when i go to meet Him with others who are looking for Him as well, i can't even concentrate. everything is so big. the building, the message, the lights, the screens, the band, the music. and others around me feel Him and hear Him, and i have always and will always ask myself why i can't hear Him too. the truth is that i need to be prepared in spirit when i come before my God, and strangely, i haven't been able to silence my head or my heart enough to concentrate. perhaps i never was quite cut out for a large church.

i like to think that eventually, i'll get used to all this. that my being with synchronize with my surroundings, and that i will feel once again like i belong in america. whether or not that's what i'm meant to feel is questionable, but i'm trying to be patient.

synchronizing and feeling is perhaps too much to expect. so for right now, i'll just focus on breathing.

the shadow proves the sunshine

i knew it was going to be hard, but i wasn't prepared for this.

i'm in way over my head.

13 months later.

i'm back in the states, yet i haven't mastered the art of ordering food in english. this could take a while.

juno

"it's not you, it's me."
or so the saying goes.

i finally got to see juno this weekend. after months of hearing good things and no premiere date in sight, it finally came out in taipei.
most of the time, i don't go to movies unless someone suggests it to me. i'm not sure why this is. also, english films are intolerably loud here. geez, if we weren't deaf before we started watching, we certainly are now!

i've gotta say that i expected more. of what, i'm not sure. it was sweet and enjoyable and awkward like teenage romance tends to be, but maybe i just wanted a more profound experience. or message.
i really liked the soundtrack, though.

it's the small things that matter

or so i've heard it said.

in general, i consider most things to be over-appreciated. appearance. money. fashion trends (not to be confused with fashion). large things (beds, cars, closets, refrigerators).

and conversely, i consider other things to be sorely under-appreciated. hot water. underwear. television on dvd. the quesadilla.


and lately, one more thing.

behold, the guava:














while it's everywhere, i mean under-appreciated like apples are in our culture. they're just... there. say you're standing amongst an array of fruit, and your choices are strawberries, watermelon, raspberries, blueberries, and apples. which one do you pick? i'll bet it's not the apples!
guava is similar here. mango season comes, and BAM... guava? what's guava? it also will not get picked over dragon fruit, star fruit, kiwi, or pineapple.



i really couldn't tell you why guava wasn't a regular part of my diet back home. wait, yes i can. because you don't find it at home. you eat things like watermelon, strawberries, apples, grapes, and bananas. not guava.

it's a simple fruit. it contains no potency, no zing. but i have to say it's one of the most consistent aspects of my experience in taiwan. even when mango failed me on both the fresh and ice sand level, i don't remember there being a time when i couldn't get guava. and every time i eat it, the better it tastes.

so easily forgettable. so underwhelming in taste and appearance. but time after time, when my body starts screaming for something that isn't processed or greasy or rice, there it is at 7-11 or in the school kitchen, sitting there, staring at me, reminding me of how much better i'll feel when i have some.

mix it with a little prune powder and a half dozen cherry tomatoes, and you have something i'll definitely miss when i go home.

revolution, people. revolution.

"the only things you can count on in life are death and taxes."
or so the saying goes.







cured my political apathy.


carry on.

a very merry un-christmas to you

"hallelujah!"
or so the saying goes.

over the years, i've heard a lot of dissent about christmas in the states; about how it's too capitalistic, too consumer-driven. as a culture, we've been bombarded with story upon story about the true meaning of christmas, which always, in the same trite manner, drills into our minds that we've completely missed the point.

and all this is true.

but now i just want to tell western culture and all the proverbial grinches of my generation to stop bitching.




as an american, the idea of a non-existent christmas has always been unfathomable to me. our entire culture embraces it. from christmas music, to holiday specials, to decorations anywhere and everywhere, to nativity displays, to christmas trees at the mall, to starbucks' red cups, american society whole-heartedly welcomes christmas. in fact, i like it, because, for a short time, everybody is happy. albeit more-than-usually stressed out, but exceptionally jovial.



cut to culture that barely acknowledges christmas' existence. the teachers at my school, in fact, all worked on christmas. we had the option of taking the day off because, from what they understand, christmas is sort of important to us. so we did. and they tried feebly to bring the christmas spirit into school, but nobody understood the decorations or the color schemes or the music or talk of searching for the true meaning or even WHERE SANTA CLAUS COMES FROM! december 25 passed by like any other day here. nobody stopped or said a prayer or took a moment to reflect. they just kept moving, leaving us foreigners paralyzed, immobile, completely destroyed by a holiday spirit famine. christmas was void of all the things that make it so wonderful back home. it's like i'd slept an entire month.

