7/30/09

It's been really hot the last few days, even a bit muggier than usual--and it hasn't bothered me a bit. I actually really like it. I feel like I could be out in it all day.

Part of me secretly hopes that I'm like that because it means that my future will somehow involve living in a place that's hot and muggy. It kind of makes sense that if my calling and passion lies in many places in the world much hotter than this, I would easily adjust to it, maybe even feel more a home in it.

The truth is I've never really liked the rain. I have nostalgia about it because I grew up in Oregon, and I can appreciate a big storm every so often, and a little mist is great for a run--but if I had to choose between rain forever or 100 degrees and humid forever, I'd chose the latter.

...

My dog likes cuddling in humidity more than any other time. She must love me an awful lot.

7/27/09

Tonight I sat out on my deck, reading in the 90 degree heat at 9pm, and there were so many mosquitos that I had to put out the bug zapper. So the fact that I was reading a book about the siege of Sarajevo didn't help, but as I listened to the zapping of dead bugs, I somehow drew a comparion to war and genocide. The people in the book were being singled out and killed by artillery shells and snipers while bugs crashed to their death and disappeared with a flash and a pop. I think that it's really awful that that's how some people view other people, like mosquitos. Maybe that's what you have to do to bring yourself to kill someone.

A mosquito landed near my leg, hovered over it, but decided to head towards the zapper instead. And part of me wished I could say "No, it's ok, bite my leg, I'll put up with the itching, just don't go over there." But I couldn't, and before long I heard a zap.

7/19/09

Is it weird to feel more at home with people who aren't your family? At school I live in a huge house with 60 people, only a few of whom I have close relationships with. But after living with them for 1-2 years I sort of feel closer to them than the 3 people I've shared a smaller house with for 18 years.

I just don't know if it's right for me to feel that way. Sometimes it feels like the time I spend with friends from the house is so much more meaningful and precious to me.

But in reality I know my real family so much better than a lot of people from the house. So why do I feel so isolated here sometimes? Is it simply the distance between my parents' house and the rest of the world?

All I know is I would rather have done absolutely nothing all day with my house friends than spend quality time with my family. And part of me feels really bad about that.

7/15/09

Today I decided to try and get a discount on a sweater I wanted at Urban Outfitters. It had a little pull in the back and I would only buy it if she took some money off. Originally she said she would take $5 off, and I was happy with that. But when she gave me the total is was acutally $13.04 off. I gratefully accepted the change without a word and bought the sweater.

My question is why did she take so much off? Was it a mistake or was she being nice? I like to think that she just knew how happy I would be to get the sweater for less than $7 so she was being nice. I remember how it gives you a good feeling to do nice things for customers from my jobs, so maybe that's what she was doing. A bit of faith in humanity restored.

7/14/09

I sat by a black man on the MAX train today. For some reason I felt like I was having this Rosa Parks experience, except I'm not black and there was really no issue with us sitting by each other. I slowly realized that this was nothing like Rosa Poarks at all, since we sat and chatted as if it was commonplace. I wanted to take it all as a positive thing, to look at how far we've come as a society, but I realized two things:

1. Public transportation has been integrated for sometime now, this really isn't that exciting

2. I noticed

I mean if it really doesn't matter that I'm sitting as an equal with a black man on the MAX, why did it stand out to me? What prejudices still lurk in my head that cause me to notice that? I think that only when racial mixing is so normal that no one notices will racism really be dead. Even though what I was observing was positive, it still revealed something about me that I don't like. Especially as a girl who grew up with an adopted Asian brother. I always maintain that I don't even notice, but how true is that? Maybe some dark part of me really does.