...

Sometimes I don't know what is wrong with me. I read a story about someone finding their home, their family, and I feel lost. I am so happy in general, with Travis, but yet I am completely restless ... with myself and life. I think about all the things I long to change about myself, in myself - be it something as stupid and selfish as my limp tangled locks, my incompetence with language, this very feeling.

It all seems inconsequential too when I think about what others are going through right this very minute. Jan's dad is in the hospital in Florida at this moment, probably dying. She's praying for her father's life while I'm wishing I were eating dumplings from a street stand in Beijing. Gah, what the hell is wrong with me.