but at least i had the day off. i went to a christmas party with chris and some of his friends on christmas eve, where we played yankee swap with white elephant presents, read the nativity story, and sang christmas carols. and ate mongolian barbecue.
i read cards sent to me by my thoughtful friends back home. i don't think they realize how much a few words lifted my terribly downtrodden spirits here.
i opened presents from my family, full of scarves and gift cards and perfumes and DVD's with all my favorite tv shows, because the only thing for me to watch here is cnn, bbc, or movies with subtitles.
chris and i had a christmas breakfast and exchanged gifts. and while i don't think i'm any good at giving presents, he wasn't exaggerating when he said he was, as my jade bracelet is glorious.
i ate myself into a food coma with rachel and annie on christmas day. we shopped and talked about home and took pictures and soaked up what little holiday spirit could be derived from our environment.


so even if you think christmas is misunderstood, i can honestly testify that it is infinitely better than no christmas at all.

of all the things...

"all you need is love."
or so the saying goes.

i'm not a weeper.

anymore.

i would say that i never have been, but as i think about it, this isn't true. i cried enough to nearly drive my parents to insanity as a toddler. i spent an entire summer and then some crying when i came back from england. partially because i wasn't in england anymore, but mostly over boys. that was a lot of reshaping, and i think crying was the only way i knew how to release whatever confusion or frustration i was feeling.

but when ivan and i broke up 13... almost 14 months ago (wow, it's been that long?), i think i flipped a switch inside myself. i spent exactly one day crying over it, and never did again. in fact, i didn't even cry when i got a little bruised by recklessness during semester that followed. again, boys were involved. sure, i got my feelings hurt, but nothing that ever drove me to tears. then i cried... i mean, really cried... the day layce left. and again when arlee passed away.

but i sold or gave away everything i owned back in the states, said goodbye to everyone i loved, and missed aaron and kirsten's wedding and still didn't shed a tear. i even thought i would get a little misty when chad left (rinjani + 10 hours a day, 5 days a week might do that to a person), but nothing.

so why did i cry today over something so silly? thanks to the glories of technology, i've been able to stay in close contact with a good number of my friends back home. e-mail, text messaging, skype, facebook, blogging... i still feel close to them even when i'm so far away. this and the fact that i was so ready to be away have made adjusting to taiwan extremely easy. no need to cry, because my friends are just a skype call away, right? today, when i logged onto myspace to check some messages, i discovered an e-mail from matt. anyway, it was simple: "seriously, i miss you so much. come back." him being a man of few words in general, and even fewer words that aren't teeming with sarcasm, this was a surprise to me. and what surprised me even more was that i got all choked up and started to cry a little.

yeah, what?

he's always told me that one of the beauties of our relationship is that he can say anything to me, for no other reason than because i'm joy. over the years, the honesty has been helpful, especially since he simultaneously drives me crazy and provokes an unnatural (like spending 24 hours with k1 students and not yelling at them unnatural) amount of patience from me. and vice versa, i think.

that was a rabbit trail, but i think the reason i'm saying all this is because his comment and my reaction represent how much i miss the honesty of my friendships back in california. i lived an emotionally reckless existence back home. i wore my heart on my sleeve, never afraid to tell people that i loved them or what i thought. yes, i can tell matt anything and not worry about what it'll do to either of us, but i feel the same way about many people back home. they're the kind of relationships that allow me to be vulnerable and protected at the same time. the kind that made me feel absolutely comfortable with being myself from day one. the reason why college was such a beautiful experience... because i didn't feel like i was pretending, not even from the very first day i spent in orange. i have always felt that my friends, my true, lasting friends, have had my very best interest at heart.

despite being very happy in taiwan, i've found myself to be especially guarded. i keep things to myself that i normally wouldn't, because i'm afraid, very afraid, of revealing what i really think to anyone. i make jokes. a lot. or i say nothing. my capacity for being closed off surprised me most a few weekends ago. i noticed that i was actually trying to keep others outside my "self" bubble. and my commitment to doing so seems to know no limits. if i feel exposed, i throw out sarcasm or irony or disdain as a shield. i, joy, someone who always made it a point to be fiercely open and honest, found myself recoiling. and then i thought about it, and i've been doing it for a few months now. and i've realized that most of the things i say or do are simply incomplete. a half-hearted version of myself, because, for some reason, i think i'm just too afraid. that's so silly, but it's as if i've had a taste of what it feels like to play my cards close to the chest, and now i'm addicted to my half "self." as if i simply hope to protect myself, from what, i'm not exactly sure. but the idea of being anything else doesn't feel like an option right now. oh man, it's like being in 8th grade all over again.

and thanks to my shields, i'm definitely not a weeper.

anymore.

not gonna lie, the power feels pretty good.








.......but i much prefer the vulnerability. how do i go about trusting people enough to get it back?.....

there are aspects...

"this is the day that the Lord has made"
or so the saying goes.

that i truly, deeply miss about my home in temecula. not just california, and not just temecula, but my actual house - the back yard specifically. i strongly believe that every great childhood requires a great back yard. far too many children are without one here. this is probably because they spend 13 hours of the day in school.

i was thinking today about how i've been living the past 4 months with no moments of silence. one can always here people, cars, the whirring of fans, the tinkling of store door bells, the murmur of conversation wherever one goes. it's difficult to block out the white noise, though i've tried. and i realize how very much i miss spring mornings in that house. when i have gotten up early enough there, i have experienced mornings when time actually seemed to stop. when i can't hear traffic or people, because everyone's still asleep, and i can't hear the main roads when so few cars are on them. the windows in our kitchen face directly at a hill over which, if you catch it on a clear morning, has a perfect and breathtaking sunrise. the light slowly peeps over the hills and bounces off the trees, the flowers, and the quiet homes on the other side of the gully separating our house from the rest of meadowview. the air still has a piercing cold bite to it, but the coffee forces the cold to the surface of my body. the cold air and mist around me softly kisses my hands and face. the sunshine slowly melts the cold away, and illuminates the dew on the grass, leaving before me a glistening carpet of deep green. the kind of green that makes me think of more than freshness or my favorite sweater or of eyes. but a profound green, which almost lures me into resolving myself to only eating organic and inherently useful things. of never looking at anything processed or metallic again. and as the sun slowly metamorphoses from a faint pink to a bolder blue, i start to awaken from my trance and think about my day and my responsibilities.

many a time have i thought, especially as i've gotten older, about the stillness of those mornings. here, i long for those mornings. for the taste of the coffee, for the warmth of a soft sweater wrapped around me. i long for the ability to be still in those moments. to just be, and to know that He is. how i long for them. i think that when i return, i will make it a point to have a first morning just like that.

easy amusement

"game. set. match."
or so the saying goes.

since thursday, aro and i have been embroiled in a fierce, facebook-supported game of scrabble, thanks to the new application "scrabulous." at our rate of play - i.e. one move per person per day, i expect that it will take at least another week to complete.

but the truly amazing thing is that i'm actually playing scrabble with him on the other side of the ocean, and i have the convenience of making a move whenever it's - well - convenient. i get off work and get a nifty notification in my facebook inbox: aaron humphrey has just made a move in scrabulous. click here to see the board. i play my turn and wait until aro wakes up or gets off work or something of the sort to play his.

who needs physical interaction? also, he doesn't know this, but at one point i had only vowels.

i suppose my heart rings true for you, red, white and blue

"home is where the heart is."
or so the saying goes.

in one week, i've lost all concept of time. i honestly did not believe that i would be perturbed about living in taiwan for the 4th of july. i have never been out of the country on independence day before. never.

today, i reflected on last year. i refer to it as the best day of my life. everything about it was simply perfect. soccer, the beach, coffee, mason jennings, fireworks, mexican food, and a really late night.

today, i taught my first classes and ate dumplings with teacher chris at the restaurant around the corner from where i live. not the same thing.

but he did lift my spirits. i try to maintain the attitude that we are all citizens of the world. we are all God's craftsmanship, His handiwork. His love for me knows no bounds, and His love for others knows no bounds. as one of many partakers in His image, i should want to know His glory in others ways. pray without ceasing, as He said. i believe that such prayer is in the form of doing. in the form of rejoicing in His glory through the many avenues of His creativity. and that includes other people. shouldn't i try to explore that? we have global, universal responsibilities to each other. this is why i'm here, i keep telling myself. if i honestly have such a philosophy, i have to make an effort to understand other people.

i find it funny, however, that every time i've been abroad, it has only reinforced my patriotism. not because i think my country is better. it's just different. but because america offers me a sense of belonging that i can't find anywhere else. it is one of the few things i feel i can understand, a place where i can simply be. i never spend a day in america feeling that i don't belong. certainly, i yearn for and enjoy being in other places, but in america, i simply am. it's like a pair of pajamas. i love other countries as i love my madden shoes or that fabulous dress i bought at h&m. but when i put on my pajamas, they are never, ever uncomfortable. i never feel that they simply aren't working for me. they allow me to be. and while i want to explore as many aspects of God's grand story as possible, want to promote the cooperation of culture, i will always, undoubtedly, be american.